P. Power - Knight of the Realm

So healing could be done just by reminding a body to be healthy and making that idea strong enough? It should be possible to make an item for that. One that would work for anyone too. Complicated but doable.

Tor slapped his shield on, using it as a buffer against the dirt and lay down again. He was exhausted. Combat rage, no matter how good a reason you had for it, or even that you didn't get into a fist fight with the object of your anger, did that to you. Tor dreaded the headache he was going to have in the morning, but he'd live.

He just wouldn't want to.

Everyone had known? What the hell? There had been signs now that he knew about it himself. Ursala and Sara had both refused to tell him why Trice had done it, but they knew that she didn't mean the awful things she'd said. He'd always thought they were just standing by their friend, but now… Had all his friends been in on it the whole time?

No. Kolb didn't know… did he? Tor didn't know that, honestly. The man was an enigma. A deadly fighter, Knight and even head of the King’s secret army, but Tor had set him up in that last bit, hadn't he? So the man might or might not know.

Major Godfrey… Well, there was no reason for him to know and Sorlee wouldn't have been told anything either. She'd have probably let it slip to him, right? Even though there were no debts between friends, she still acted like she owed him for helping to save her parents farm. That had only taken gold though.

Tor dozed and, as he figured he would, woke up with an almost crippling headache, it was bad enough that he dry heaved for a while before he started walking north, towards his house. The near vomiting did nothing to make him feel better. Actually it made his head throb and feel like something inside was about to burst. He didn't know how far he'd gotten towards it the night before, the wasteland looked pretty much the same through about a hundred and fifty miles past the Capital, then the only change would be that it had a little more rock on the reddish surface. There was no water in this part, unless the falcons was up and running. If that was the case he could get some there, which shouldn't be more than fifty miles or so ahead, right? After another ten minutes of walking he had to start laughing.

He was a builder.

Duh.

The reaction headache must be making him stupid he decided. That, Tor knew wasn't even just him being hard on himself, it really did kind of knock the intelligence down for a while, messing with how the brain worked until you recovered. Thinking was hard and slow for him in the moment, which probably meant it would be a good idea to avoid life changing decisions for the time being too. No one was at their best after something like that.

Tor looked down and found two small rocks, both nicely smooth and red colored. One was shot with a deep black and a little bigger than the other. Sitting down he made a Not-flyer, a military grade one, into the stones. The bigger piece went into his inner pants pocket and the other he just held in his right hand, palm down. Reaching over he just tapped the back of his own hand, using focus to send a jolt of intent to the stone clutched inside. He rose four inches off the ground and after a few seconds started moving forward at about eighty miles per hour. The Falcons river, the floating one that he'd built the year before to help reduce the effects of a drought in County Ford, wasn't turned on at the moment it seemed, which made sense; if there was no need for it, why bother? That didn't matter, because, with only a little searching he found the front gate of Wilderness Station easily enough. His home.

Yay.

It was almost a perfectly straight line from the palace to his door after all.

Right. First he'd bathe and get something to eat, then see if the cook had some of that reaction remedy on hand. Tor knew the guy used it himself for hangovers at least a few times a week, so it was likely. On second thought, he decided, brain suddenly throbbing to an even greater level, maybe he'd do that first? Head feeling like it had been stuffed with wool, painful and nausea filled, Tor nodded and nearly threw up. Definitely that first.

It gleamed in the sun, the compound before him, a reddish black jewel, walls nearly thirty feet high, with four towers, one at leach corner of the wall, and a large palace like structure towards the rear. There was a division between the front and the back, a wall with a simple, if huge, door cut in it. Not that he could see it from the ground of course. Kolb and his people had build on when they moved in. Tor still lived in the little hut he'd built first. It was actually, to the best of his knowledge, the first thing like it ever built with focus stone. Concentrated dirt.

Seeing it he felt a sense of relief. At least he still had a home, even if most of his friends had turned out to hate him or at least didn't care enough to try and spare his feelings at all. Not even Varley hadn't told him and they were engaged to be married. Or they were at least. Tor shook himself slightly and then instantly regretted it.

Don't make any life altering choices with the reaction still on him, he reminded himself again. It would be too easy to pick the wrong course just then. Someone saying hello the wrong way could set him off as things stood. If this were anywhere else, he'd be given easy and gentle treatment for a while, a day or so, until he got back to normal. Instead he'd have to take care of himself, all his friends gone now.

It was so incredibly lonely to think about.

Tor dropped to the ground just in front of the open gate, his head feeling stuffed with cotton in the few spaces it just didn't ache, which was a change up from wool. A finer feeling. More white instead of an oily gray sense to things. At the palace they had a pretty decent remedy for it, some kind of bitter brown sludge that tasted horrible, but made the worst of the pain go away at least. The thought was silly, he realized, since it was the same one he could get from the cook here. Thinking really just wasn't his thing at the moment. He made himself smile and slowly walk forward.

The sun was brighter than normal today too, hotter. Part of that was the light sensitivity from the combat rage, and part because he was out with no temperature equalizer on. Tor could grab one in his hut though, there was a box of them sitting on the shelf behind the table. As he walked in, two men, both low ranked military, in their black uniforms, barred his way. They literally moved to stand in front of him and not let him walk to his hut.

Guards? He'd known that there was normally a man watching the gate, but this seemed a bit more official for some reason. Probably the new war thing with the Wards and the attack on Queen's day in the Capital a week before.

“Where do you think you’re going?” One of them said with a lot more menace than someone should have at Tor's front gate, war on or not. Tor didn't recognize either man, so he tried to let it go. After all, they were just doing their job, right? Trying to make sure no one came to visit without permission or something? Though really, if anyone bothered to show up way out here, shouldn't' they let them in? Maybe find them a snack and a guide?

“I'm Tor. I live here? In fact, it's my house, so step aside please.” It took effort but he managed to even keep his voice civil, pain slicing through his head or not.

The other guard chuckled.

“Right… a little piece of shit commoner like you is the Wizard Tor? Go away before we beat you for lying.”

This got a laugh from the other man too. Of course. Well, if they didn't recognize him, what could he do?

“I'm Tor, Torrence Baker… Really… Can you get someone that knows me at least, instead of trying to bar me from my own home? That's the protocol, isn't it? Get someone to vet the person at the gate?” He crossed his arms, but refused to tap his foot at them yet. He wasn't a farm wife. Normally it would have been just a mild inconvenience even if these men were being obnoxious about the whole thing. His head and mood just weren't up for it today for some reason. Tor would have to talk to Godfrey about this. It was one thing to bar the way, but they shouldn't be rude to guests or visitors, right? Or to him. That part was a little annoying too at the moment. More than a little.