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The first lesson was simple.  "Slap yourself on the face," the old man said.

Lucinda looked at him like he was crazy.

"Slap yourself," he said again.

"Why don't you slap yourself?"

"Because I, like you, passed lesson number one:  don't listen to everything everyone says."

Lucinda stayed with the old man for several days before she learned his name.  Almegnon.  When he'd told her, he seemed to expect a reaction from her--as if he were famous or something, but she'd never heard of him.  He shrugged his disappointment aside.

Soon, Almegnon changed his tactics.  He pulled out a small knife and ran the blade along his thumb, slicing it open.  Blood spilled on the floor.  He held his hand out toward her.  "Heal me," he said.

"I can't!"

"You were able to do great harm back in Cardin."

"What do you know about that?"

"I know about Shen," he said.

Shame flooded through her and poured out through her eyes and down her cheeks.  "I didn't mean to hurt him!  I tried to help, but I couldn't.  I'm sorry.  I can't help people; I can only hurt them."

"Yes, destruction's easy," Almegnon said.  "But it's possible to turn it around.  Watch."

He held out his hand, blood dripping from the wound.  He placed his index finger from his other hand on one end of the cut and ran it along, sealing the flesh.  He turned his hand so she could see there was no sign of an injury.

Lucinda stared in awe.  "How did you do that?"

"Simple concentration.  The body knows how it should be, but it lacks the ability to pull itself together.  All I did was provide the guidance and the extra energy to speed up the natural healing process."

"Can you teach me that?"

Her excitement was contagious.  Almegnon laughed.  "That's what I'm here for."

"Cut yourself again," Lucinda said.

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