Illuminaria [LitRPG Fantasy Healer Adventure]

46 - Touching the Divine

As they were wrapping up the clinic the night before, Mercy Suku remarked she would drop by the Abaaka House around noon the next day. Joe knew he had to present his findings to Myllo as well that day, but he should have time to finish up his studies after Suku's visit. Besides, Joe was almost one hundred percent certain that if he dropped the saint's name, the guild-leader would completely understand a bit of tardiness.

He let Halten and Runkbadok know about the upcoming visit, only to have that bit of news spark a hurricane of activity in the multi-family home. The Mercy coming was a huge deal; everything had to be perfect. Joe, Hah'roo, Mojo, and Mahq were assigned to clean high points in the complex, while Mister and Missus Catstaff, Halten, and Senrella, the musician who lived under Hah'roo, tackled the first floor. Runk offered to help, but there really wasn't much the infirm man could do.

The upstairs crew started with windows. Joe stood on the ground and dual cast a set of amber paws to get his windows shining. A pair of shug-monkeys, one a changeling, the other a druid, worked together on the back side of the home, though there was far more splashing each other than there was window washing. Hah'roo was able to run up the sides of the building and balance on the tiniest ledges to get her allotted panes cleaned.

After that, they worked to trim the vines. For this task, they had a completely different dynamic. Gone was the kid who had been water-brawling with his new friend a few minutes before. Staying in human form, the now-serious youth directed every cut, tie, and tuck as if he were a seasoned foreman. The other three could see the druid knew exactly what needed to be done and were all too happy to follow his instructions.

By the time they finished their tasks, the courtyard had been transformed. All the comfortable clutter had been removed and replaced by two long tables. One had benches for seating. The other began to fill with food. Joe got his fingers whacked a couple of times, trying to peek at the source of some fantastic scents wafting off the gathering dishes. There was one tureen that smelled so good, Joe thought he was going to lose control of the wildness due to the insanely savory aroma leaking out from under the lid.

Far more people than just the residents had joined the gathering. Joe shook so many hands in greeting that he finally got over his embarrassment with his feral-looking paws. Also, once word spread that people welcomed his healing, he began to automatically add [Healer's Touch] to his greetings, transforming it into a 'Healer's Handshake'.

At some signal that Joe must have missed, the gathering transformed from preparation into celebration. People wandered around the courtyard. Joe beelined for the savory tureen, which held a thick, decadent soup. Joe was in bliss with his bowl, yet found out a minute later that the rich broth was not the best dish on the table. A huge tray was filled with something that was a cross between pizza and lasagna. It was like a layered pizza with a cheesy filling between each succulent level. Joe had seconds of the pizzagna, not really what it was called, but the goofy name Joe identified didn't do the dish justice. Pizzagna was a better name. He had to stop himself from going for thirds.

Even though he was kept fairly busy, Joe could tell the moment the healer arrived. A wave of warmth, comfort, and affection filled the air. It was like his [Halefire], but those within the expansive aura did not just feel soothed, they actively felt loved and cherished. The conversations dropped to a gentle murmur, and all eyes turned to the entrance of the atrium. The priestess of Murrcee gently stepped her way over to where Joe was placing his plate in the dirty dish bin.

"Thank you for coming, Saint Suku," he greeted in a voice steeped with even more reverence than he had the day before. Yesterday, she was a generous and lovely old woman. Today, he knew, she completely embodied that title.

"Oh, not you too," she huffed kindly. "I get enough veneration from those in need. It is nice to have a peer address me just by name."

"I don't think I can be called a peer," Joe replied sheepishly, "but okay. Thank you, Suku."

"Posh. You gave the people of Rockpoint a whole afternoon and demanded nothing for it. You are more a peer to me than most of our fellow physikers in Fort Coral," she countered.

Joe was saved from coming up with a reply by the arrival of Halten and Runkbadok.

"Greetings, ma'am. I am honored you would have the time for an old nu with a bad back," Runk intoned.

"Oh, I remember you. You read the benediction when they rebuilt the Cliffside shrine after the hurricane in … oh my, when was that?"

"That was the summer of fifty-eight," the nu supplied. With his rich voice, Joe could easily hear why he had been chosen for the honor of a speaking role.

"Oh my. That was quite a while ago. You are still just as handsome."

"Why, thank you for saying so, but you're a terrible fibber, Mercy," Runk chuckled back at her. "I will admit I had an awful big crush on you back in those days."

"I remember. I recall you finding dozens of little jobs to do long afterwards," she chided merrily, laying a hand on his wrist. "The mural you painted is still there."

"Really?" the striped man asked in disbelief. "I only had cheap paints. Someone must have enchanted it."

"Not exactly. It has been touched up enough that it is unlikely any of the original paint still shows, but your design remains to this day."

"Well, I'll be. I'll have to come see it once I can get around better."

"I would very much like that. So let's see what we can do to get you up and about." The Mercy stood and looked around at the small crowd. In a voice loud enough to fill the courtyard yet still soft in its timbre, she spoke to everyone in attendance.

"I welcome you all to join me in this prayer. If you have any ties to the gods that would present difficulties, no offense will be taken if you do not participate. Please note that I do have Mairrhee's blessings, but if you worry about offending the Reveller, then please feel free to stand back, but you need not leave unless you wish to."

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

She walked a circle around Runkbadok, gently pushing folks back a few steps to create an open area around the patient. She left Joe in the ring with her and Runk.

When she turned back to them, Joe quickly spoke up. "You know I have no idea how this works, right? Are you sure you want me here?" he stated, pointing a waggling finger at his feet.

"You are right where you are supposed to be, Joe. You don't need to do anything. Now shush," she hissed affectionately.

Taking out sand and chalk, the Mercy encircled the three of them with a ring made up of looping green chalk lines. She filled in the negative spaces with the tan sand. Joe knew that tan was Murrcee's color. The chalk made the ring look a lot like Runk's skin, which was also striped in green and brown today.

Green was a good healing color, so it might just be a coincidence.

As she worked, the mercy prayed. She began by speaking the many names of her god. Murrcee, the Gentle One, the Compassionate, the Bringer of Solace, and several more. She then began a prayer. To Joe's surprise, even though the town did not follow the goddess of mercy, most of those around the circle murmured the words with her.

May this day bring you comfort

Hurt abated and sorrow consoled

Deliver joy to the joyless

Succor to the mournful

And balm to the infirm

Let us be joined, healed, and kind

Bless us, Murrcee

As we bless each other

Three times the prayer was spoken. Yet Joe only heard the first words of the third iteration.

In a rush, the world dissolved around him. Joe found his mind floating in a warm sea of soft colors. He was a tiny speck in an endless pastel cosmos, yet he was in no way afraid or feeling small. While everything around him was massive and majestic, it welcomed him, making him know he was loved and valued by this infinite expanse.

It took his mind a few seconds to adjust and see that within the unfathomably massive scale, the colors vaguely shaped a colossal being. He knew exactly who it was. Love and gentleness radiated from the incomprehensible entity. Joe wanted to think of her as 'she', but she was so much more than just that one gender. Gender failed to have meaning, yet there was something so motherly about the goddess that 'she' was the best pronoun he could find.

When she greeted him, it was not with words; it was a feeling. A great, complex, overwhelming feeling of welcoming, affection, tenderness, joy, and even adoration. He sensed that Murrcee was simplifying her thoughts to these sensations for Joe's benefit. Her actual words would overload his brain and pop his sanity.

Until now, Joe had been picturing the gods of illuminaria as beings similar to the ones he knew from mythology or role-playing games, just some sort of big, powerful people. He was so wrong about the scale of them. Even Hawking, who seemed omnipresent, was still comprehensible. If Murrcee was typical of the gods, then these beings functioned on a completely different level of existence. It was no wonder that their blessings were sporadic. It was like the human and ant example. Mortals were so infinitesimal to the gods that they only noticed people on rare occasions.

The emotion shifted to a question ... or more like a request. Joe felt wanted, and in that devotion was an inquiry asking if he wanted her back. He realized she was asking him to pledge himself to her. There were layers to that desire. At the very least, would he be a follower of hers, but beyond that was the question of whether he would choose to make her his patron, to become one of her clerics.

Joe was immediately torn. Murrcee was wondrous on almost every conceivable level. She was all about caring for others and being good to one another. She had nurtured him when killing Groven had scarred his psyche and saved Hah'roo after Sougath had almost killed her. She was said to be the penultimate healer in the whole of Illuminaria. Of all the churches he had heard of, the only one he had been drawn to so far had been Murrcee.

On the other hand, he had just started to find his own way in this new world. He was not sure he was ready to start walking down someone else's path before he truly had a solid sense of who he really wanted to be. Also, he had a somewhat selfish thought of what he would be giving up. He instinctively knew his base class would change from healer to cleric. That would likely mean a few skill changes.

It also might mean the way he healed would change, too. Would his accelerated healing become divine healing? Was that a bad thing? Suku's divine healing seemed to be able to do things his skills couldn't. Then again, she had seven times his level. That probably had a lot to do with just how good she was.

As he had these thoughts, a sensation awoke on his right arm. The Mark of Death flared, making itself visible under the shaggy hair that concealed it ever since Vyhne's tower. The symbol of change grew warm, then rapidly started to cool. As it did so, the bright motes of light in the blackness began to wink out. One by one, they started to vanish even as the ebon-colored ink faded. The mark did not disappear, but it was clearly letting him know he would be choosing between it and her.

Again, Joe was not sure that was a bad thing. He did not want to be some figure of prophecy. This was one of the reasons he almost never talked about the mark. He had been able to keep it concealed behind his sleeves and the thick hair on his forearms. At times, Joe almost felt the mark seemed to hide in his shaggy fur, as if it enjoyed being a secret.

The mark did suggest that he could do good things with it if the conditions were right. Everything he had read of the marks made it clear that they did not denote any sort of 'chosen one' status. They merely suggested potential. Joe liked the idea that the mark may one day help him change this world for the better.

But isn't that what Murrcee was offering as well, the power to help Illuminaria?

Joe's mind floated in this out-of-body state, churning these ideas over and over in his head. The goddess truly appealed to him, yet it was the devoting himself part that he balked at. He was not sure he was ready to rework the person he was becoming and switch from the freedom of a healer to the potential commitment of a cleric.

A response washed over Joe. It was the comforting feeling of being held, driving away his worries. It was made of patience and caring. It told him he was not on the spot. The way he saw time was a fraction of how she did. If he was not ready to make the decision yet, he should not be distressed by either choice or by not making one. She would be here if one day he were ready.

Filling him with her love and regard, Murrcee's massive presence retreated back onto the colorful, cloudy panoply.

And then Joe was back in the courtyard. He was lying face up on the floor of the atrium. The circle was gone, and the gathering had grown loud and merry. He found himself holding Mercy's hand. She looked down on him with a warm smile.

"I just met your goddess," he stammered.

"I thought that was what she had planned," Suku's sibilant voice hissed jovially. "I told her you weren't yet ready, but I think she wanted to meet you anyway."

Joe heard the words, but their meaning mostly escaped him. His head didn't seem to be able to process information yet. He was stunned in a way that had nothing to do with a mental attack. He lay there staring up at the flowering vines and the sky beyond, until he felt the priestess tug on his arm.

"Let's get you a drink, son," she chuckled.

"Yeah," was all he managed to huff as other hands eased him up onto his feet and a cup of something cold and spicy slipped into his hand. Even then, someone had to nudge his arm toward his mouth. The cinnamon-like brew knocked away one layer of fog, though it took quite a while longer until Joe was fully able to rejoin the party.