История Королевы Эльфов / The story of the Elf Queen: Глава одиннадцатая. Начало лечения Героя Королевы Эльфов

Chapter Eleven. Beginning of the treatment of the Hero of the Elf Queen

Camrad_RIP 04.03.25 в 19:04

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Camrad_RIP 04.03.25 в 09:22

Fear your desires, for they may come true. Cyril was ready to sign this simple truth with both hands, to cast it in granite and carve it in bronze. It was a good thing that he even imagined now what kind of weaves could be used to do it. What had he said about reducing the intensity of training, resting, and relaxing a bit? Well, he had relaxed, almost to the point of stopping all vital activity!
T.N.

Camrad_RIP 04.03.25 в 19:05

The next day, after coming to his senses and a tense conversation with his mentor, who had changed because of his fault, Queen and Elder Enchantress, Cyril woke up refreshed, full of energy and perfectly rested. At least, that's how it seemed to him. As he stretched, he tried to sit up in bed, but immediately received an icy needle in his heart. From the favourable feeling in a split second there was no trace. Cyril collapsed back on the featherbed, breathing heavily and gulping for air, his heart pounding like a madman. And every beat was accompanied by an unpleasant pain in his chest and a chill.

Camrad_RIP 05.03.25 в 13:08

It didn't last long, just a few moments, and then Cyril was wrapped tightly in healing weaves, and a wave of pleasant warmth spread over his body. At the same time, an alarm trill sounded in his room, and Gata and Armina, who, as it turned out, had been on duty next to Cyril since the evening, rushed to the medical bed.

Camrad_RIP 05.03.25 в 13:09

This sent another stream of caressing warmth into his heart, which was tormented by pain and cold, calming the rhythm and chasing away the unpleasant sensations. Cyril recognised in this warmth the healing magic of Geatral, and a few moments later the elven healer herself appeared next to his bed. Her eyes immediately flashed with green fire, and another wave of heat travelled through Cyril's body, now purposefully towards his wounded heart. After giving the patient a stern look with burning eyes, Geatral gave him a brief hello and immediately reprimanded him for trying to stand up so abruptly. At the same time, she checked the medical weaves that enveloped Cyril, barely tweaking anything in them. Then she pulled up the young man's shirt, and he saw the source of the quiet humming and vibrations.

Camrad_RIP 06.03.25 в 15:13

On the left side of his chest lay, stuck to his skin, an amulet in the form of a small silver metal disc, covered with filigree carvings and inlaid with glowing small gems. It was the one that additionally kept his heart beating, pouring healing energy directly into the mangled heart energy node. And even in his current state, with a mere superficial glance, Cyril managed to understand something about him. Judging by the subtlety and complexity of the complex magical weave embedded in it, this mago-cardiac pacemaker was at least master level. Or even magister level. And for some reason, when looking at it, the image of Scrooge McDuck, from his childhood favourite cartoon series, appeared in the young man's mind.

Camrad_RIP 06.03.25 в 15:24

However, as soon as this image appeared, it disappeared, and Cyril could not evaluate this magnificent amulet more precisely, because Geatral, who was examining him, sharply stopped the young man. The healer strictly told him not to tense his subtle body and relaxed Cyril's muscles with a point effect. No weaving, no running of reserve through energy channels, no tension of energy nodes. Nothing that could in any way damage Cyril's already traumatised subtle bodies. The only thing he was allowed to do in his current state was the simplest self-analysis. In essence - just observing his subtle bodies from the inside. And it's best not to get carried away with it. The elven healer even threatened to put special magic-suppressing bracelets on him if he disobeyed her.

Camrad_RIP 06.03.25 в 15:26

For some reason Cyril believed her at once, and even for a moment involuntarily imagined himself tied to the bed with black leather straps on his arms and legs. And gagged. The fantasy turned out to be surprisingly clear and frightening, so he immediately swore to Geatral that there was no need for medical BDSM, and he would strictly follow all the recommendations of the healer. The elven woman gave him a hard look, apparently convinced of his sincerity, and then handed him over to Gata and Armina, promising to visit him later.

Camrad_RIP 06.03.25 в 15:27

Both maids immediately rushed to Cyril, almost in tears. They helped him to make himself comfortable on the medical bed, gave him a drink of water, which was barely neutral magical energy, and then fed him with a spoon. The breakfast was some kind of mush, resembling mashed potatoes in consistency and flavour. Cyril tried to say he could eat it himself, but after the third spoonful he again felt unpleasant weakness and coldness in his chest. The amulet immediately emitted a quiet hum, the maids immediately noticed it from his face and movements, and unhesitatingly declared that they would feed him themselves. As a result, Cyril had to eat from a spoon, as if he were a baby.

Camrad_RIP 06.03.25 в 15:31

At least he managed to make it to the restroom. Yes, with rest breaks, yes, leaning on the wall and on Gata's shoulder. But he made it. Because if Gata or Armina had to wipe his ass, it would have been a complete failure. Although, come to think of it, what haven't they seen? Especially after-- Yeah... An image of him on his knees diligently polishing both maids' pussies in turn appeared in his mind... Haha, polishing pussy to pussy... What the fuck is going on in his head! Shaking his head and pushing away the negative thoughts, Cyril, having relieved his body and partly his soul, got to his feet and headed back towards his bed.

Camrad_RIP 09.03.25 в 05:40

The journey was not as epic as the trek of two mossy-footed halflings in the company of a Mordovian intelligent man to the Fatal Mountain. In terms of distance. But in terms of tension, Cyril would argue who had it harder. When he finally returned to his bed, his unhappy heart was beating hard again, and the expensive medical amulet was humming and vibrating again, infusing his heart with some healing energy. Having made himself comfortable in bed and rested a little, Cyril noticed his mentor was approaching his room. It would be more accurate to say that he was aware of her approach because now Cyril could feel Diantrel's location all the time. It's just that if you don't focus on it, you don't pay attention to it. It's like breathing. But if you concentrate...

Camrad_RIP 09.03.25 в 05:47

When he closed his eyes, Cyril easily felt the direction and distance to Diantrel, which was rapidly decreasing. It did not require any effort from him or any strain of subtle bodies for which he could have been punished by Geatral. The system-given modifier of the companion did not require any magic at all in the usual local sense. In a minute, his mentor really came into Cyril's room and, as it turned out, was not empty-handed.

Camrad_RIP 06.03.25 в 15:34

Once inside, Diantrel politely greeted her student and his maids and showed him what appeared to be a very comfortable armchair with armrests, anatomical backrest and footrest. It was made of light wood, covered with skilful carvings of foliage themes, upholstered in a soft fabric of a rich green colour. In short, it was an exemplary masterpiece of elven furniture craftsmanship. Or rather, furniture artefacting. As this chair had no legs, but floated in the air above the floor! A real fucking magical wheelchair! And, as it turned out, with the possibility of mental control! Just tune in to the control weave and the chair will go wherever you want it to go. It doesn't take any effort at all. Even in his condition, Cyril could afford only to tune in to the necessary weave.

Camrad_RIP 06.03.25 в 15:36

And that wasn't all! Besides levitation charms, this marvel of artifacting, for which a bald headmaster of a school for very differently gifted children would probably kill, carried other weaves. A whole complex of healing weaves, like the ones that surrounded Cyril's bed, a separate complex of protective weaves, and even a few attacking weaves. The latter weaves were quite serious, on par with his enhanced attacks with his battle wand. Although the chair's defense weaves was several times more powerful and complex. It was not a self-propelled dwarf chariot, as his mentor explained to Cyril, showing and explaining to him the functions of the chair floating in the air.

Camrad_RIP 09.03.25 в 05:48

At that moment, the young man listening to her could barely keep from laughing. Geez, that's just crazy! A disabled half elf in a magical wheelchair! If he was also a dark half-elf, and would prefer boys to girls, he would be the ideal for the progressive western part of the Dnd players! Cyril couldn't help but imagine himself in his new guise, only with slightly darker skin, riding that chair and carrying a staff, somewhere in the dungeon. And in the company of Gata limping on a crutch. And next to her is Armina with a blindfold. And a bearded Asian dwarf with a helmet and an axe and a miniskirt and heels. Man, that's an Oscar!

Camrad_RIP 09.03.25 в 05:50

Apparently, his bad thoughts were reflected too clearly on his face because his mentor, who was explaining the subtleties of protective weaves, looked at Cyril sternly. He was involuntarily embarrassed and continued to listen to her words with all possible seriousness. The briefing took almost half an hour, and only after that Diantrel allowed Cyril, with the help of Gata, to carefully get out of bed and sit down in the magic chair.

Camrad_RIP 06.03.25 в 15:38

As soon as he lowered himself onto it, it immediately adjusted to his anatomy. The back literally enveloped him and leaned back, the footrest adjusted to the most comfortable height, and the armrests slightly changed their angle. At the same time the chair enveloped Cyril with its weaves, first with a layer of healing and then with protective ones, forming a transparent, but quite tangible solid barrier. For several minutes, under the watchful eye of his mentor, he carefully learnt the controls, moving smoothly around his chamber, hovering above the floor. It turned out to be surprisingly easy and freakin' fun! Yeah, it was low, but he was fucking flying! He flew, Carl!

Camrad_RIP 06.03.25 в 15:39

God, it was so cool! And most importantly, the controlling weaves were foolproof, so it was impossible to accelerate too much or make a sudden maneuver. Neither could crashing into a wall or flipping over. In addition, a separate weave like a safety belt kept Cyril in the chair, ensuring that he wouldn't fall out. So he, unable to resist the analogy that appeared in his head, slowly soared a meter and a half above the floor, rising almost to the ceiling. Hanging there and looking down at his mentor and maids, Cyril raised his hands and with a wide smile on his face quoted:

Camrad_RIP 09.03.25 в 05:53

"My Arrakis! My Dune! Spice must flow!"

Camrad_RIP 06.03.25 в 15:45

Expectantly, neither the mentor nor the maids understood him. In fact, there was a look of apprehension on their faces, and they glanced at each other quickly. Diantrel, who kept her eyes on him, asked tactfully:

Camrad_RIP 06.03.25 в 15:45

"Is this some kind of spell from your home world?"

Camrad_RIP 05.03.25 в 20:17

"Ah? No, it just reminded me of a character in a, uh... shall we say, man-made legend. He flew in a hover chair too, not because he was injured, but because he was very fat."

Camrad_RIP 09.03.25 в 05:54

"That's it. I guess this character was very wealthy, so he could afford such a luxury,” the mentor said."

Camrad_RIP 09.03.25 в 05:55

Her voice was absolutely polite, but for some reason Cyril was again reminded of Scrooge McDuck. But for some reason he was desperately swearing like the other Duck, Donald. Pushing the thought away, he cautiously lowered himself down and nodded:

Camrad_RIP 09.03.25 в 05:56

"It is. In legend, he was the owner of an entire planet where a rare drug was mined...."

Camrad_RIP 06.03.25 в 15:46

It took him a few minutes to recount in general terms the plot of the classic of world fiction of his native world. Diantrel, Gata, and Armina listened to Cyril unexpectedly attentively and with noticeable interest. Especially when he explained to them about spice, which is a must flow. At the end, the mentor even asked him if what he had told them was true - just a fictional story. When he answered in the affirmative, Diantrel folded her arms on her enlarged chest and said thoughtfully:

Camrad_RIP 06.03.25 в 15:47

"Amazing..."

Camrad_RIP 09.03.25 в 08:39

"What exactly? The plot or the characters?"

Camrad_RIP 09.03.25 в 08:40

"How this storyteller guessed the properties of the Desert Salt..."

Camrad_RIP 09.03.25 в 08:45

In answer to Cyril's mute question, the mentor told him for several minutes about the Great Desert to the west of the Forest. The Great Desert, however, had not been much of a desert recently. By the standards of the elves, of course. And in particular, she told about one kind of crystal formed near natural sources of magic only in this desert. This process was long, sometimes taking dozens or even hundreds of years. And the longer such a crystal grew, absorbing the magic of its native source, the better. Grinding it into fine dust and thoroughly cleaning it, one could get the most powerful amplifier of clairvoyant abilities. It did not add longevity and health, even on the contrary, especially with regular and excessive consumption, and it was addictive very quickly. But the third eye amplified perfectly, allowing all sorts of seers, soothsayers and prophets to greatly enhance their abilities.

Camrad_RIP 09.03.25 в 05:57

However, almost no one could afford to consume it regularly, as the Great Desert was a place extremely inhospitable and very dangerous. There were few inhabitants there, and those who knew where to find and mine the necessary crystals - even less, although the demand for them was huge. Mostly because all the sources of magic powerful enough to form and grow crystals in the Great Desert had owners. They were not eager to let outsiders into their territory in any form. And some found a use for those crystals themselves. Because in the Great Desert there was enough besides the living and dead inhabitants. Though not as many as in the North of the Middle Sea.

Camrad_RIP 09.03.25 в 05:59

When Cyril asked her about the last ones, Diantrel unexpectedly told him they would continue their conversation in a more appropriate place. In fact, that was the reason she had come to see him today. Since he could not train in his condition, it was decided to temporarily switch to theoretical studies. In particular, to expand Cyril's ideas about the world he had gotten into, which the young man was only glad of. And not only because of the desire to learn more about his new home, but also because just lying in bed without such a thing as a smartphone with Internet access was a specific pleasure.

Camrad_RIP 09.03.25 в 06:00

The maids helped him carefully change from his nightgown into a simple hospital gown, temporarily removing him from the hover chair. Then he moved with them and his mentor to a study room set up especially for him in one of the vacant neighboring rooms. All unnecessary furniture had been removed, and the walls were covered with huge maps of different lands. It reminded me immediately of the geography room in his school. But there were no globes here, which at first surprised Cyril, when he took a seat in his chair in front of the teacher's desk. But the answer was surprisingly simple.

Camrad_RIP 09.03.25 в 06:02

There was no globe because the whole world had not yet been explored, even by the elves who had lived here for millennia. In addition, the life of cartographers in this world was complicated by magical anomalies of spatial type. As Diantrel explained, the Great Desert is full of them, so its total area, according to elves' estimates, can be one and a half times larger than it should be. But Cyril learned this later. The first question he asked his mentor, when Diantrel was about to start their lesson, was what is the name of this world? The idea came to him all of a sudden, though it seemed that he had already spent so much time here, but he had never bothered to find out.

Camrad_RIP 09.03.25 в 06:03

His mentor was not surprised by the question, and she answered it eagerly. As it turned out, this world did not have a common name among all its inhabitants. But among the elves this world was called Beriadon. As Diantrel explained, this name came from the combination of two words of the Old Elven language, meaning “Protected World”.

Camrad_RIP 09.03.25 в 06:04

When Cyril asked her why the name was so, she replied that this world, by its very nature, was relatively isolated from other worlds. That, in its own way, is a natural protection. When Cyril asked what this protection was against, Diantrel, as it seemed to him, hesitated for a moment. However, most likely, it seemed to him, because the mentor immediately explained to Cyril that there are worlds where there are regular invasions from other worlds or planes. For example, from Inferno, although it is not the only source of such a threat, although it is probably the most widespread. Or there is a permanent threat of such invasions.

Camrad_RIP 09.03.25 в 06:06

Diantrel didn't go further into the matter, saying there would be a separate lesson. Now it was time to go directly to geography. And the elf began the lesson, logically, with a lecture about her homeland. That is, about the territory of the Forest and the surrounding lands, clearly showing Cyril them on the map. And not on an ordinary map, but on an enchanted one. She spread it out on the table in front of Cyril, and with a snap of her fingers she projected over it three-dimensional images of the Forest, mountains and seas. It looked very cool and futuristic! Cyril listened with interest to his mentor's story about the country of elves and its neighbors, which were plentiful.

Camrad_RIP 09.03.25 в 06:09

And not all of them were pleasant. The elves had relatively even relations with the Confederation of Free Cities, which lay to the north and covered almost the entire coast of the Middle Sea. Orcs, on the other hand, were a permanent headache. And not only them. In the Great Steppe, which lay to the east, there were enough human tribes of steppesmen and even beastmen, who managed to get along with their green-skinned neighbors with varying success, sometimes forming tribal alliances and even whole hordes. With the Undermountain, the elves' natural frontier to the west and southwest, relations were generally neutral and, as Diantrel characterized them, mostly businesslike. The Forest received metals and crystals from the dwarves and paid in wood and foodstuffs. But mostly wood, because the dwarves had their breadbasket on the surface, called Meadowlands, populated mostly by halfling clans.....

Camrad_RIP 09.03.25 в 06:12

The first lesson lasted until the evening, with one break, during which Geatral visited them. The elven healer examined Cyril carefully again, made some adjustments to the healing weaves of his chair and heart amulet, and then gave him a drink of some pleasant-tasting decoction. It was a little sour, but from a single sip a wave of invigorating warmth and strength immediately flowed through his body. Literally. Cyril felt how with each sip he was filled with healing energy, which was actively absorbed into the most damaged parts of the subtle bodies. Especially in the heart area. Cyril was even able to get off the chair and walk to the nearest restroom on his own, even though Gata and Armina helped him

Camrad_RIP 09.03.25 в 06:14

True, upon returning to the study room he felt physically tired again, and his heart began to pound, but still, he had not returned half alive. Geatral, who had been watching him, said thoughtfully:

Camrad_RIP 09.03.25 в 06:15

"You know, Cirial, I was sure that with your wound, you wouldn't be able to get out of bed for a week. But the strength you've been given is truly amazing. Such progress in an instant without any tangible effects. Amazing. Although."

Camrad_RIP 09.03.25 в 06:16

Here she turned to Diantrel and looked at her attentively:

Camrad_RIP 09.03.25 в 08:47

"I still think it's too early for Cirial to do even such classes."

Camrad_RIP 09.03.25 в 08:48

The mentor, without blinking an eye or twitching her pointed ear, calmly replied:

Camrad_RIP 09.03.25 в 08:48

"His health is more than satisfactory, provided he rests. And for theoretical studies, nothing else is required. Moreover, his recovery is going quite well, isn't it?"

Camrad_RIP 09.03.25 в 08:52

"That's true. But complete peace would still be preferable..."

Camrad_RIP 09.03.25 в 08:53

The two elves' voices were polite, but for some reason Cyril felt uncomfortable with the expression in their eyes. To change the topic of conversation, he also asked the healer as politely as possible what the potion she had given him was made of. He added that it literally filled him with life force. And here Cyril was not lying, he could still feel the healing power of the potion being absorbed into his wounded energy nodes and channels. Geatral, turning to her patient, nodded briefly and said:

Camrad_RIP 09.03.25 в 06:19

"That's how it should be. It's a decoction of young leaves of the Tree of Life. They are also called Mallorn."

Camrad_RIP 05.03.25 в 20:48

When Cyril heard that, he froze in his chair. For some reason in his head again for a moment a surprisingly vivid image of Scrooge McDuck appeared. Or rather, not him, but Elfo-Scrooge-Duck, dressed in an elven outfit embroidered with gold, waving a golden plunger in a fit of purest, uncontaminated rage. But he disappeared as quickly as he had appeared.

Camrad_RIP 06.03.25 в 16:06