Erik Cendal was schocked to admit to himself one day that he did not love her.

She was a beautiful woman, in his opinion. She had round, soft brown eyes, a radiant smile, gentle curves, and a cascade of brown hair that fell halfway down her back. Whenever she was in his presence, his heart couldn't help but beat just a tiny bit faster. As far as Erik had been concerned, he was in love.

Until now.

She was on his mind while he ate breakfast that morning, occupying his thoughts while he donned the white robe of a Healer. As he stepped out of his wood cabin into the morning sunlight, he scanned the length of the village's dirt road for her. She was nowhere in sight. Disappointed and relieved at the same time, he began walking down the dusty trail to his first patient's home.

The cabin was nice enough, Erik thought: well-cleaned, fresh-smelling, and wonderfully furnished. Portraits of the family decorated the walls; a sturdy oak table covered with a blue-and-white checkerboard cloth stood in the dining area; a propane torch and a blue, leather-bound book sat on a rocking chair in the corner of the room. The kitchen and cleaning area were neatly arranged with a mop leaning against the wall, a washbowl, and a row of tin water buckets, one of which contained a washboard. This was a neat family, a clean family. The only thing the house lacked was sound and life. Excepting the occasional cough of a small child coming from an adjacent bedroom, the house was dead as a coffin. This was the reason Erik had come. He only hesitated in the main quarters for a few moments before proceeding to the source of the coughing.

The young boy's mother sat on a stool beside his bed, keeping a silent vigil over her unhealthy son. She was wearing a plain, sleeveless light blue dress; her hair was tied up in a bun atop her head. As soon as Erik stepped into the room, she turned and her face was effused with hope.

“Healer Cendal!” she exclaimed, rising from the stool and rushing across the room. “We were so scared this past night. My son broke out into a fit of violent coughing and collapsed at suppertime; he was in so much pain we had to carry him to bed. I've tried feeding him, but he cannot keep the food down. He has fallen so ill that he barely has the energy to cough. Oh, help us, Healer Cendal, please cure my son!” she pleaded, grasping Erik's arm with both hands.

Looking down at her, Erik could see the lines of dried tears on the mother's face. He laid a hand on her shoulder and said gently, “Do not fear, Mother. Your son shall be well shortly.” With that, he walked over to the boy's bed and knelt beside him.

Closing his eyes, Erik began the Healing. A sharp pain immediately pierced through him as his soul came into contact with the boy's. He gritted his teeth against the agony. Clear your mind, the ingrained phrase whispered to him. You must absorb the pain, welcome it, travel through it. Only by experiencing the pain can you conquer it. Opening himself to the boy's suffering, Erik slowly took the child's affliction and brought it upon himself. He was a Healer; he could conquer the pain. He could vanquish it. He had been trained.

Nevertheless, fighting the dark tide of the boy's illness was an uphill battle. Wading through a river of pain, Erik steadily dispersed the blackness, losing ground at first but then pushing back the current. He had nearly eliminated the darkness when, suddenly, he faltered; she was nearby. As his thoughts fled to soft brown eyes, gentle curves, and flowing hair, the boy's pain surged against him. He screamed mentally, his concentration pinned between two different objects. The pain slammed into him, seeped into the cracks of his soul. This was not experiencing pain; this was suffering it. You must recognize the pain and stay in control of its passing, his Healer dogma drifted to him. You must expect it and experience it willingly. Pain is a weak foe without the element of surprise. Drawing on these words, Erik retaliated against the darkness with every ounce of his strength. The black mist vanished, and the Healing was finished.

Erik snapped out of the Healing trance with a jolt. Beads of sweat ran down his face, soaking the collar of his white robe. Shaking profusely, he attempted to stand and fell down. Though he had Healed the boy, some of the child's illness had gotten into him. He felt weak and utterly exhausted.

The boy's mother, upon seeing Erik collapse to the floor, quickly knelt in front of him and asked, “What is wrong, Healer Cendal? Are you not well?”

Sitting up, Erik feebly waved her away. “The Healing was more difficult than I had expected. In a few more minutes, I should be able to stand.” Then, as an afterthought, “Thank you for your sympathy.”

But the mother still looked worried. “And my son?”

“Cured and in good health.”

“Oh, thank you, Healer Cendal!” the mother cried, giving Erik a hug. “I am so glad that there is a person like you in our village.”

Erik had to smile at the woman's appreciation, though her hug did take the wind out of him. “Pleased to be of service,” he said.

The mother released him from her hug, stood up, and walked over to her son's bedside. Erik was left sitting on the floor, gathering his strength and wondering just what went wrong with the Healing. The child had been sick, but surely not enough to drain him as much as…

Suddenly, he remembered. It was her again! He looked carefully around the room and there, standing in the doorway to the boy's bedroom, was the woman who had been occupying his thoughts for the past year, the woman he both loved and hated at the same time: Stephanie Massanar.

Erik's heart jumped a beat; he silently reprimanded himself. The distraction she had provided nearly killed him, even if it wasn't entirely her fault.

“Good morning, Erik,” Stephanie said from the doorway, her face set.

“Good morning, Miss Massanar,” Erik returned from his seated position.

Stephanie frowned. Apparently she didn't like being addressed as “Miss Massanar”, especially by Erik. “I think we need to talk.”

Erik shrugged. “Okay,” he said, rising to his feet. He felt a little dizzy when he stood up, but it quickly passed. A mild headache was all that remained of the Healing ordeal.

The two left the cabin and began to walk down the dirt road. They had only traveled a few steps when Stephanie turned to Erik and asked accusingly, “Why have you been avoiding me recently?”

Erik looked down at the ground, then straight ahead. “I think you know the answer to that.”

“And what's that supposed to mean?”

Erik was silent for a moment. Then, “For one thing, you haven't quite been straightforward with me recently.”

Stephanie's eyebrows lowered. “Straightforward? Erik, I have no idea what you're talking about.”

“Does the name Patrick Junstred ring a bell?”

“Pat? He's a friend of mine. We hang out together sometimes. I don't see…”

“Sometimes?” Erik raised an eyebrow. “Seems to me you've been spending more and more time with him and less with me. Well, I can take a hint: I might as well beat it. Not that you'd really care; you've already made it quite clear how you feel about me.”

Stephanie looked stunned. “You're still bitter about that? I told you, we're just friends, no more. I can't see you in the same way that you see me.”

Erik stopped and turned to face her. “Exactly. I loved you, and you spit in my face. Now maybe to you that's…”

“I didn't spit in your face!”

“…not a big deal, but it really hurt me. I would have given anything up for you. Anything. But no, I wasn't good enough for you, was I? So you're just going to keep me tied to your little finger, pretending to care about me, while all the while I'm suffering because our relationship is a lie.”

Stephanie was thunderstruck. “How could you say such things about me? I was so nice to you…”

“Yeah, when I behaved in a manner pleasing to you,” Erik responded. “But as soon as I criticized you, even in the least bit, you gave me a big guilt trip about it. Well, I'm sick of having the puppeteer pull my strings. I'm sick of feeling like my life is at your mercy. I've got a job to do; sick people are counting on me to Heal them. The last thing I need is for someone else to own my life. Goodbye, Stephanie.”

With that, Erik walked off down the road on his own, leaving Stephanie alone, puzzled, and more than a little angry.

They didn't talk to each other for weeks after their argument. Erik hardly noticed; he had plenty of Healing to do. Still, as he lay awake in bed at night, waiting for sleep, he couldn't help but notice the irony of his situation: he was expected to Heal everyone in the village, face countless illnesses, and yet he couldn't even reconcile differences he had with one woman. Throw a plague at me, Erik thought, and I'll feel in more control than I do with Stephanie.

The days went by; merchant carts came and went; the corn and grain grew tall on the farmland. Erik noticed a cooling in the air as autumn approached. Soon it would be time for the harvest.

Walking home one day after Healing a little girl with a burning fever, Erik turned to look out at the wheat fields. He felt surprisingly calm, more at peace with himself than he had in a long time. Nevertheless, something nagged at him. He couldn't place what it was, but needless to say it spoiled an otherwise perfect day. The sky glowed a deep crimson as the sun drifted beyond the mountains. Looking at the tall rows of wheat, Erik couldn't help but mentally count down the days to harvest. As he did so, he thought he saw a dark shape glide between the crops.

Erik blinked. What was that? It had moved too fast to be human. But what else would be out in the fields at this…

Suddenly, he realized what it was. A hopper. Fearfully, he scanned the fields for any farmers that might be admiring their wheat, giving it careful scrutiny before harvest. Although he didn't see anyone, that didn't say much; the wheat had grown taller than most men by now. Building up his courage, he dashed toward the fields, yelling, “Hopper! There's a hopper in the fields! Get out. Now!”

Before he reached the massize halls of wheat, an old man in tough gray overalls and long white beard ambled out of the crop structure. “Did you say there's a hopper in the fields?” he asked curiously, hand held to his ear.

“Yes, yes!” Erik exclaimed, waving the old man away with frantic motions of his arms. “Get away from here!” Then a thought came to him. “Do you know if there's anyone else out there in the wheat?” he asked, slowing down his stride.

The old farmer rubbed his beard. “Well, none that I know of…'cept for that young lady that went in several minutes ago.”

“Young lady?” Erik frowned. “What did she look like?”

“Oh, about as tall as I am, long brown hair…” the farmer shrugged. “I didn't get a good look at her; I just know that she went in.”

Erik nodded. “Thank you, sir.” With that, he turned toward the wheat fields.

“Wait a minute, Healer,” the farmer called, holding up a protesting hand. “Didn't you say that there was a hopper in there?”

“Yes.”

“Then why are you heading straight toward it?”

Erik turned his head to look at the old man. “There is someone in danger. I must help her.” Without another word, he plunged into the tall rows of wheat.

The old farmer shook his head, placed his hands in his overall pockets and muttered to himself, “Ah, the impetuousness of youth.” Still shaking his head, he turned and headed back to his cabin.

Crouched over, moving as fast as he could without attracting the hopper's attention, Erik hurried through the wheat field. By now the sun had set and twilight was spreading its dark fingers across the sky. Although he had been searching the field for some time now, he had found no one. Perhaps the woman had heard him after all and left…

Turning a corner, he slammed right into her. Giving a short cry, Erik recoiled backwards, afraid he had slammed into one of the reptilian hoppers. Once he found out who it was, though, he almost wished it had been a hopper.

Before him crouched none other than Stephanie Massanar. Her eyes widened with surprise and anger when she recognized Erik.

“What are you doing here?” she snapped.

Erik gave a curt laugh. “I was about to ask you the same question.”

Stephanie stood up. “If you must know, I just decided to go on a walk.”

“A walk, eh?” Erik scoffed. “Pretty odd place to just 'go on a walk.'”

Stephanie's eyes narrowed as she regarded him. “Why are you so bitter toward me all of a sudden?”

“Who's bitter? You've found your Mister Right; you're happy, and I don't have to worry about pleasing you anymore. In fact, I've felt better recently than I have in a long time.”

“Then I guess it will please you to know that 'Mister Right' and I have had a bit of a falling out.”

Now that news startled him. “No, I'm not happy to hear that.”

“Oh, sure you aren't!” Stephanie said, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “You were so jealous of Patrick and me that you decided to stop talking to me. Every time I saw you walking around town, your eyes were conveniently averted away from me. You avoided me. You shunned me. Why? I was just trying to be your friend!”

A tear ran down Stephanie's face, which she hastily wiped away. “Let's get out of here,” she said in a shaky voice as she rushed past Erik.

Erik was dumbfounded. He followed Stephanie in a haze, replaying what she had said over and over in his mind. Did she really care about him that much? Or was she just too insecure to risk losing another friend? Deep down inside, he was touched, but his mind told him to be cautious. More than likely, their relationship would just fall apart all over again if he accepted her back into his life. But he was a Healer! Shouldn't he, of all poeple, be capable of caring and forgiveness? The internal struggle between his desire for independence and friendship threatened to tear him apart.

Watching Stephanie run, Erik wished he could understand what was going on inside her mind. If only he could get to the truth! However, he worried that the truth would forever be out of his reach.

A moment later, Erik had more immediate problems to worry about.

The hopper chose that moment to strike, propelling itself through the air like a giant frog. It slammed Stephanie to the ground, face-first, pinning her shoulder blades in its foreclaws. The odd reptilian hybrid had a sturdy exoskeleton to protect it; its sharp footclaws and serrated teeth provided powerful offensive weapons. Stephanie screamed as the claws dug into her shoulders and back.

For the rest of his life, Erik would never forget what he did to that hopper. Something inside of him snapped. Reaching out with his soul, he touched the creature's life force with his own. Even as he became aware of the animal's primitive nature and hunger, he lashed out with the full force of his fury. Every evil thought, every feeling of hatred, every moment of anger at Stephanie, he channeled into the beast. Instead of accepting the hopper's pain, he infused it with his own. Erik screamed as he experienced the creature's suffering, felt the power of his onslaught take effect. On that night, Erik Cendal worked a Healing in reverse, a technique known to high-level Healers as an Afflicting.

The hopper exploded, spewing greenish blood and dark-colored organs in all directions. At that instant, Erik lost contact with the creature. The reality of what he had done, coupled with the experience of the hopper's death, brought him to his knees. He covered his face in his hands and wept.

There was only one thing Erik could do to redeem himself. He had to perform a Healing. He had to relieve as much of another's pain as he had caused the creature. Crawling over to Stephanie, he laid his hands on her back and touched her soul. Her pain flowed into him like a refreshing stream. The power of his remorse was so great that Erik accepted the pain gratefully, allowing it to flow over and through him. Stephanie's wounds closed up, slowly at first and then more quickly as Erik Healed her.

Suddenly, the Healing was over. Fatigued and drained, Erik drifted into sleep.

He woke up in his cabin with a terrible headache. Groaning, he turned over in bed—and there was Stephanie, sitting on a stool beside him.

“What are you doing here?” he croaked, realizing that his throat was very dry.

“You saved my life,” she said in a gentle voice.

“Oh, yeah, I guess I did.”

“Why did you do it? I thought you hated me.”

“No, no…” Erik began, and burst into a fit of coughing. Stephanie offered him a cup of water, which he accepted gladly. “Ah, much better,” he said, taking a large chug from the cup.

Clearing his throat, Erik began again, “Stephanie, I didn't really hate you. Mad at you, maybe, but hate, no. But you've got to understand, you caused me a great deal of frustration and jealousy; you refused to return the love I felt for you. You had me in a cage chasing my own tail, hoping for love I could never get from you.”

Stephanie looked worried. “But I did care about you.”

Erik shook his head. “It doesn't matter. You could never love me in the same way I loved you, and so we had problems. We always will have problems. I guess you could say we just weren't meant to be.”

Stephanie began to get on the defensive. “Look, I'm sorry if I didn't turn out to be everything you hoped for in a woman, okay? But I did try to be your friend; you can't blame me for that.”

“No, I can't.” Erik took another sip of water. “The fact of the matter is, though, that even when you were trying your hardest to be a good friend of mine, it didn't work. Now don't get mad,” he said, raising a warning finger, “I'm just pointing out facts. You made me miserable, and there was nothing either one of us could do about it.

"I tried to justify to myself all kinds of reasons why I should be angry at you. I wanted to write you out of my life. Yet, every time I did that, I got an empty feeling inside. I was inventing all kinds of reasons to dislike you, but none of them were really true. The true answer was that we just don't click, period.”

“So that's it, huh?” Stephanie placed her fists on her hips. “You're just going to give up. Well, you may think that a friendship is unsalvageable, but I don't. I'll never stop trying to be your friend. You hear that? Never.”

“Don't you understand?” Erik coughed. “Look, I'm going to be bluntly honest with you: you're the one who's caused me all the emotional turmoil of the past year. I've put so much effort into pleasing you that I completely forgot about pleasing myself. Don't you see? I can't succeed in being myself and satisfying your needs at the same time. That's why I must go.”

“Go?” Stephanie was incredulous. “Go where?”

“Away from here. I'm thinking about taking the next caravan of merchant carts out of town.”

“But what about all your friends? All those people you've come to know over the years?”

Erik shook his head. “Trust me, this'll be worth it. I need some space and time to rediscover myself. I definitely can't get that here.”

“But…”

It was too late. The subject was no longer open for debate.

True to his word, Erik left with the next caravan. He had packed rather lightly, bringing only two hand-sewn bags an arm length long and two hands (splayed side by side) thick. He waved to everyone as he left. Stephanie watched him go until he was nothing more than a speck in the distance.

The next day was the harvest. There was music, merry-making, and more than enough food for everyone. Children danced in the street to the minstrels' lutes; men drank and shared stories; women husked corn and gossiped. Erik Cendal may have been gone, but the harvest was just as enjoyable as the previous year.

Erik wouldn't have had it any other way.