IC 1359: The Hero's Tragedy

Saraka finally told Raruba: "It will take a few days for your wounds to close up..."
Raruba interjected, "And then I'll be OK?"
Saraka explicated: "A few days, at least... It might take longer... And that's just to stabilize... So that you won't die... As for your muscle fibers... Unfortunately... They've been badly damaged... It's possible that you have a broken bone..."
With a sinking feeling, Raruba asked, "How bad is it?"
Saraka said, trying to keep calm: "You'll need to lie down for a while... At least one month of bed rest... For everything to heal... Or, to heal as much as possible, rather... After that, we can test things, and try rehabilitation... But..."
Raruba said, "But, what?"
Saraka frowned. Finally Saraka told Raruba: "You may never be able to walk again."
Raruba fell silent.

Raruba had always been weak. He was born sickly. He wasn't expected to survive infancy. That's why he was given the nickname of Raruba, which in his native language, meant something like "ghost".
Raruba had worked hard in order to overcome the prejudice of other people. That he was just a weakling.
He had wanted to be a hero. And he had worked hard for it.
As an adolescent, he wanted to become stronger. And as he entered adulthood, he had worked hard in order to improve his physique.
He trained endlessly, day by day. To improve his strength, musculature, posture... He wanted to prove to everyone that he was something more.
He trained with the knights in order to demonstrate that he could become something more. To prove them wrong.
And so, he would fight. And he would either prove victorious, and return home a hero... Or he would die gloriously on the battlefield somewhere.
That is what he had planned. That is what would justify everything. All of the sacrifices he had made. All of the hardships. Everything.
And now...
He was faced with the prospect of living the rest of his life as an invalid.
This was not the glorious end that he had imagined. But to be left abandoned on some forgotten island. Or else to return home a cripple.

"Never walk again?" Raruba questioned.
"Well, give it a month and we'll see..." advised Saraka.
"No, I can't--" Raruba denied. "It wasn't supposed to end like this!"
Saraka felt saddened, but there was nothing else she could do.
Raruba said, "Aren't demons... Aren't you supposed to know magic?"
Ariadne sighed. "Magic is a craft, not a miracle," explained the elder. "Anything else is the domain of the gods."
"Isn't there a faster way?" Raruba insisted.
Ariadne replied, "This is the fastest way. You need to work on resting, and then we'll see if anything else can be done."
Raruba said, "There has to be another way."
Ariadne replied, firmly, "There is no other way."
Saraka interjected, cryptically, "Mother, what about--"
"No," Ariadne answered her. "It's too dangerous." She pulled Saraka aside. Ariadne reminded her daughter, "Nobody has ever survived an encounter with the Maiden."
Raruba was unaware of what they had been discussing. Raruba said manically, "I'm feeling better already." Raruba proclaimed, "I'll stand up right now! I'll show you!" As he attempted to prop himself up.
"Stop it!" Saraka cried out. "If you try standing up right now, you'll break another bone!" Saraka forced the resistant young man to lie down again.
"Settle down, boy," insisted Ariadne.
"I can't believe it..." Raruba said. "You expect me to lie in bed for a whole month... And I might not even recover?"
Amuni protested, "We can't afford to take care of someone for a whole month. Saraka, you can't handle another mouth to feed. We should just kill him now!"
Saraka said in turn, "No! That's not the way! That's not what Father taught us!"
Amuni replied, "And that's why he got killed!"
Silence fell in the room.
Saraka quietly started crying.