Mistaken for a Returnee

Derrik stared at the floor, his head held tightly between his hands. He didn't now how to process this- any of this.

"Yer sayin I was dead? Dead? A corpse?"

"Yes, Derrik. For the fifth time, yes." Oladi sighed.

"Oh, am I annoying you, Druid? Well, pardon me." He mocked.

"Hey-"

"Yes, you are being a bit annoying," Oladi replied, annoyance and anger in her beautiful eyes.

"So sorry, shall I go off and die again?" He said, gathering up his blood-stained shirt and hurriedly throwing it on. "Would that make it better for you? Maybe the next time I'm dragged down from the Mountain, I won't be so bloody irritating!" He pointed at her, his voice cracking from duress.

"Enough!" Sulika shouted and placed herself between them. "What in the hells is wrong with the two of you?"

"Well," Aldritch muttered from where he was laying."Derrik is suffering from post revival syndrome. It happens to everyone, and it's nothing to be ashamed of." He explained while half-heartedly allowing Faeyra to manipulate his left arm.

The alchemist was sitting next to his shirtless torso, blatantly ogling him while looking over his bleeding wounds. She'd tried everything: antitoxins, healing potions, suturing. At this point, she was about ten seconds away from trying the 'kiss and make it better' tactic.

"Are you going to be okay?" Sulika took a few steps closer to Aldritch while keeping her eyes on the still bickering hunters.

"I'll be fine. You should talk with the two of them- ideally, not at the same time."

Sulika didn't really believe him. But seeing as he'd just done the impossible, again, she was at least willing to accept that he believed what he was saying was true…

"Any idea what's going on with the two of them?"

"As I said: Derrik is suffering from P.R.S. It's a trauma induced response. He'll likely need a few days off after we return home and someone to talk to."

"Is being revived that bad? Didn't you just heal his wounds and restart his heart or something- I don't really understand."

Aldritch gave her a strange look, "No, I didn't." With Faeyra's help, he pushed himself into a seated position and motioned for Sulika to sit down in front of him.

Which she did- but not before calling everyone else over.

"First: forgive me if I take a while to explain. Speaking is… difficult, right now." He looked around to gauge everyone's understanding before he started speaking.

"Chronastic Retrieval doesn't heal the recipient of the spell. So, despite what you all are thinking; I didn't heal any of Derrik's wounds. How many of you understand mana flow?"

After a few seconds of quiet mutterings, everyone but Derrik and Zarud claimed to understand.

"That's good. Makes this next part easier to explain. The flow of mana within your body acts as a… Recording device. It chronicles your body's condition and periodically stores this information upon itself. Different healing spells must access this information to varying degrees. The deeper the spell is able to read, the greater the healing effect. This is why spells like Heal, Greater Heal, and Recover can heal existing wounds and conditions, but won't get rid of scars or old injuries. Does it make sense so far?"

"Sorry, just to clarify. You're saying those spells don't heal old injuries because they aren't strong enough or because they can't access enough information?" Faeyra asked, sidling next to Sulika to listen to the rest of his explanation.

"The latter. None of those spells are capable of accessing anything but surface level information. In the case of a fresh cut, the spell will take its own scan of the body and compare it to the most recently logged scan from the mana well. Then it'll cross reference the two until it finds the alteration- in this case, a fresh cut, and it'll seek to return the alteration to its 'correct' state."

"So… It's not the spells that heal the body, it's the body's mana well being prodded to restore the body to a previous state?"

"Yes, exactly." Aldritch smiled at her.

"I would not have understood that." Sulika whispered into Faeyra's ear, much to her amusement.

"Chronastic Retrieval takes that same concept and goes a step further. Instead of provoking the mana well to correct the body on its own, the spell copies the mana well in its entirety and uses it to reconstruct the body at its last saved state."

"... You're saying that silver goop that was wrapped around Derrik's body, destroyed it, then recreated it from scratch?"

"No, it didn't destroy his body. It simply… overwrote the information. I'm probably over-simplifying this: basically, the spell tricks the mana well into ignoring anything that's happened to the body. In Derrick's case, that equates to roughly two hours worth of stored information being overwritten."

"What does that mean for him?"

"Aye, what does that mean for me?"

"How should I put this," Aldritch scratched the back of his head and tried to focus his thoughts. It was difficult to think with all that blood flowing out of him.

"Just tell them he's two hours younger."

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"Derrik is roughly two hours younger than he was before I cast the spell."

"You- Yer saying I traveled through time?" Derrik said, looking down at his body as if he didn't recognize himself.

"That's one way to put it, yes."

"I've traveled through time!" Derrik cheered; he wrapped his thick arms around Ralocan and squeezed the elf until he thought his head might pop. "Oh, wait until ma Wife hears about this."

"Don't tell her." Aldritch shook his head and pushed himself to his feet.

"What?"

"Don't tell her. Believe me, it's in everyone's best interest if you forgot this spell existed."

"But, Aldritch," Sulika stepped in front of him and placed her palm on his chest to prevent him from moving. "You have a spell capable of reviving the dead… That's the stuff of legends, don't you understand? Think of the lives you could save if you taught it to other clerics.

And, I know you don't want to help people for free, so think of the money you could earn. The respect you'd be given… You could become the most sought after healer in the world."

Aldritch gently grabbed Sulika's hand and pulled it away from him- She was surprised to see disappointment in his eyes as he looked at her.

"I love gold, but not if it's covered in the blood of others. And respect? If you've bought it with money or products, it's not respect: it's deference. The two might be interchangeable for you, but there's a mountain of difference from where I'm standing." He pushed past her and headed for the edge of the roof.

"Hey- wait a minute. Why are you upset with me? What did I do?" She asked, running to catch up with him.

She grabbed his arm and- "Ahh!" Screamed as he grabbed both of her arms in his left hand and easily lifted her off the ground.

He brought her face close to his, "I'm not upset with you: your words and repeated touching of my person can be a tad annoying, yes. But I am not upset with you. How could I be?

You're young, inexperienced, and ignorant. But these are not faults of your own. They are merely a symptom of youth. And being upset over a young person's ignorance is no different than getting upset over Synne urinating on the floor- because neither of you know any better.

However, my understanding of your reasons does not negate my desire to end this conversation for the moment. And, unless you've forgotten, we have a mission to complete." He sat her down and pointed at the old temple ruins, which were only a thousand or so feet from the building they were standing on.

"That's where the dungeon is. I'll wait for you there instead of the old guild building. Don't be late." He stepped off the edge of the building and fell to the concrete below-

Boom!

Everyone could feel the impact of his landing in their feet. They stopped their private conversations and turned to find Sulika standing at the edge of the roof.

She watched him walk in the direction of the temple, and was uncertain of what to feel: Ashamed? Angry? Or maybe nothing at all? He'd said nothing she hadn't heard a thousand times before… But, for some reason, his words stung a little sharper than everyone else's.

He was disappointed in her and she hated that.

"Everything okay?" Faeyra asked, moving to stand beside Sulika.

"He's upset with me."

She put her arm around Sulika's shoulders. "What did he say? It seemed a little tense over here."

Sulika laughed and repeated what Aldritch had said to her.

"... Are you sure he's upset with you?"

"Oh, definitely. He might've denied it, but he's upset about what I said."

"Sulika, I love you, I do. But I think you might be wrong on this one. Think about it: would the Aldritch you know suppress his feelings or would he tell you exactly what was on his mind?"

"Well… when you put it like that. I'm not even sure Aldritch knows how to hide his feelings. The man has no filter between his mouth and his brain."

"Exactly," Faeyra laughed. "What he said was harsh, and trust me; I'm going to grill him about it later. But I don't think he would've said it without reason. Who knows, maybe there's more to that spell than we know?"

Aldritch's vision was swimming, and his stomach felt like it was slowly spinning inside him.

The Imp's toxin was rapidly burning away, but that only made the sensation worse.

The body was meant to dissolve the toxin slowly, turning it into a harmless protein over a number of hours- maybe even days. Which was why it was so favored by the assassins back home. This tasteless, transparent, odorless liquid's only effect on the body was the increased blood flow.

Unless they were wounded in battle, most would likely never realize the toxin was there. And at that point, it was usually too late to do anything about it.

But his constitution made such a slow removal impossible.

His cells were quickly wiping any trace of the toxin from his system. Soon it would be nothing more than a memory.

He suddenly felt his injured leg start to tighten-

crack!

His fractured ankle bone snapped together with brutal efficiency, nearly causing the giant to stumble into the wall. He caught himself before he could fall and continued to move forward, regardless of whatever pain he was feeling.

He needed to make sure the portal was secure before the others arrived.

"You should've told them the truth. They think you're being unreasonable because you didn't tell them what would happen if someone else cast the spell: If you weren't- well- YOU, casting that spell would be suicide."

"Their opinions of my reasons are their own. I may tell Sulika and Faeyra when we're alone, just so they understand. But the others don't need to know the price I paid."

"I think your kinsman deserves to know what you've done for him."

"I disagree. I don't know him well enough yet. Maybe once I've gotten to know him better, I'll-"

"Aldritch; you took every wound and scar on that dwarf's body into yourself, and then the spell multiplied that pain for every minute he was dead. If he would betray you after that, then he, his family, his friends, even his acquaintances would all be put to death for associating with such a monster."

"Drakk'vorn kharûl tor vak tharn nar'zek tol garaz nor vek. (The weight of the stone shall not fall to the pebble to carry.)"

"Yeah yeah. But here's my question; why are you always the one stuck carrying the weight of all the other stones?"

Aldritch winced as the bones in his forearm and hand finished reforming and simultaneously snapped back into their proper positions.

Aldritch looked down at his hand and flexed his fingers... No pain.

He smiled, "Torv'zen nar Aldritch'en Khalan Khal-Dran. Vak Kharn dorûl nar rok, nar vak drakk'vorn thûl dor'nath vek. (Because I am Aldritch of Clan Blackshield. And the mountain does not bend, no matter how many stones shall fall upon it).

"... Aldritch, I never thought I'd say this, but- in some ways- I think you might be even more prideful than me."

"Thank you."

"That wasn't a compliment."

"I didn't think it was." He laughed.