Chapter Four

We enter the village without much fanfare, my absence was noticed soon after I left of course, but the assistant did not have the luxury to go look for me. Not that he was particularly inclined to in the first place. The doctor’s absence was known beforehand so that was no shock to anyone either. The corpse of the beast we are carrying draws much more attention, but only from the guards that could see it, and there aren’t all that many. So it is only by the time we reach the center of the village, on our way to the butcher, that the crowd starts gathering. Low murmurs ripple through the people as we make our way over. One brave soul steps forwards.

“Did… did you kill this beast Doctor Barrow?” he asks, cautiously.

But she just shakes her head, and though her hands are occupied, she still vaguely kicks in my direction.

“The boy did, rather gruesomely as well,” she explains.

I could have done without that extra bit of information tagged on, the shock has faded enough that I recognize the necessity of my actions, but I loathe that I had to do it. Even if its death was needed, I just wish I could have killed it more cleanly, without the suffering. But I doubt these people would care too much about my emotional struggles with killing, they seem like hardy folk. You’d have to be to survive as a villager living in a place like this, beautiful forests aside, it can’t be easy.

At least the bear’s death wasn’t in vain, and its meat will nourish those that remain. A very poetic way of saying that meat is pretty delicious and has an important role in a balanced diet. The commotion that we’re making in front of his shop forces the village’s butcher to come out, with his cleaver still in his hand he makes his way through the crowd. His eyes bulge when he notices the sheer size of the corpse. You can see his mind work the numbers, and when he realizes he’ll be able to feed everyone the joy is clear on his face.

“Oh yes, this will do, this will do!” he nearly shouts, “bring all the meat to Tony, I’ll cook up a feast!”

Without a word we unceremoniously dump the corpse on him, the sheer size of his stature allowing him to lift it all. The weight is no issue after all, but at least this way it doesn’t become dirty from the floor. The doctor follows him for a few steps and holds open the door for him. When he’s through she proceeds to kick him.

“Don’t even think about keeping the juicy bits for yourself, this meat is needed for the patients.”

I can’t hear his response after the door falls shut but I have faith that the stubborn old lady has it under control. Now I find myself standing in the middle of a crowd, their eyes aimed at me but I’m not sure what they’re expecting. Then a child enters the circle and tugs on my shirt.

“Tell us about the fight, sir! How did you beat a bear!” he says, eyes filled with delight.

It’s a childish enthusiasm that I can’t help but adore, and though the memories are traumatic I have no other choice but to oblige his curiosity. I’m guided to the village center, rows of benches are placed here for announcements, or when travelers have stories to tell. And though I am no willing traveler, my tale counted. The kids made a circle around me with much ruckus involved, but their parents and the other adults were just as keen to listen. I would do my best to provide.

“Well, normally I would describe to you just how big this beast was!” I begin passionately, “but you’ve already seen how much meat you’re going to eat.”

The rest of the story proceeds without hassle, the thrilling story has everyone on the edge of their seats, both young and old alike. While retelling my harrowing experience I find that it’s that much lighter to think back to, sharing these things is healthy and I feel gratitude welling up to these strangers. When I finish with the storytelling, one little lady walks up to me.

“Wasn’t it scary to jump in?” she says, her eyes shyly dodging my own.

I think for a moment and give her an honest smile.

“It really, really was,” I state confidently. She looks confused. But before she can say a word I continue.

“But when I had to choose between helping the doctor and running away? Well, the fear ran away instead,” my smile doesn’t fade and I pat her head, happy with the lesson I imparted.

Then I stand up and head for the butcher’s, the crowd that naturally formed around me dissipates just as organically, people heading for their daily duties like normal. My story and experience become just another interesting event in their lives. Perhaps the kids will think back to this moment when they have to face their fears. I'd like to think that I helped them.

It doesn’t take long to reach the meat shop and not much more to find my savior, although I suppose we’re even now. The butcher himself is showing his craft as he dismantles the giant animal like it’s nothing, cleanly slicing through muscle and fat alike. It’s mesmerizing to watch. Madam Barrow notices me first.

“Boy, what are you doing back so soon, the meat isn’t ready yet.”

“No ma’am, I’m not here for the meat, I’m sure Tony got it well in hand.”

Tony belly laughs at me, his cheer is infectious and I smile too. Then I remember why I’m here and the joy fades, a grimace on my face replaces it.

“Ma’am, can I talk to you privately for a moment?” I eventually say.

The doctor eyes me up and down, suspiciously.

We’ll use your office,” she states to Tony, who doesn’t seem to mind.

I find myself in a surprisingly neat office, sheets of paper formed in proper stacks dot the desk, luckily there are enough chairs to accommodate us both. I sit down and she picks the chair in front of me. She raises an eye and beckons for me to start talking.

“I’m leaking mana.” I eventually say. Unsure of how to properly convey what I truly want to say.

She rolls her eyes, “Yes I had noticed, so do all the patients in my tent, what is it that you really want to say?”

There is no tact in her.

“What I’m trying to say is that I will run out of mana again, the moment I fall asleep.”

She waves it off.

“You’re barely leaking, and you have enough mana to last for days right now.”

A puzzle piece clicks into place.

“You think I only leak this little drizzle naturally,” I state. She raises an eye.

“Am I wrong?” she questions.

“If I wasn’t terrified that I’ll run out again I would show you for dramatic effect. Sadly my mana reserves are too vital to blow on that,” I take a deep breath, “The leakage you see is just what slips through my conscious control, and that control will vanish the moment I pass out, the rest of my mana will evaporate in seconds after.”

Even back when I was fully charged right after my transfer, it only lasted about an hour. My current reserves are a fraction of that, and will also only last a fraction of that time.

She narrows her eyes at my statement.

“You claim to be consciously controlling all your mana? To prevent it rushing out?” she scoffs, “That’s an impossible feat, and even if you leaked mana like crazy you’d still generate enough to offset the majority of the damages.”

It’s now my turn to be confused, since when do humans generate mana? And I state as much to her.

“Since before we are born, when the soul latches onto the unborn baby, they start creating mana. We don’t know exactly where it comes from, but our predominant theory is that it’s the soul itself,” she raises an eye, “This is all elementary, every budding mage knows this, and plenty of non-mages.”

That’s the last nail in the coffin, and it sure is one hell of a coffin. This is not my world. I had my suspicions after the first language barrier, they deepened when I realized how impossibly mana-barren this place is, but now this talk of souls making mana? And bodies holding onto it naturally? This simply cannot be the same reality as the one I grew up in. But when I open my mouth to say as much, a second realization comes to me. If this is an entirely different universe, just how in the hell did I get here? It must be related to that eye, a disturbing and possibly demonic eye, in the basement of some castle not far from here. I would be suicidal to proclaim my otherworldliness to any native. Thinking faster than I ever have before, I reach a conclusion.

“Yes, well, I’ve stopped doing that I’m afraid. Just a day or so ago, I was casually walking through the woods when I suddenly started losing mana to my surroundings, and I’m not replenishing any of it. You saw what happened after I collapsed in front of the gates. It wasn’t pretty and it wasn’t your casual mana overuse.”

Her eyes sharpen, and I struggle to believe I convinced her. Luckily she doesn’t seem inclined to dig deeper and just leaves me to my lies.

“You’ll need an artifact to do that for you then,” she simply says.

“A what?” I dumbly answer.

The doctor lets out a big sigh.

“An artifact, an object that can use rudimentary magic through the power of magical engineering. Don’t tell me your little accident gave you memory loss as well? This is all basic knowledge you know?”

“I should have gone with amnesia,” I mutter quietly.

“What was that?” she says.

“It’s nothing, the point is that I have no idea how I could get such an artifact,” and I doubt she would just have one handy for that exact purpose. She sighs again, however.

“Follow me.”

We walk back into the butcher’s workroom, Tony is making quick work of his quarry. It seems we’ll have a feast tonight. Then we head out into the open air, and in silence, we travel back towards the tent. Twice I try to make conversation along the way, twice she ignores me. The medical area is set up a fair distance away from the houses of the village, at first I believed it was for quarantine reasons, but the doctor had no trouble visiting the village proper, now that we walk towards it, however, I realize the real motivation. A scream cuts through the air and the doctor grimaces, then finally talks to me again.

“It’s not a pleasant feeling to lose your mana, and sometimes it gives sharp pains throughout your body. They can’t help themselves but scream out like this.”

Quietly I nod, losing any appetite for talking after this bit of awful information. The closer we get to the impromptu hospital, the more groans are audible. Not a pleasant background noise. But we soon find ourselves entering the tent itself. The young man serving as the doctor’s assistant is on us in a second.

“Oh doctor, I’ve never been more glad to see you. They’re getting worse and I don’t know what to do,” he proclaims anxiously.

His savior responds with the good news.

“We’ve found a solution, although I don’t know if it will heal them, it should replenish them and allow us to heal them properly,” she says.

A quick recounting of the bear story later and he collapses into the nearby chair, fatigue claiming another victim. Poor man, I still haven’t learned his name.

“Get up Viktor, our work isn’t done yet. We need to keep them stable until dinner, and make sure they eat enough now so that the meat won’t overwhelm them.”

Well, that is one question answered. Viktor gets back to work after a quick “Yes ma’am!” I follow the doctor to a section of the massive tent that’s cordoned off for her supplies. As she ruffles through her bags I wonder what to expect. Would she magically have the exact artifact I need to stabilize my mana reserves? That sounds too good to be true, which usually means it is. Luckily I don’t need to wonder for long. I do need to dodge the object flying toward me, but my exhausted mind and body can’t react quickly enough. The necklace hits me square on the forehead. I get no apology from the doctor, the very same person that just assaulted me.

“Put that on,” she simply says. Offering not a hint of remorse.

Subdued I do as she says. The effect is not quite what I expected, it certainly doesn’t contain my mana. Instead it just… moves it. A circular motion that draws in most of the mana inhabiting my body.

“It’s a training tool,” is the curt explanation I get. I offer an unamused look back to her.

“No need to be bitter, of course, I wouldn’t have something that suits your needs perfectly.”

As if I expected something that good, only a very small amount of me had that particular hope.

“I didn’t get my hopes up,” I lie, “I’m just wondering what exactly this is.”

The lady has the gall to sigh as if disappointed with me.

“As I said, it’s a training tool. We attach it to children,” she emphasizes the children part, “to help them feel their mana. It’s also the first test we usually administer, how long does it take them to sense it, or for the more advanced test, how long until they can continue the motion after we take it off.”

That’s… actually pretty clever I’ll admit. Still no need to compare me with a kid, I have no issues sensing, nor moving, my mana. I just have issues keeping it around. Something that this tool was not designed to do, but when I slowly lower my containment I’m happy to see that it alleviates the problem. It's still a proper river compared to the drizzle when I maintain the stoppage myself, but it isn’t the tsunami of mana that it was before.

The doctor grimaces. “You weren’t lying when you said you were keeping it back, you’re radiating that stuff like crazy.”

Of course, I wasn’t lying! What sort of idiot would lie about their health and capabilities like that! But she just waves me off.

“Amuse yourself until dinner time, I have patients to support.”

And what else can I do when she promptly leaves me alone. Walking outside the tent I try hard to think of something I can do. Then I step back into the tent. The doctor looks at me with an irritated face.

“Go, be off, someone will find you when it is time for dinner.”

I maintain eye contact and try to project confidence.

“Let me help.”

When I leave the tent again, the sun is setting once more. I chuckle at the difference between this sunset and the one I saw while traversing the forest. From an unwilling traveler to a volunteer doctor. Or at least an assistant to a real one. The old lady didn’t reject my offer and continued to work me to the bone afterward. I wiped so much sweat off of people’s bodies, I feel like you could fill a well with the water and season dinner with the leftover salt. Dinner that I’m looking forward to all the more now, I limited my mana depletion as best as I could, but it’s harder to multitask, without the necklace supporting my efforts I would have been forced to quit, simply to preserve my health.

Instead, I managed to help others with their health, and I’ll admit I liked it. Not that I am going to be a doctor myself now, but I didn’t regret putting my time into this. While I was working I felt like a real part of this world, it certainly gave my life more meaning than university ever did. Viktor, who I am now on quite good terms with, follows me out into the open air. The doctor is still working away with no regard for breaks or pauses, but we got tasked with bringing dinner over, and that’s a task I am eager to fulfill.

Tony greets us enthusiastically and wastes no time in getting the meat on our cart. He then follows us back to our tent, intent on helping with the preparations.

“Let Tony here show you how to cook real meat,” he says full of confidence. Viktor scoffs at his good intentions.

“You just want to eat with us,” he reveals. Tony blushes but defends himself.

“I prepared all the meat for cooking!” he sputters, “I deserve a little taste myself.” Viktor looks at him.

“We’re feeding the patients first,” he states.

“Good thing I’m a patient myself then,” I happily cut in. Viktor just scoffs again. We’re on such good terms.

The bickering continues until we reach the ground in front of the tent. Firewood was brought over while Viktor and I were working, and some kind soul even dug out a makeshift campfire pit. With the meat already cut, we went to work on creating a fire, Tony getting his utensils out and building a contraption to hang the pots and place the pans on.

Soon enough we have a roaring fire and the delicious smell of mana-infused, well seasoned, and juicy meat fills the air. Even as we go to help feed the patients, Tony is hard at work setting aside a portion for himself. I have no real knowledge of meat, but I’m willing to bet the butcher is choosing the good bits. So I’m pleasantly surprised that when the patients are all served, I am handed an extra big portion by Tony, his face wearing a huge grin.

The doctor and Viktor join us as we sit by the fire. The darkness of the night surrounded us, the flames protecting us from the chill. The doctor turns to me.

“Thank you for your help boy,” I struggle to believe my ears. Hard to believe that the old lady thanked me.

“Would you stop calling me ‘boy’ old lady? I do have a name you know?” I respond to her. She raises an eye at that.

“And here I thought you lost that alongside your common sense,” she bites back. I just cannot win against this damn doctor.

“My name is Samual Herit, but you can call me Sam,” I tell her. She turns to face the fire again and for a moment I think that she didn’t hear me. Then she speaks up.

“Thank you, Sam.”