Bridging Worlds: Book 1 Celestoria's Time
The Wounded Stranger

The forest was dense and alive with the sounds of nature as they continued their journey to Celestoria. Suddenly, a wounded and half-conscious young man stumbled out from the underbrush, shocking the trio.

Geran’s instincts immediately kicked in as he surveyed their surroundings, searching for any potential threats. Rosche, however, knelt beside the injured young man, her emerald eyes filled with concern. She carefully flipped him over and gasped when she saw the dagger still impaled in his lower abdomen, blood flowing freely. Sᴇaʀ*ᴄh the FindNʘᴠᴇl.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“What happened to you?” Rosche asked, her voice trembling with worry.

Geran approached the young man and examined the wound. “You’re bleeding heavily, but it looks like the dagger didn’t hit any vital organs. Still, he’s losing a lot of blood.”

Eamon, who had been studying the dagger, chimed in, “It was the Darkbane’s doing.”

Both Geran and Rosche turned to Eamon with furrowed brows. “How do you know?” Geran inquired.

Eamon explained, “The dagger... it’s a customized weapon. I saw them once in Hendrix when the Darkbane tribe attacked our village.”

“Darkbane? You mean those murderous rebels?” Rosche said, disbelief in her voice.

Eamon nodded. “Yeah, they’ll kill anyone on sight.”

The wounded young man groaned in pain, diverting their attention back to his dire situation. “Do you have any idea how to treat his wound, brother?” Rosche turned to Geran.

“I can,” Geran replied, taking charge of the situation. “First, we need to remove the dagger and apply pressure to the wound.”

Rosche followed Geran’s instructions, carefully pulling out the dagger and immediately putting pressure on the young man’s wound. Meanwhile, Geran retrieved a piece of cloth and a vial of healing powder from his straw bag, intending to use it to treat the wound.

“Remove your hand, Rosche,” Geran instructed, as he prepared to apply the healing powder.

Rosche obeyed, and Geran began to apply the healing powder to the wound, but his hand hung in the air, halted mid-motion. “Why did you stop?” Eamon asked.

Geran paused for a moment, his brow furrowed with worry. “He’s poisoned,” he finally declared.

Rosche and Eamon leaned in, their eyes widening in shock. “Poisoned? How?” Rosche asked.

Eamon pointed to the dagger. “It’s the dagger. It must be laced with poison.”

With the realization that the young man had been poisoned with a potentially deadly substance from the land of Umbralith, Rosche felt a sense of desperation. She turned to Geran, her eyes filled with concern, and asked, “Then what are we going to do now? Do you have any antidote for poisons?”

Geran retrieved his vial of healing powder but shook his head, explaining, “Although my knowledge in medicine is vast, we don’t have the necessary equipment here. Besides, I’ve heard that the Darkbane tribe uses poison from the land of Umbralith. It’s notoriously difficult to cure.”

Rosche’s frustration was palpable as she asked, “Is there really no other option or any herb that can help him?”

Eamon chimed in with a grim tone, “Although Umbralith’s poison is hard to cure, it can be suppressed. But given that it was the Darkbanes who did it, the poison must be concentrated in the dagger. I don’t think he can last a day, Rosche.”

As they grappled with the dire situation, Geran suddenly remembered something. “Wait!” he exclaimed, capturing the attention of his companions.

Rosche and Eamon turned to him, eager to hear any possible solution. “Umbralith... The Luminaflora flower,” Geran said.

Rosche was puzzled. “What is that?”

Geran explained, “It’s a magical flower that can cure any illness, even fatal ones.”

Eamon, sensing a glimmer of hope, asked, “Where can we find it?”

Geran sighed and said, “It was with a lady I met in the woods before. She told me she would spare some petals if I could go to Umbralith and find someone named Eowyn.”

Eamon contemplated the situation. “Umbralith is very far from where we are now. It will take five days or more to get there, Geran.”

Geran nodded solemnly. “I know, but it’s the only solution I know of that can save him.”

Rosche voiced her concern, glancing at the unconscious young man. “He may not survive long enough for us to reach Umbralith.”

Eamon scanned their surroundings, assessing their options. “I’ve heard there’s a nearby village here. If we set out now, we can reach it before sunset.”

“That’s a better plan,” Rosche agreed. “I hope he can hold on until then.”

With that, Geran took out a pill from his bag and handed it to Rosche. “This is AquaSolace. It can suppress the poison for a few hours.”

Rosche gently administered the pill to the unconscious young man and murmured, “We must go now.”

Geran took the young man onto his back, and the trio embarked on their journey to the nearby village, their hope intertwined with uncertainty as they desperately sought help for the wounded stranger.

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