Olenus

Olenus

There had been a time in Olenus’ life where he could see himself doing great things. Despite being a wildclaw and despite growing up in a clan that favored sparring over anything, he was keen on learning healing medicines. Fighting meant there would be wounds, and wounds would need to be tended to with herbs and tinctures, stitches and wraps. It wasn’t a glamorous way to live, surrounded by blood and bones, but Olenus grew to have a knack for the healing arts. He took up an apprenticeship with the only healer in his birth clan, learning all he could from them as he grew through his adolescence into an adult. Olenus became a masterful healer, and when word spread of how well he was able to stave off gangrene from setting into the wounds of his patients, many came to the clan to seek his deft claws.

Olenus decided his gifts would be better suited offered up to any and all in the land. It would be a tough loss for his birth clan, but the wildclaw desired to make a name for himself. He wanted to heal kings and queens; Olenus desired to clear infection from the wounds of the old, young, poor and rich. If he could rid the world of the casualties of simple ailments then he would have felt his life had meant something, and those were the grandiose dreams of the wildclaw when he set out.

For the most part, he traveled from clan to clan, helping in infirmaries. Many clan doctors and healers were not too keen to let an outsider try their hands at their own clan’s members. He was unknown, and his techniques were sometimes foreign to the hardened healers of the clans. It would take Olenus a while to warm them to the idea of the wildclaw helping, but usually they did. Others welcomed him with open arms, generous for his help and interested in learning anything new that the wildclaw could teach them. Olenus himself would learn from the others he encountered, updating and utilizing these new techniques in his own repertoire.

He was content with his life, with the traveling and the learning and the drive to do something amazing with all that he had accumulated. It made every day a new adventure, every healthy patient a success. Even those that he lost (which were few and far between) had been a moment to pause and reflect, to see where he could’ve improved or where there was currently no help that could be given. Olenus was absorbed in this life, blind to things such as romance and friendships outside of the healers he had become acquainted with.

That was, until he met Althaea.

It was an odd pair, to say the least. Althaea, with her vanity, had somehow wooed Olenus. To his benefit though, it seemed even Althaea had been pulled from her own reflection to find herself staring at the healer. The two complemented each other as well, with their stark bodies and mesmerizing opals. Olenus fell hard for Althaea, and she too for him. He had been the first to sway the skydancer from her vainness, making her see beauty outside of herself. They were in love, and for the first time Olenus thought perhaps he would not continue his travels, at least not for now. When the two married, he realized that they would be remaining in Clan Embellished for quite some time. It didn’t bother him much, as he had grown accustomed to the dragons there and seemingly had no end of work to do.

When the curse came and ripped through his wife, Olenus finally saw his moment. He had always believed he would do great, and it was what brought him to his knees when the goddess cursed her. He fell to his knees and begged his wife’s curse be split between the two of them, which was obliged.

“Please, please do not curse her.” he had cried. The goddess looked at him, eyes emotionless as he begged. “If you will not, then I ask you to spare her the full extent and curse us both.”

“You wish to split her penance?” the goddess’s voice was ethereal, full of weight and power yet sounding like a bell.

“I do.”

“No, husband-”

“Very well. You will both be cursed to wear your wife’s shame on your body,” the goddess spoke, cutting of Althaea. “It is a pity, skydancer. You do not deserve such a dragon for a mate.” she sighed. Both dragons felt the magic of the curse seeping over their skin, splitting between them. Satisfied, the goddess hushed out of existence, leaving them alone with their growing opals.

“Why did you do that?” Althaea hissed at him, tears streaming down her face as her voice began to crack and squeak under the weight of her gem.

“I’ll find a way to fix this curse, my love,” he had promised her. “I always had a purpose in the world, but now I know what it is.” Althaea had looked away, shame and guilt welling up in her. Olenus continued to assure her they would be okay.

They were barely okay, but Olenus was not willing to let it show. While the curse had stolen his wife’s voice and made it hard for them to move without proper care to their opals, Olenus found that he could not work with the living. He was slowed by the weight of the gems, and some found it unnerving to be near him while he worked. Olenus drifted away from seeing patients and towards working with those after they had died instead. He did not mind this shift, as it gave him more time to study the gems on their bodies in the hopes of finding something to slow their advancement. Althaea would eat the sins of those that were deceased and Olenus would inter them, though not before attempting to see if grafted opals would grow on the dragon before burial. He worked quietly on this, hoping one day that he could cure them both.