Alara Unbroken - Doug Beyer [50]
It was a prayer of healing, but unsettlingly dressed in the language of apocalypse. It made Ajani think of his vision during his planeswalk, of the five worlds, their edges blurring in the seething aether, their colors bleeding together. Was their truth in what he saw? Were the five worlds, including Elspeth’s and his own, becoming, somehow, one? He tried to brush the thought away. Worry about your wounds, he thought. Keep it simple. Focus on what you can actually change.
But the chant was so rhythmic, and its imagery so evocative, that Ajani’s mind strayed. He found himself visualizing the end times described in the prayer, a time of strife and cultural and geological upheaval. He imagined clashes of armies too vast to number, and great swaths of civilization swept under a deluge of destruction. He saw mages both familiar and strange, offering up feeble spells to the tide of war, draining their souls to conjure magics powerful enough to stop the monstrosity of war. He saw young soldiers take up arms and rally behind banners of hope. He saw creatures of every ilk massing at continental frontiers, bracing for the charge of a blast of evil. But in the end, it all came to nothing. Legions perished. Mighty leaders fell. Spells fell impotent against the surge of power that rushed outward from … from something.
“… the hand of Asha is gentle,” finished the monk, and the clerics repeated the final line of the chant after him.
The abrupt silence of the end of the chant jarred Ajani out of his reverie. He sat up, stretching muscles that hadn’t been flexed in many days.
“That’s all for today,” said the monk to the other clerics. They took turns bowing and smiling at Ajani, and filed out.
“Thank you,” said Ajani to them.
“Thank you, my friend,” said a feminine voice.
The rhox monk bowed to Elspeth at the door, and left.
Ajani looked up at her, still on the floor in the middle of the inscribed healing circle. “On my world, healing magic is faster. But it usually hurts more.”
“ ‘The hand of Asha is gentle,’ ” said Elspeth with a smile.
“My spine wasn’t fractured, is the latest news—I had cracked ribs, and blood loss, and damage in all kinds of bad places. They told me the whole list, but I lost track as they were speaking. But you should have seen me earlier—I was walking around. I’ll be dancing in no time.”
“That I would pay to see.”
“Elspeth, I—”
“It’s fine.”
“No. I don’t mean to seem ungrateful. I’m very grateful, and I’m sorry that I didn’t … That I don’t …”
“It’s all right. It’s my fault for pushing the issue. You have your reasons—it’s selfish for me to try to keep you here. You’re of course free to go.”
“If I had time, I would stay. There’s so much I could learn here. I just have to get back to my life, back home. Things are difficult right now. I just don’t have time to …”
“Waste. Here.”
“Right, no time to waste. You understand. I have to get back. I mean, even a Knight-Captain like you must feel attachments, things that call you to return home again?”
Her answer was quiet. “No.”
“Never?”
“Bant is my home now.”
“Well, I wish it all the best.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” “Nothing. I don’t know.”
“No, what is it? You meant something.”
Ajani stretched his muscles. The bandages pulled tight against the motion, but it felt good and strong to push himself again. “I meant … I assume you know …”
Elspeth’s face was blank.
“Maybe not,” said Ajani. “Have you seen what’s around here? Have you seen the … other parts of this world?”
Her eyes narrowed. “What do you mean, other parts? I know there are other worlds.”
“No. I mean, there are other worlds connected with this one, each one different. I felt it on my way here: yours, mine, and—”
Elspeth’s face was grave. “What do you mean, ‘connected’?”
“I … don’t know what I mean. They seemed to move together, or belong together. When was the last time you traveled beyond