Cottage Patch

The Two Healers 🍂

Green cat eyes pierce yours instantly and leave you speechless. The girl smiles simply. “May I help you?” You only need a small potion. Your aunt has been sick for a while. You wouldn’t have resorted to questionable methods from people who are said to not really be people but no other method has worked. Nevertheless, you doubt yourself. Sharp eyes from cat and child are still waiting on your slow tongue. “I...my aunt. She has the croup. It won’t go. We have tried the bleeding. The tea. Everything.” The girl and the cat exchange a quick glance. “How long has she been ill?” “Two moons.” Another glance is exchanged between them, a faint flicker of empathy on both their still faces. “You did right in coming.” The child impulsively laid a cold hand on your arm. It was pale and clean, against the scarred and dirty arm. “Come.” She and the cat turned quickly. They both moved in cat like manner; gingerly stepping, glancing about. “I shall make a tea. The better tea. The best tea!” Her giggle was a brief bell like chime in the dense forest. It distracted and cheered you for a moment but you couldn’t get the pressing question out of your mind. It felt rude to ask, but... “I thought, Izen was a grown woman, I just don’t understand. Is that El, then?” The child turned and smiled. “I am El. That is Izen. It is easier for her to rest in a smaller body. We work well together this way. Sometimes I am a cat, sometimes she is a cat. Sometimes we are both cats.” She is easy to talk to and you forget your place. “Who is the cat?” “I forget!” She says lightly. You venture on dangerous territory. No one has spoken so boldly with El and Izen before. “Is she your master?” Her eyes narrow. “We serve no one but heal everyone. You wouldn’t understand our ways.” She no longer seems like a child. She seems terrifying and her energy is almost suffocating. You continue following but fall several steps back. As if you are breathing the summer sun itself, your lungs burn with goodness, but too much. Indignant pride radiates from El. Izen, still in cat form, meows in a smug manner. Your hands are trembling, so you hide them in your pockets. El motions for you to stop, and crosses a river with nimble bare feet. Izen watches you, with twitching whiskers, seeming bemused at your discomfort. El returns with a small bag of dried dark leaves and red berries. “The best tea!” She says lightly. The tiny sprite gleam is back in her eyes. She lays the pouch in your hands with written instructions. You offer her a gold coin; shakily. She is offended with the offer. “What do we need with your funny stones?” Izens whiskers twitch. And they both flit delicately back into the woods.