94. Ties that Bind - I
I got up from my chair at the expected knock on the door. Yesterday, I had been told, in no uncertain terms, to wait until someone came to get me. Even drained from yesterday's battle and my emergent interventions, I had crashed early enough that I woke up at my normal time. It gave me plenty of time to pick apart the aftermath of yesterday's mess.
[New Level Obtained: Physician Level 6]
[Skill Gained: Sterilize]
The new skill weighed on me. On one hand, I gained power through others' wounds and suffering—the skill made magic far easier. On the other hand, it was linked to one of the pillars of my field: sanitation. However, no matter how ill-begotten my gain, I couldn't see myself giving it up—not that this world gave me a choice. Like the words I had awoken to, the skill had woven itself into my very being. Using it felt as natural as breathing. But the cost…would every major advance come at the expense of others' pain?
Another knock brought me back to the present—a deep voice calling my name. It wasn't Dorian this time, though I recognized the speaker instantly. Rægnor. He had taken over Dorian's typical role this morning because I had a different destination than the mine.
When I opened the door, he stood, waiting, though he had little of his typical, casual ease. I wanted to sigh, but I kept my frustrations to myself. After all, they came from my issues, not his. He was just doing his duty, and I wouldn't disrespect his honor by complaining just because I didn't like the idea of needing a "bodyguard."
"You ready?" he asked.
"As ready as I can be."
I'd finished munching on yesterday's leftovers long ago, but the knot in my stomach wouldn't loosen. This was worse than walking onto the wards on my first day as an intern. I only had vague ideas of what I needed to do, and instead of a helpful resident, I faced a "teacher" ready to find fault no matter what I did.
Rægnor fell into step with me as we walked towards the front gate. Our path took us through the long shadow of the tall cliff face, and the crisp, clean morning air managed to pierce my white coat and the underlying layers. I channeled some Energy into undergarments, pushing [Regulate Temperature] beyond its passive state to ease the bite. The coat responded rapidly, leaving me acutely aware of my uncovered neck and the cold wind still nipping at it. I popped the collar to protect the uncovered skin, not caring one bit about the subtle increase in the Energy drain required to maintain the effect.
I gave the camp a once-over. The dirt path created from countless steps provided the only signs of the mine's entrance. A few people—scratch that, no one—was using it. I had never left my longhouse this early. The camp's typical din was muted, the silence only broken by the occasional bird call and the rustling of the winds through the trees.
I scanned the area once more. I couldn't help but ask, "Do you really think I need protection at this time of day?"
"Just asking shows how little you know of the Volki and how much you need protection. I was thinking you would be better off in a longhouse closer to us. We have room, or we can move your longhouse closer."
"That last one seems…inefficient." Rægnor spoke little, but when he did, his words bore the weight of reflection. Expending that amount of effort to move a house for one person made no sense. It shouldn't be on the table unless…there were obvious risks to staying with the other Ættir. "And yet I feel like that is probably the most palatable for all parties involved."
He just grunted in assent.
"Just so you know. It bothers me that the idea of moving an entire building for one person is on the table."
Rægnor mulled over my concern. "Should we put efficiency before Honor?"
Yes. Honor can't come before everything.
However, I just sighed in response. Now wasn't the time to discuss ethics. While I had some qualms with either choice, it would make protecting me—if I even needed that—and getting water easier. Perhaps I could sell what remained of "my" longhouse to repay the Sæmdarskati for taking over my life debt. That might earn me some favor with the Ættir.
"We can talk about moving some more. Do you think I could come up with a way to reduce tension with the Volki?"
"Doubtful. You caused one to lose dominance in front of his kin. He will not forget that. And when they find out that you were guaranteed protection, you'll likely become an even riper target."
That stopped me in my tracks. "Am I in a worse situation because I have protection?"
He scoffed. "Volki don't nuance revenge. An aggrieved Volk will strike whenever they can find the opportunity. Their hierarchy is built upon dominance."
Wonderful. It did highlight just how different the cultures of this place were. "Just how does it not end up in a huge battle then?"
"It is just a few Volki, not all, that despise you. Volki respect strength. The others won't stoop to assist the weaker one. Even if he could gain support, they know that we would destroy them. However, even that scenario is unlikely. The Alfa has a vested interest in making this expedition work, and his men know that."
I had to take Rægnor's word on it, but I would also keep my head down. This place didn't need another flash point. If something did go down, I had a clear side I'd favor. However, even after all I had seen, I harbored some doubts on the Ættarsk ability to overcome fully armed troops with only pickaxes and shovels. Still, it was the perception that mattered.
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A fragile peace, but right now, that took a back seat to what lay on top of this hill.
Rægnor grew quiet as if sensing my nervous energy. I made a mistake on my visit yesterday when I poked at Esper's hypocrisy. I hadn't grasped the extent to which I had annoyed her until Rægnor told me to be ready to run. I had squandered the unexpected goodwill I had generated by asking forgiveness.
Why do I keep making these mistakes with her? Something about her pushes my buttons. Was it her class? Did I have higher expectations?
I needed to figure it out soon because the healer's lodge looked to be my place of "employment" for the foreseeable future. It may contain those most skilled in the art of healing, but I would have never guessed by the rough, poorly finished logs making up the building's walls. Worse, they contained neither friend nor ally. The time here could be more brutal than the mines. The Vísir might not be able to hurt me directly, but even in the few minutes of watching those two interact, the master-apprentice relationship gave the Vísir a lot of leeway to inflict suffering.
We walked the rest of the way in silence as I pondered different strategies to ingratiate myself with the [Shaman] and her apprentice. However, at least half of those ideas turned out a waste of time when Rægnor knocked on the door.
He nodded at Esper. "Esteemed apprentice, I am here to deliver Daniel to the care of your master for tutelage."
"Thank you for watching over him."
She stood rigid with a blank expression at the door. Rægnor either didn't notice or chose to ignore the dismissal. "I am here to deliver him to your master."
Her eyes narrowed, and her body straightened, radiating an unspoken authority. She had never come off as timid, but in that moment, no one would question seeing her sitting on a throne. "Do you not trust me, brother?"
Her voice held a dangerous edge, but Rægnor doubled down with measured resolve. "I have orders from the Sæmdarskati, and I will see them done."
The hairs on my skin began to rise, but Rægnor remained calm. Still, he couldn't hide the subtle tightening of his jaw and stiffening of his posture. This was worse than two surgeons fighting over who had priority for OR space.
I gambled, channeling Energy into [Doctor's Presence]. "There is no need for this."
I pushed my aura outward to encompass them. Like lifting a heavy weight, it inched away from me, picking up speed as I continued—until I hit a wall. Our auras collided. Where mine wanted to soothe, comfort, and direct, hers wanted to invade and control. Cancerous. Malignant. My skin crawled at the contact. Her aura had a crushing weight that I couldn't resist for long. I flared the skill, which helped at the price of a throbbing head. Just when I should have faltered, a soft, resonant hum rang through me, easing the pressure. Something had buttressed my skill.
My white coat?
Yes. It was helping, but I could almost pick up on something else. A presence? Unfortunately, I didn't have time to examine things further. I prepared for one last push when the weight vanished.
I dropped the skill, and the air around us calmed. I had achieved my goal: a distraction.
Esper cocked her head. "You have an aura?"
"Yes, weak as it is." I narrowed my eyes. Rægnor, unlike Esper, had shown no hint of surprise. I addressed him, "You knew that already."
It wasn't a question.
He smirked. "Of course, you used it quite frequently while healing the wounded yesterday. It just further shows the wisdom in the Sæmdarskati's actions."
Had I really been using it that often?
I searched my memories, but only the actual act of healing came back with any clarity. Everything else—the battle, the people near, even the accessory skills—remained a blur.
Still, it made sense. People near me were far too calm and far too willing to follow orders without question, even when they may have viewed the acts as barbaric. I must have liberally applied an aura to get what I needed, but I should have noticed using one. Enveloping Esper and Rægnor in my aura had a noticeable cost.
Maybe auras don't require as much energy when acting unopposed?
They'd better. I couldn't be out of commission after one emergency. Sure, recently, I had enjoyed a leisurely hour per consult for my neuro consults, but back in the day, I could handle four to five level-1 traumas during a shift. Yesterday was a mess, but this was a mine with monsters. Trauma would be the norm. I needed people okay with my methods…
Oh, no.
Had I used the skill on my patients? A man with a pneumothorax had sat calmly, letting me perform an invasive procedure without anesthesia. I had attributed it to his skill and injuries, but...I swallowed the bile rising in my throat. Had I crossed an ethical line? Hadn't I also told others to get help?
Esper scoffed, "It is still weak."
Her words shook me from my thoughts, but I caught enough of it to pick up on the disdain. A night had diminished some of her raw anger, but some remained.
Great—I'd undoubtedly alienated my one possible ally.
Rægnor was having none of it. "He has an aura, and he's Tier II. That is enough to warrant—"
"The fact that he is in the second Tier is exactly why he will be working with me and not my Master." Before Rægnor could object, she silenced him with a look and flare of power that I had no hope of beating back. "Take care with your next words, brother. My Master's skill has better uses than teaching someone at his tier. I am more than capable of training a [Healer] of his level. In some ways, I am better suited. He will need to learn potions and poultices, and my Master would never deign to sully herself with such things."
If it wouldn't tank any of developing a working relationship with her, I would have let out a low whistle at the sheer malice she packed into that last statement. As rocky as things were between us, her relationship with her master had to be pure poison.
She gave Rægnor a challenging stare. "This arrangement should meet our leader's requirement…unless you doubt my skill."
"You know that we don't."
Rægnor had some steel in his voice, but much of the resolve had diminished. [Healers] held a special place in their culture, and one did not piss one off without good reason. He had to be skating on the edge of impinging on her honor.
I kept my mouth shut. I had already caused enough trouble by not swallowing my annoyance yesterday. Rægnor already had enough complications in the balance between his duty and her honor.
Seconds ticked by, and Rægnor didn't add a "but," and Esper took that as agreement. "Then it is settled. He will become my apprentice."
Rægnor nodded, and once again, we continued the norm of deciding my future without any input from me.
Esper shifted her gaze to me. "There is only one other thing we need to discuss. He will need to leave the camp to gather herbs and other materials. Will you be joining him?"
That didn't catch Rægnor off guard. "No. We will watch him in here, but I am needed in the mines. You have dominion over his tutelage in that regard."
Her eyes widened slightly. "Tutelage? How much respect has he earned that he would be treated as such?"
"Enough."
My eyes couldn't help but drift to the huge logs making up the wall and the towering trees behind them. Horrors existed beyond those woods. Did they rival—exceed?—those in the mines?
The skin on the back of my neck crawled.
Calm down, Daniel. You're safe.
"Daniel," Rægnor brought me back to conversation. "You are now in her care. She will see you back to the mine when you are done. She is more than capable of watching over you both here and in the Wilds."
He nodded to Esper and, without another word, left. She looked me up and down, expression unreadable, but colder than before. If anything had impressed her earlier, she no longer saw it.