Blessed Curse

It was accidental, the first time Grayson realised what he was capable of. He was nine years old, playing in the yard with his little sister, Jenny. In the centre of the yard stood an old tree, its branches protruding in every direction, like fingers beckoning them to come closer. They could never resist.

Grayson had nearly reached the top and was leaning against the trunk, scanning the branches above him to see where he would go next. Suddenly, a loud snap and a scream pulled his attention below him. There was a soft thud, and Grayson saw Jenny sprawled on the earth below next to a dead, dry branch.

Eyes wide and barely breathing, Grayson slithered down the tree as fast as he could. Jenny was lying in a bundle, clutching her left shoulder and sobbing. Every sob made her little body tremble, sending another shot of pain through her shoulder. She wept louder and, Grayson cringed at the sound. He wanted to help, but he had no idea how.

Kneeling beside her, he gently wrapped his arms around her and hushed. Instantly, a splitting pain shot through his left shoulder. Grayson yelped and pulled away, right hand grasping at where he had felt the pain. Jenny stopped crying, and they stared at each other with wide eyes.

‘It doesn’t hurt so much anymore,’ she said, slowly sitting up.

She held her healthy arm out to Grayson, and he inched closer, unsure of whether he wanted to take it. With a sigh, he grabbed her hand and pulled her up. The pain in his shoulder flared up again, and he grimaced. But he held on to his sister’s hand until they were back in the house and his mother could take over.

The pain faded the moment Jenny let go of his hand, but it didn’t disappear completely. It lingered on for a little while, gradually becoming less until it was gone. Maybe it was just this once, Grayson thought. He shrugged it off and went back into the garden.

But it wasn’t the last time.

Grayson sighed, leaning back in his chair and gritting his teeth. Beside him lay an old man, shivering from fever but with a small smile on his face. He took a deep breath and nuzzled beneath the covers. Grayson wanted to scoff, but he knew he was doing the old man a favour. He had been in the infirmary for weeks now. The healers said he didn’t have long left, and Grayson was the one of very few who could ease the pain of his passing.

It had been years since that first day he took his sister’s pain. His mind always wandered to that moment when he was working with a new patient. He couldn’t help but wonder whether his gift would have manifested differently if it hadn’t been for that day. If he hadn’t wanted to help Jenny and make her feel better, would his gift have been different entirely? Or had he always been doomed to this?

The old man gasped softly, and his eyes shot open. He turned to Grayson and squeezed his hand tighter.

‘Bless you,’ he whispered as his eyelids slipped closed.

A few seconds later, the pain all over Grayson’s body began fading. He released the old man’s hand; it fell limply to the side of the cot. Grayson took a deep breath, got up, and stretched. It didn’t do much to ease the lingering pain, but he had been sitting with the old man for over an hour – he didn’t need stiff limbs in addition to the man’s suffering. At least now his patient was free forever.

‘He’s gone?’ someone asked from behind him.

Grayson glanced over his shoulder at Tristan. ‘Yeah, he just passed.’

Tristan nodded. ‘I’ll call someone to come get him. Right now, we need you in Hell Hall. A woman was thrown off her horse, and she’s in too much agony to work the wound.’

‘Didn’t you hear me? This man just died. I haven’t had any time to recover. You know I can’t take too much of this at short intervals. Can’t you get someone else?’

‘Everyone else is busy, and we can’t wait. The healers won’t be able to mend her until she calms down, but the pain is driving her mad.’

Grayson groaned. ‘Fine.’

Tristan turned and headed down the hall to the first room in the infirmary. They called it Hell Hall because it was where people with the worst injuries were brought. As Grayson entered, he saw his patient on a cot near the door, screaming and writhing. Her right arm was twisted in an unnatural direction, bits of bone were peeking out from her ribcage, and what must have once been the sky blue of her dress was rapidly becoming crimson. Grayson felt his stomach drop to his feet; he could have sworn it took his balls with it. This was going to be excruciating.

‘Come,’ Tristan said as he led Grayson over. Three healers were standing around the woman, trying to pin her down as gently as possible. They looked up at Grayson with blatant relief and stood back to let him pass.

He sank onto a chair beside the woman, but he couldn’t bring himself to reach out and take her hand. Tristan cleared his throat, and Grayson glared up at him. Then, he turned back to his patient, closed his eyes, clenched his jaw, and snatched her healthy arm up.

It was impossible not to scream as searing pain shot up the right side of his body. Grayson bit down harder and harder to keep quiet, but it didn’t help. He whimpered softly, groaned as he tried to stifle the air rising in his lungs, but he couldn’t contain it. A short burst of air escaped his lips loudly, and he hissed.

The healers immediately set to work, each tending to a different injury. At their touch, bone slowly crept back into place. The movement doubled the pain coursing through Grayson as he felt each bone returning to its natural position and each fibre weaving itself back together. Next came the tendons and the muscles and, finally, the skin, until there was no evidence left of the damage beside the blood-soaked dress.

The woman half-sighed, half-laughed as she threw her head back on the pillows. She lifted her right arm, clenched her fist, and released it again, smiling brightly. Grayson slowly let go of her arm. His head was foggy, and he could barely breathe. He beckoned to a nearby healer.

‘Bruises,’ he said as he gestured to the woman’s left arm before he succumbed to gravity and darkness.

***

By the time Grayson woke up, it was nearly dusk. He felt the thin mattress of an infirmary cot beneath him and stared blindly up at the ceiling. The pain had subsided, but now he was left with the numbness he felt when he had gone too far. It made each limb seem heavier – even his organs seemed to have morphed into iron. He gasped as he dragged himself up and out of the cot. Stumbling on petrified legs, he snuck through the back door and out of town.

The infirmary was on the outskirts of town. Behind it ran a narrow dirt road that led deeper into the surrounding forest. The air was cool and moist as the day’s heat seeped away with the sinking sun. But Grayson didn’t feel the chill, nor the damp sponginess of the moss enveloping tree trunks that held him upright as he staggered on. Finally, he burst out from beneath the tree cover and fell to his knees beside a stream.

The sighing laugh of the woman flashed through his mind, and he grimaced. He wanted to hate how happy they were after they were healed; he wanted to be proud that he made it possible. But hate and pride meant he had to let himself feel, and he’d rather be consumed by this hollowness than by the pain that made it impossible to breathe. Even the memory of it made him cringe, and he shoved it down to where it couldn’t reach him.

‘Are you alright?’

Grayson startled and nearly fell over as he spun around to face the intruder. But as he saw her, he felt more like the one intruding.

She couldn’t be much younger than he was, perhaps early twenties. As she looked at him with her head tilted, her eyes reflected the rays of the sun playing across the water at her feet. She sat nestled at the base of a large tree, a book resting in the skirts of her simple, floral dress. Grayson shot to his feet.

‘Sorry to bother you,’ he mumbled, turning to head back to town.

‘You’re not bothering me,’ she stopped him. ‘Besides, you seem like you need the serenity of this place more than I do.’

‘Serenity?’

‘Yes, don’t you feel it? It’s so peaceful out here.’

Grayson examined the stream. He saw water flowing over rocks, variations of green and brown in the trees, and a mist that was creeping towards them. He looked back at her and shook his head. ‘No, I don’t. I feel nothing. And when I don’t feel nothing, I only feel pain.’

She stared at him for a moment, and Grayson was surprised to not find pity, but understanding in her features. Setting her book aside, she got up.

‘I think I can help,’ she said, walking closer and reaching her hand out towards him. Grayson instantly took a step back, and she paused.

‘I prefer not to touch people if I can help it,’ he explained, his mouth drawn in a tight line.

‘Why not?’

‘My gift,’ he spat. ‘Whenever I touch someone, I feel whatever pain they’re feeling, no matter how deeply within them it’s buried.’

‘That’s some gift,’ she answered with a small laugh. ‘But don’t worry, I can still help. May I?’

She held her hand out towards him again. Grayson didn’t move. He stared at her hand, the memory of the woman’s pain he had just taken flashing through his mind again. But the woman in front of him wasn’t asking him to take her pain. She wasn’t crying, or screaming, or twisting about, begging for relief. She seemed calm and happy. Grayson couldn’t imagine anything ever hurting her.

Taking a deep breath, Grayson reached out and took her hand.

It was like nothing he had ever felt before. The heaviness in his limbs dissolved, replaced by a lightness that made him wonder if gravity had disappeared. He held her hand tighter. The near-constant aching in his veins vanished completely and breathing became easier. He felt free, ready to run around without a care like he hadn’t done since he was a child.

He looked back over the scene around him. It looked completely different. The trees stood tall and proud, their branches stretching towards the sky to grasp at the last light of the fading sun. The light, in turn, drifted down into the valley to play between the fleecy, white droplets of the mist and glide across the cascading water in shimmering crystals.

A gentle breeze flittered through the air and caressed Grayson’s skin. The coolness was soothing as he closed his eyes and listened to the rustling of the leaves and the trickling of the stream. It was peace like he had never known could exist and never realised how much he needed.

The young woman’s grip loosened, and she slipped her hand from his. Grayson’s eyes shot open, worried that his new-found serenity would disappear. He braced himself for the pain to return – but it didn’t. He relaxed his crunching shoulders and grinned at the miracle worker beside him.

‘Thank you,’ he breathed.

She grinned back at him. ‘I’m Ava.’

‘Grayson,’ he answered as he took her hand again for a second and shook it. ‘I haven’t seen you around town before.’

‘My family just recently moved to a house outside of town. I’m still finding my place here,’ Ava said with a sheepish smile.

‘I don’t know; it seems like you found a pretty great place right here,’ Grayson countered, gesturing to the spot where she had been reading.

Ava laughed and nodded. ‘It is a wonderful place, but I would like to see more of town sometime.’

‘Maybe I can show you around, say tomorrow? To thank you for your help.’

‘It was no trouble. I like using my gift. But I won’t turn you down on your offer.’

‘Then I’ll see you tomorrow. I work at the infirmary. It’s at the end of this path here. You can meet me there at around midday.’

‘I look forward to it.’

***

By noon the next day, Grayson was exhausted again. The peace he had experienced the previous day seemed like a distant memory, but he clung to it with all the energy he could muster. He kept a close watch on the rising sun and refused to see any other patients the moment it reached the centre of the sky. Before Tristan could drag him back to the Room Afore where the dying patients lay, he slipped out and made his way to where the stream path let out.

He didn’t have to wait long before Ava arrived. As she stepped out from beneath the trees’ shadows, the sun caught on her long golden-brown hair and the little purple and crimson flowers decorating it. She smiled brightly at him and came closer, but Grayson took a step back.

‘It’s been a long morning,’ he explained as Ava watched him with wide eyes, her slightly head tilted, ‘and I don’t want to burden you with it.’

Her expression softened. ‘You won’t burden me.’

 ‘Doesn’t it hurt you taking pain?’ he asked, frowning.

‘Not at all. My gift is to give peace to people, but not in exchange for whatever is troubling them.’

Grayson gaped at her, and she laughed, taking a step forward with her hand stretched toward him. Still a bit sceptic, Grayson carefully took it. Their fingers intertwined, and immediately, the peace from the day before returned. Grayson closed his eyes and took a deep breath as the sensation seeped into his limbs, his muscles, his veins. He felt like sinking to the ground and floating away at the same time.

Opening his eyes, he looked at Ava and studied her face. She was smiling; there was no evidence that she was feeling any pain, that touching him hurt her in any way. And for the first time since he was nine, Grayson didn’t feel any pain from touching someone either. No physical pain, no emotional agony – only this tranquillity that made the breeze softer and the birdsong sweeter.

‘I’ve never met anyone with your kind of gift before,’ Grayson said as they let go of each other’s hand.

‘It manifested when I was eleven,’ Ava said as they began walking toward town. ‘I had spent the day in a meadow near our house, and everything about that day was perfect. It was spring, and the sun was bright, but not scorching. Fresh blooms were budding at my feet, and I spent hours watching insects and birds fluttering about. I imagined myself becoming one of them, soaring above the tall grasses and through the sky.

‘That thought was still in my mind when I arrived home and found my mother in tears after an argument with my father. I wanted her to feel the peace I had felt, so I hugged her and poured the memory of those hours in the meadow into her until it filled her mind, heart, and soul. When my father came home feeling horrible for storming out, I did the same for him, and they were able to talk through their argument without any more problems. Helping them felt better than all those hours in the meadow, and I’ve loved using my gift ever since.’

‘I hate using my gift,’ Grayson said, staring down at the dirt at his feet as they walked. Somehow, hearing Ava so excited about her gift made him feel guilty. ‘I know shouldn’t. I can help people in ways others can’t, and it’s just temporary for me, but it feels more like a curse; it’s exhausting.’

‘You could have chosen not to use it.’

‘I tried, but I could never stand aside and watch someone in pain knowing I could help. I never meant to start working at the infirmary, but now I can’t leave, and I swear they have no regard for the toll taking pain takes on me,’ Grayson scoffed, scowling at the road ahead with Tristan’s face drifting through his mind.

‘Is there no one else like you in town?’

‘Not many, no. If there are more, they don’t talk about it. We have many healers, but they can’t heal the dying or help someone in too much pain to cooperate. And that’s my job – easing pain by putting myself through it.’

Grayson sighed. When he wasn’t in the middle of taking someone’s pain, he felt proud of what he could do. Now, with the peace Ava’s gift had given him, he almost couldn’t remember what he was complaining about. Suddenly, he looked back at the moments people smiled or laughed and thanked him for giving them relief without scorn. He held his head a little higher.

Ava was quiet for a little while. Then, she stopped and half-turned back towards the infirmary. ‘I want to help,’ she said with a conviction Grayson had stopped feeling years ago.

‘Are you sure?’

‘Yes, I am. Where else will I be able to put my gift to any better use? And maybe with me there, it will take some of the burden off you.’

‘It really would help to have someone else at the infirmary who could make life and death easier for patients,’ Grayson said, glancing at the trees that hid the large stone building. He often felt trapped there, and he didn’t wish it on Ava. But she was beaming at him, clearly excited at the prospect of working there. He smiled and nodded. ‘I’ll introduce you to Tristan when we head back. He oversees everything at the infirmary. I’m sure he’ll be happy for you to join us.’

‘Thank you, I appreciate it,’ Ava answered, grinning broadly.

‘Don’t thank me yet,’ Grayson said, chuckling as they continued walking. ‘Tristan is a very difficult person to work for. He may need the peace you can offer more than most of the patients.’

‘Then I’ll be sure to give him a good handshake when we meet,’ Ava answered with a smirk.

***

As Grayson predicted, Tristan was overjoyed to meet Ava and add her gift to the infirmary’s skillset. Ava made a point of greeting Tristan first with a long handshake and a sly smile in Grayson’s direction every morning she came to work. No matter what level of pain his patient at that moment was in, he could never keep himself from grinning back at her.

Working at the infirmary became paradise after Ava joined. She was eager to pacify anyone Grayson didn’t have the capacity to help, and when he had taken more than he should, she was quick to offer a soothing hand. The only room she seemed to avoid was the Room Afore, but Grayson barely noticed. He was just happy to go home every day feeling renewed and happy instead of drained and aching like he used to.

Grayson settled into this new routine with ease. Within weeks, he couldn’t remember what life was like before he had met Ava – until the day she didn’t come to work gave him a brutal reminder.

The day passed slowly, and Grayson kept his gaze fixed on the door, expecting Ava to walk through any moment. But noon came and went without any Ava, and soon, dusk began creeping in.

Grayson could barely walk when it was time to leave. Without Ava’s help, he had to take more patients than he had needed to in months. Half the town seemed to have been in the infirmary, leaving Grayson with very little time to rest and no chance to recover. He stumbled out of the infirmary in a daze and stared toward where the stream path was. Gathering what strength he had left, he dragged himself through the forest.

The rustling of the breeze and the trickling of the water wasn’t exactly the same as it had been the day he had met Ava, but the memory was still enough to ease the too-familiar heaviness in his limbs. He felt his strength and energy return slightly and began scanning the surroundings. He vaguely wondered which direction Ava’s house was in when he became aware of a figure huddled up behind a nearby tree.

He squinted in the fading light, but there was no denying who it was. ‘Ava?’

Ava looked up from where her head was resting on her knees. Grayson was stunned to see the puffy redness in her eyes and the dampness on her cheeks. He inched closer, feeling the overwhelming urge to take away whatever was hurting her.

‘Grayson?’ Her voice was small, but she still tried smiling as she wiped at her tears.

‘What happened?’ Grayson asked. He reached her side and took a seat next to her, just far enough away that they didn’t touch. ‘You never came to the infirmary; I was coming to search for your house.’

‘Oh, we live quite some distance upstream. I’ll show you someday,’ she said as her gaze travelled in the direction she was referring to. As soon as she had turned away, her face fell again. Grayson ached to reach out and touch her.

‘Ava, what’s wrong?’

Ava sighed, wrapped her arms tighter around her legs, and rested her head on her knees again. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t come to work today or warn you that I wouldn’t. I didn’t realise how much it still hurt until I got up this morning.’

‘How much what still hurt?’

Ava turned her head and peered at him from beneath a strand of her hair. ‘My brother. He passed away today a year ago. The memory overwhelmed me this morning when I woke up. I spent most of the day with my parents. I was able to comfort them, but I can’t comfort myself in the same way.’

Grayson’s eyes flicked to Ava’s bare shoulder, and he gulped. ‘What happened to him?’

‘He became sick. I couldn’t help him. I could ease his suffering and give him peace as he died, but I couldn’t save him.’ Ava’s voice broke as fresh tears flowed down her cheeks and she nuzzled her head back into her arms.

Grayson began looking away when a realisation hit him. ‘That’s why you don’t like working with the dying patients. It reminds you of your brother.’

Ava shuddered and nodded. ‘I feel awful about it, but every time I go near that room, I see Kyle fighting for his life, and I feel as powerless as I did then.’

‘I didn’t feel any of this any of the times we touched since we met,’ Grayson said with a frown.

Ava turned to him with a small, sheepish smile. ‘I hide it well. Usually, when I use my gift, any other feelings that conflict with the peace I’m trying to give get stifled for a moment. People feel what I want them to feel.’

Grayson met her gaze and watched her intently for a moment. He knew what that felt like, stifling what he wanted to feel in an effort to help others feel something else. He knew it was exhausting. ‘You said it didn’t hurt using your gift.’

‘It doesn’t. I don’t mind those moments. It’s different for me than it is for you. You stifle positive feelings when you take someone’s pain. I suppress negative feelings to give others peace. It gives me a moment of peace as well.’

‘That can’t be good for you.’

‘I don’t know any other way,’ Ava whispered.

Grayson glanced at her shoulder again. ‘Maybe I can help.’

Ava smiled again but shook her head. ‘You don’t have to. It must have been a long day at the infirmary, having to help more patients alone again.’

‘It doesn’t matter. You’ve made these past three months the best I’ve had in years. If I can help even a little bit by easing your pain, I want to.’

Ava watched the stream for a moment before she turned back to him. ‘Alright, you can take it.’

Grayson smiled and nodded. Then, he reached out, wrapped his arms around her shoulders, and held her close.

It felt different from taking other people’s pain. It started the same: a dull ache prodding at his heart, gradually increasing in intensity as Ava’s longing and guilt filled him. After a few seconds, he could feel the heaviness in his bones, the agony in his heart, and the knot in his throat – but it wasn’t suffocating him. He didn’t feel the urge to weep as blinding grief consumed him along with the usual need to suppress the tears. Not because it wasn’t sincere or intense, but because even as Ava’s suffering became his, her serenity did as well.

Her gift was still there, relieving the pain as he absorbed it – soothing him as he soothed her. The heaviness in his limbs lifted even as it weighed him down. His wounded heart wove itself back together even while he remained acutely aware of the aching. The knot in his throat eased despite the tremor in his body that told him of her sorrow. It was the best feeling he had ever felt, the balance between hurting and healing.

As they sat there, Ava gradually relaxed into his arms and huddled against him. They stayed like that long after the pain had subsided for them both, and all that remained was the tranquillity of the moment. When the sun disappeared completely behind the treetops and the mist thickened over the river, they got up. Hand-in-hand, they crossed the river and headed upstream, guided by the light of the stars shining serenely above them.

Written: August 2024