Dawn filtered through the clinic shutters, illuminating a quiet line of settlers waiting for Vella's soothing hands.
The ancient spirit moved gracefully between the cots, pressing cool herbal poultices to feverish toddlers and dressing bruised miner knuckles.
Whenever a grateful mother bowed with tearful thanks, the spirit's violet hair twitched slightly with shy, unaccustomed gratitude.
"The fever is already breaking, little mother," she reassured a young woman whose infant slept peacefully upon a clean blanket. "A few drops of willow bark tea before evening will draw out the remaining heat."
"You saved three of our neighbors this week, Lady Vella."
"No healer under my lord's roof asks a starving mother for coin," the spirit answered gently, patting the woman's arm with genuine affection. "Rest easy now, little mother."
"Vella, how are things holding up?"
