Healera

It was 300 years ago.

It was a hot summers day in Turkey, the sound of cicadas basking in the heat took up the noise in a young lady’s ear as she desperately ran across the browning open fields. Dust escaped between the friction of her feet and the ground.

She was panting heavily as she held onto her sickly son. Her scarf loosened from her head as she continued running. However, even if she was getting tired, the look on her son’s face was enough for her to keep going until she finally found it.

The tree that she was led to in her dream.

There was clearly something unordinary about this tree as it contrasted with the rest of the field. It seemed to flourish, unfazed by those around it. Freshly vibrant like it had just bloomed.

The beautiful young lady laid her frail son in front of the tree. Every time she looked at him, she was reminded of her desperation. She kneeled down, “Please save my son!”

“I beg of you! Take my life if you need to! Please save him!” She cried, an unending stream of tears rolling down her cheeks. “I have gone to every doctor in the village but none could cure him!”

It seemed like she was talking to no one until the spirit awoke from her desperate cries. The spirit was also in the image of a young man. He was dressed in a long cloak fit for the time, with long, soft curls in his hair and hazel eyes. “Isn’t it rude to awaken a spirit in broad daylight?”

The hope that she was losing in her eyes had slowly glimmered again but not a single word was exchanged for a moment. The man in front of her was truly a spirit?

She shook from her daze as she proceeded to bow before the spirit. “Please help my son! He has been riddled by a terrible disease!”

The spirit eyed her and the son in question. “How did you find this place?”

“My dream led me here,”

“Ohh,” The spirit, clearly unbothered, understood. “You must be the visitor He was talking about,”

He kneeled down before the child, inspecting his heavy breathing. The lady watched him with pleading eyes. “Is there a chance you can cure him? All the doctors in the village said there was no hope…”

He pursed his lips before he looked back to her. “Of course there is no chance, there is only so much a mortal can do,”

She rushed to the spirit, holding his hand and plead in her gaze. “Please! There must be a way!”

The spirit was stunned as he watched her miserable condition. The young lady had beautifully melanated skin, her jet black eyes and hair adding contrast to the rest of her face. However, her dark circles and sunken cheeks made her seem worn out. Her lips were dry like she had not drank nor eaten in days. Her son was the spitting image of her. It was almost like after years of being a wandering spirit stuck to this damned tree, the spirit felt sorrow for the first time.

He cleared his throat. “How do I know that your wish is genuine? I only help those whose wishes are from the deepest depths of the heart,”

“I am widowed.” Her voice was still hoarse from all the crying. She took a moment to speak. “He is my only son and family, if he dies then I’m as good as dead,”

He exhaled and a moment of silence hung in the air for far too long. “If that is the case, then I can help you but only if you bring me a sacrifice.”

“What is the sacrifice?”

“Cake.”

“Cake?” She remained physically stunned.

“Is that a problem?” He tilted his head to a side, unsuspecting as to whether his sternness stemmed from offense or under the guise of reminding the young lady of the gravity of her circumstances.

She shook her head immediately. “Forgive me, I thought you would want a lamb or a goat-“

“Well I want cake.” He cut her off.

The lady could not believe her ears but the situation was already unordinary as it was. If it meant that her son would be cured at the expense of a cake, then she was more than willing even if the request was a strange one. She didn’t question him further, she could not afford to waste any more time for her son. “I will return in the evening!”

The young lady picked up her son again. The spirit watched as she ran back in the direction she came from. The spirit seemed indifferent as he did. There was a dull breeze filling the air, quiet enough to make it feel all the more lonesome. It had been a very long while since he last had a visitor.

The day went by painfully slow, there were not any people to watch as the tree was in the middle of nowhere. The spirit couldn’t really wander further from the tree without being catapulted back to its side. Imagine when he first became a spirit, how many times he tried to defy his fate but only to be pulled back every single time.

Across all seasons of 700 years that passed, it was all the same. The same sky, the same land, the same thoughts. The spirit sighed, sat with his back pressed against the tree.

“Mr Spirit!”

“Mr Spirit?” He grimaced at the name he was given as he watched the widow run towards him with the cake in a bag and her son on her arms.

The widow laid her son to the ground, setting up the cake and sliced it like it was a ceremonial offering. She watched him with eager eyes as he reluctantly got off of his comfortable spot. She was kneeling as she watched him take his first bite. “Is it good?”

“It's... passable at best,” He devoured the entire slice.

Seemingly satisfied, the spirit looked the widow in the eye and said. “I accept your sacrifice but in order for your wish to fulfill, you must place your hand upon the tree and think of it. If it is from the deepest depths of the heart, it shall come true,”

He watched her as she placed her hand on the tree and closed her eyes. Her eyelids were trembling from the tears that were waiting to come out. A ray of particles emitted from the tree and swirled towards the little boy, circling around his entire body. His skin regaining its colour.

The little boy, who was struggling to move or speak moments ago, slowly sat up and looked at his mother. “Mother…”

The widow slowly opened her eyes, her hands shaking at the miracle in front of her. She was in disbelief, her son was calling for her the healthiest he’s ever looked. Her tears relentlessly poured when they embraced.

A cool breeze joyfully celebrated the miracle as the spirit pursed his lips. They were probably going to be the last set of humans he was going to witness for another century but he had no idea he would see them again the next couple of days.

“Father!” A small boy’s voice called in the empty land, surprising the spirit.

“Father?”

“Forgive me, he wouldn’t stop talking about you,” The widow awkwardly said as she caught up to her son. “I hope we’re not a bother,”

The spirit rose an eyebrow. “Did you make me your child’s father?”

The widow blushed, embarrassed as she denied. “He had called you that way since the day he was cured, I keep telling him calling you that is not appropriate but…”

She proceeded to scold her child as she set out some cake where the spirit laid. “I don’t believe I could thank you enough,”

“Are you sure this isn’t your way of making another wish?”

She shook her head, hugging her child. “My only wish was to have my son by my side,”

It felt like his lonesome days were slowly coming to an end as these two humans visited him with cake every day. His cold, unapproachable demeanour melted from the ray of sunshine that were his companions, Mehet and Emir. Never in his 700 years, has he met such warm people.

“Mr spirit!”

“You’re here again?” The spirit faked a scoff as he pushed himself up from laying.

Mehet smiled. “There there, I know you enjoy my company,”

Meanwhile, her son Emir, was enjoying the space around him as he was running. While the pair watched him, Mehet asked. “You know, Emir is very bothered that you cannot leave the tree’s side. He always complains to me about not bringing you to live with us,”

The spirit let out a short laugh as Mehet continued to stare at him, sympathetically. “Forgive my rudeness but is there a reason you are bound to this tree?”

“That is a very rude question to ask of a spirit,” He said. “But I see no harm in telling you,”

He exhaled for a moment. “700 years ago, I was son to a Sultan and Sultana of this country. When the Sultan fell ill, I had brothers who were thirsting for the throne but that was promised to me. Growing up, I was never interested in the throne. I would disguise and enter among the civilians to help them. That was enough for me but as the responsibility for me to become Sultan grew, so did the greed of my brothers. Despite seeing their jealously, I was a fool who trusted them until my last breath,”

“I was poisoned as they stood before me, swearing their loyalty. I was buried like I was nothing under this tree. I expected nothing but pitch blackness when I left the world but I became a spirit.”

“That must be your unresolved issue, right? That must be why you became a spirit, you were wronged!” She said, in disbelief. “Have you never had a desire to get revenge?”

He sighed, leaning his back. “I wonder… I never really had such desires. Maybe it’s because He felt sorrow for me that He gifted me the ability to grant people’s wishes through this tree.”

“You must’ve been a very good person, I believe He only rewards those who have been exceptionally good.”

“This does not feel like a reward at all… Humans are selfish beings who only desire what is good for themselves and ruin others. I don’t understand why it was even my desire to help them when I was alive, they only saw me for my wealth. They flattered me just because they knew the Sultan’s idiot for a son will do anything to help them,”

“Is that why the only condition of the wish is to be from the deepest depths of the heart?”

“That and because He agrees. He has always been about true intentions. That’s why I did not have a lot of humans visit over the years,”

Mehet nodded in acknowledgement. “It must’ve been very lonely… But now you won’t be anymore,”

The spirit looked at her stunned again. She was the only human to ever surprise him at every interaction. “That is rather daring,”

“I will forever be indebted to you, consider myself, my son and our future generations at your service from now on!”

The spirit laughed wholeheartedly not believing what he was hearing. The peace and happiness he felt with these two humans was a feeling he had completely forgotten but those days were slowly coming to an end after the entire village found out about the tree.

Initially, they grew suspicious of Emir’s sudden recovery and followed Mehet after one of her visits. All of a sudden, swarms of people filled the once empty land with cries of desperation. The spirit didn’t mind as he helped cure all the more people. At first, individuals flocked to the tree to heal their family members but eventually tried their hands at other wishes, weakening the spirit.

Many were angered that others’ wishes were granted while theirs' weren’t. It had garnered so much attention that the tree was dubbed a healing tree by the doctors in the village.

Eventually sensing the spirit’s exhaustion, Mehet grew frustrated but what had become the final straw was the Sultan’s reinstatement of the tree inside the village for monetary gain to create a dream utopia. Rather than it being carried by the spirit’s blessing, the Sultan had taken credit for its healing properties.

Just as they wanted to pull the tree from its root, Mehet boldly stood in front of the tree, screaming at the higher ups. “THIS IS THE SPIRIT’S PROPERTY! YOU CANNOT DO THIS!”

Visibly annoyed, the Sultan sighed in frustration. “Get her out of the way,”

“I WILL NOT LEAVE UNTIL YOU RECONSIDER!”

It had been like that every time they tried until the Sultan had enough. He had turned the entire village against her as he ordered her execution. The spirit watched his men drag her away, chasing them desperately as if he could ever catch her. He felt powerless as he was catapulted by a huge force back to the tree.

Later that day, the Sultan smirked as Mehet watched him with blood rolling down her face. Her son was held back, his cries echoed in the village. The spirit was distraught that he could not save her as he waited, helplessly anticipating what was to come. He had tried to threaten the Sultan but all he had gotten back was a pompous laugh.

The little boy dragged his mother back to the tree, struggling to carry her. The spirit ran to them the moment they were within his perimeters. Sorrow in his eyes as he took Mehet from the child’s back.

“Father! You must help her please!” The child was sobbing the entire path, his voice becoming increasingly incoherent. “I bought the sacrifice too! Please!”

He revealed a cake slice that seemed smeared all over like he took it from somewhere secretly and hid it just for this. The spirit laid down the precious woman before him. Tears were forming at the rim of his waterline.

Across centuries he had never formed an attachment to any of his subjects but in such a short time, the woman and child in front of him became the most precious to him. The son heartbreakingly went according to the guidelines of making a wish. “Please, heal my mother!”

Impatiently, he looked to his mother but not a sign of life was within her. He tried again and again and again but there was no hope.

“Why is it not working?!” His vision started to blur. “I can’t live without my mother! I don’t want her gone!”

“Your mother no longer breathes…” The spirit broke the news, disheartened.

“There is no way! My mother was breathing on the way!” He ran to his mother.

“That is a limitation of the wish, you cannot revive one from the dead once the heart stops. Such that, that is the fate of humanity,” He was desolate as he exposed Emir to such a harsh reality at a young age.

“You said you can make wishes come true! You made my mother’s wish come true! Why can’t you make mine come true too?!” He screamed.

“I’m sorry…”

A day had passed, the higher ups were ecstatic to relocate the tree but as they did, the tree slowly darkened and withered. Shrivelling like all the life it was powered with was lost. The Sultan was shocked and confused, how could a tree react like this?

The villagers were angered that their only hope for healing was gone. All because they listened to their selfish leader but the world went on. The little boy grew up and found himself a beautiful wife.

The day the tree had been destroyed, the spirit could wonder freely. He stayed besides Emir until he grew up but the time for him to leave had to come eventually as he stood where Mehet and himself were buried.

Emir joined him with his wife. “Can you really leave? Was it not until your unresolved issue was eased?”

The spirit smiled. “It was eased long ago when I had met your mother. Your mother helped me understand that the most genuine wish a mortal can make is wishing the health of a loved one. Maybe it was something I wished my brothers did for me after I was poisoned, that is what He had tried to make me understand,”

He turned to Emir. “I have been here forever, I believe it is finally time for me to leave,”

Tears had brimmed in Emir’s eyes, he didn’t want the spirit gone but he had realised after his mother’s passing that nothing lasted forever. He embraced the spirit, withholding the tears that were threatening to come out.

But he could only choke up the words. “Farewell… Father,”

The spirit’s eyes softened. “Before I leave, I hope to bless you and your future generations as per your mother’s promise. May yourself, your wife and your future generations be blessed with Healers upon the first child so that if anyone is in desperate need of healing, you have them in my memory.”

He let go for a moment as he gave Emir some tree seeds. “In my honour and your mother’s, please do nurse this tree and your deepest wishes shall be fulfilled,”

“Farewell, you were to me like a wonderful son,” The spirit sincerely smiled but Emir pulled him back into the embrace, wanting to hide the stream of tears that were defining his face.

The spirit noticed Emir’s shoulders shaking from his silent cries as he slowly became nothing more than glowing particles that were fine as dust and washed away towards the sky.

“And that was a brief history into how Healers originated according to the memoirs of Emir’s wife and Jade Henerdy's interpretation of the memoirs in her book 'The Lonely Entity',” Mrs Smith summarised in front of our literature class.

One of the students rose their hands up. “If the spirit had an unresolved issue, wouldn’t that be the same for Mehet? Her death was also unfair,”

“That’s a good question, the original translations of the memoir never talked about this but in Jade Henerdy’s book, she described that after the spirit had fulfilled her wish, Mehet’s life purpose became to serve the spirit and the tree. When she tried to stop the Sultan, she knew that even until her death she fought to protect her life’s purpose. She, like the spirit, did not wish for revenge. She didn’t blame anyone for her death. She died satisfied that she did everything she could to protect what she wanted most, including her son,” Mrs Smith explained.

Another classmate asked. “So the tree was completely gone? Did no one try to use it after?”

“In Jade Henerdy’s book, she briefly mentions that people did try it after but no one’s wishes came true. Don’t take the memoirs too seriously though, they’re considered fiction more than non-fiction. I just explained it to hopefully give you some background in how Healers became so prevalent in fiction over the years,”

“Should we go on a hunt to find this tree?” One of the boys in front of me joked, whispering to his friend. “I want to be a millionaire so bad,”

I couldn't help but quietly chuckle at their conversation after making accidental eye contact with one of my seatmates. The bell rang, the sound of pens being shoved inside backpacks reaching a crescendo. I felt my phone vibrate in the midst of it. Luckily Mrs Smith's hearing wasn't the most finetuned. It was a text from my best friend, Nari.

'Rosy save me! Jefferson wants me to stay behind,' I smiled when I imagined her crying inside when she sent it.

'Sorry girl, I was done with Mr Jefferson the moment we finished our finals. You have my prayers though!'

'You have the loyalty of a fish! I rebuke your status as my best friend until further notice.'

'I was just on my way to grab you a matcha latte but I guess you're not up for it anymore...'

'You can't just sweet talk your way out of this Rosy.' Another text followed soon after. 'Please get it with extra foam!'

"Ooo Rosaire, who are you texting? Is it perhaps your boyfriend?" One of my classmates, who sat on the same table as me, teased.

She earned a nudge from her friend. "Hey, don't be nosy..."

"What? It was just an innocent question, did I say something wrong Rosaire?" The same classmate awkwardly said.

There was an awkward shift in the air for a moment. Damn it, all because of those rumours. All because of him. Maybe it showed on my face a little more than it should've but I couldn't really escape those rumours, it became so widespread among our year that it was practically considered the truth. I hated it so much - no, I hated him so much. The thought of him was overhanging me like a misfortune, he was the very essence of my final year going to shambles.

My lips corners rose a little less than they usually would have as I tried to play it off. "Sorry to disappoint you two but it's just Nari, she's wanting a matcha latte delivered,"

They chuckled, the suspense easing a little in the air. "Oh does the canteen make good ones? I've been wanting to try it,"

We were talking on our way out before one of them discreetly changed the subject once Mrs Smith was out of earshot. “Guys is it just me or was today's lesson useless? Like what's the point of going through the history of Healers on a book we’re not even going to be assessed on?”

“Haha you know Mrs Smith loves rambling, her lessons are such a waste of time,” Her friend, giggled. “But for real, it’s such a shame that the one wish that mostly comes true on that tree is healing. I feel like if I genuinely find it, I could meet my soulmate,”

“Yeah right, keep dreaming,” They both burst out laughing. “Seriously, that man must’ve been hallucinating when he saw the spirit,”

"We'll see you around Rosaire..." I bid them goodbye.

That man was my ancestor...

It’s something I couldn’t really say without looking like a complete lunatic. My eyes trailed them as they sauntered down the corridor. I plugged in my earphones as I decided to wait until Nari got out instead.

The author definitely did her research. While the memoirs were basically considered a myth written from the perspective of lunatic, they were one of the oldest indicators of my family's secret.

I was a Healer of many generations.

The origins were just as my mother told me yet it seemed to be the same problem when it came to people finding out. She drilled it into me to never tell a single soul, not even my closest friends.

That was because before I was born, the government captured my parents. I remember the horrors of being trapped in those labs like I was there as my mother described them, the helplessness she felt as she watched my father’s healing abilities get drained from him. Unfortunately, I never met him but deep down, I wanted to believe he was still alive.

I got distracted from the music playing in my ears as I made direct eye contact with him. I couldn’t hear him but I knew he was calling my name. I noticed how his disheveled, dark hair bounced as he strode in my direction.

I swung my foot in the opposite direction like my eye roll controlled it and paced forward to let him take a hint. That turned out to be a complete failure as his body stood in front of me. My eyes reluctantly looked a little higher to meet his dark eyes that contrasted with his ice beige skin. I couldn’t help but notice that just under his eyes, there seemed to be a fading bruise.

His name is Hazen Alistair, his middle name is a dense imprudent who just can’t seem to mind his own business. We never got along since the very first day we met. He was like one of those guys that liked to show off they could fight. The type that if there was a fight going on, he’d always be in the centre of it. He’s one of the type of guys I couldn’t stand the most.

Unfortunately, I had the displeasure of hearing the numerous rumours about him as he started missing days from school every couple of weeks, only to return with some sort of fading bruise. Rumours like him going to pick fights with other schools to defend our school’s honour or that he joined some gang or something ridiculous like he joined the Secret Intelligence Service.

People made up all these rumours about him but honestly, he was so shrouded in mystery that you couldn’t tell if he was the scary iron rod that everyone made him out to be or just a chill guy. I was inclined to believe neither.

His mouth made movement but I was not fazed as I increased the volume of the song playing. The crushing sentiment of my ear drums becoming more tolerable to me than the sound of his voice. He looked at me with dead eyes, completely aware of what I was doing.

He pulled out his phone to write something and then showed it to me. ‘Cool song, sounds like a nursery rhyme.’

He did what he always did, he struck a nerve. I pulled out my ear phones. “What do you want?”

“Listen let’s keep this conversation as short as possible,” He said it like he was already tired of the conversation. “Let me copy your biology notes,”

“Hmm let me think about it, no!” I stepped aside but he followed in front of me again.

“What do you mean no?”

“Just as it sounds,”

“Okay fine,” He closed his eyes in frustration before he looked at me again. “Please can you lend me your notes?”

“How is please going to make a difference?”

“Because you are a very nice person and you appreciate kindness and this conversation has already been going on for too long now,”

“This conversation ended the moment I said no, you’re the one blocking my way,” I stated, trying my luck again as I finally managed to walk away.

I sighed, he was walking besides me. “Are you seriously going to do this every time you take time off from school? Don’t you have friends in Biology that can help you? Eugene is in our class also!”

“There’s been... a bit of a situation. Please, we have a test tomorrow and Witchy Winfred is going to be on my case if I fail!”

“That’s none of my business, I don’t care,” I emphasised. “And stop following me before Winfred mysteriously hears that a certain someone started the witch allegations he's so annoyed about,”

“You're many things Elthea but I didn't take you for a liar." He stopped walking for a second before he cast that aside. "If you give me your notes, consider this conversation never happened in the first place,”

“So you’re just going to follow me until I give you my notes? Are you feeling okay?”

“That’s how desperate I am,”

“And this is how desperate I am to not give them to you!” I ran past him.

I looked back, noticing him almost trip as he chased behind me. Classmates quickly dodged us as we ran across the corridor. “JUST LEAVE ME ALONE! GO BOTHER SOMEONE ELSE!”

“Idiot! Do you seriously think this was my first option?!”

“Does it look like I give a fuck?” I turned in his direction, smirking as I no longer heard his steps, running backwards.

My smile dropped upon the reason why Hazen stopped. I covered my mouth at the vulgar words I just said, not because I cared but because the person making eye contact with me did. Mr Winfred wore on a sinister smile like he had just caught a mouse in a trap.

“It’s always you two, it’s like you come in a set of little mischievous troublemakers,” Mr Winfred spoke in an unsettling tone, emphasising the last couple of words.

“Hazen. Rosaire. A word please?”

Not again. I felt myself internally cry as I prepared myself for how long this lecture was going to take. The moment he turned his back, Hazen and I mouthed each other a myriad of colourful words as we followed him in.

I knew I had a feeling I shouldn’t have come to school today.