The Gate Traveler

Driving down the mountain, I thought about what still needed doing. First stop, visiting the Gate, refill mana and practice the two spells I'd bought.

What else?

More ability points. I spent all the points I earned. At this rate, I'd need at least another twenty, maybe even more.

Now that the life insurance has cleared, maybe it's time to buy what I'll need for the journey?

A broken motorcycle lay on its side, smoke rising into the air. Adrenaline jolted me out of my thoughts. I veered over, the car jerking to a stop on the shoulder. Without a second thought, I leaped out, the car door swinging wide behind me as I jogged toward the wreck. I scanned the area for the rider, noticing the motorcycle pieces spread on the road and the skid marks. My eyes followed the trajectory, focusing on the place where the bike had slammed into the guardrail, leaving scars on the metal.

But where was the rider?

Looking for any sign of movement, I thoroughly examined the area. Just beyond the guardrail, a path of broken branches and torn leaves pointed downward. Fumbling for my phone, I dialed emergency services, my eyes locked on the path through the brush. As soon as the dispatcher confirmed help was on the way, I shoved the phone back into my pocket and looked down, following the trajectory of the broken branches. How long would it take them to get here? I checked my watch again and again, urgency rising. After ten minutes, I couldn't wait anymore. My hands gripped the guardrail, and I swung my legs over it.

Sliding down, branches scratched my arms, and I almost fell a couple of times. The sharp smell of blood reached me before he came into view. There he was. A broken figure wedged between a boulder and a tree, blood pooling beneath him, spreading fast and getting absorbed by the earth. No helmet. That was bad. I knelt beside him and pressed my fingers to his neck. The pulse was barely there, a slow beat that matched his shallow breathing. His skin was ice cold. I couldn't waste a second; this guy was fading fast.

First aid wouldn't be enough, not with how quickly life drained from him. My training ran through my mind instantly: bandages, CPR, pressure points. None of it would stop the bleeding in time, and there wasn't a defibrillator in sight. My mind leaped to magic. Minor Heal? I pressed both hands to his chest and cast the spell. The mana flowed from me into him, and at first, I thought it was working. A cut on his forehead closed, the skin knitting together like it was never there. But that was it. His pulse didn't strengthen. His breathing didn't improve. The blood beneath him kept spreading.

"Come on," I said, my voice cracking with frustration.

The spell wasn't enough. It wasn't meant for injuries like this. With a clenched jaw, I shoved my frustration aside. I needed to see the damage. To understand what was happening inside his body, like I had done with my muscles before. With closed eyes, I steadied my breath, focused, and reached out with my intent to sense beyond what my eyes could see. Nothing. It was frustrating, but I had no intention of giving up. Magic follows intent—that much I figured out already.

I focused, poured my mana into him, and willed it to help me see. The mana spread through his body and I could follow its progress. I focused harder, forcing my mind to narrow down until the damage started showing itself, piece by piece. Fractures, ruptured organs, a brain bleed, and a pulse so faint it was barely there. This guy had ten minutes, maybe less.

Something popped into my vision.

Not now.

I dismissed it with a wave of my hand and refocused on the injured man before me. Every second counted. The faint pulse of his carotid artery showed just how close he was to going into the light. My mind quickly cataloged the most critical injuries I could feel: a severe intracranial bleed and a fractured cervical spine. He shouldn't have even been breathing. This was a race against time.

I zeroed in on the brain bleed. Hemorrhagic pressure would build, squeeze delicate neural tissue, and cut off vital pathways. I visualized the brain's anatomy, including the vessels and veins, and poured mana into his head, directing it to the bleeding part, and willed the bleeding to stop. The magic resisted, like it had a will of its own, trying to slip away and disperse. I didn't let it. This was life or death, and there was no room for rebellion. I pushed back with a growl, clamping down on my mana, and felt it struggle under the strain like a bucking bull. The bleeding slowed and stopped.

Again, something popped into my field of vision.

Not now.

Mana: 580/3000.

My heart sank when I saw how low my mana was. I couldn't waste it. This guy's life depended on it. First things first—the broken neck. My fingers brushed over the damaged vertebrae, visualizing the precise alignment needed to restore stability and prevent further damage. Gently, I coaxed the bone fragments back together in my mind, picturing the cells knitting themselves back together. The mana again tried to escape my control, but this time with less determination. Not like a bucking bull but a stubborn donkey. With the previous experience, it was easier to take control of it and make it bend to my demands. I felt a subtle shift, a faint but solid click. Good. At least that was done.

Mana: 530/3000. So far, so good.

The brain was still at risk. The bleeding may have stopped, but the pressure remained, pushing against the delicate tissue. The cerebral matter couldn't hold out long under that strain. I focused and ordered the surrounding tissues to absorb the blood. It took a few seconds, but the blood volume decreased slightly. The tissues swelled, unable to hold it all. Any more, and they would rupture.

"Come on, come on," I said out loud, my tension rising by the second.

Calm down. Think, I told myself. My mind raced. What to do? What to do!?

I got an idea and hoped it would work. I cast Mana Dart, but as soon as the spell formed, it shot off, hit a tree, and showered me with leaves. I gritted my teeth. Focus. I tried again, casting the spell while mentally and physically clamping down on it. The energy pulsed in my hand, straining to fly away, like holding back a buzzing laser fragment. I tightened my grip and directed more mana into the dart, forcing it to remain in place, feeling the resistance in every tremor. Slowly, I molded it with my will like a sculptor working with clay. The tip extended and narrowed into a thinner, sharper edge. Every bit of focus went into refining that tip, making it as sharp as possible. Finally, when it was the sharpest I could manage without losing control, I carefully aligned the tip to his head, pressed it to his skin, and punctured his skull. Mentally, I latched onto the mana in the blood pressing against his brain and coaxed it toward the opening, guiding it out. The mana listened to me more now. There was still resistance, but it was weaker, and only for a second. Drop by drop, the blood drained, relieving the pressure. I didn't dare to breathe, afraid that I might lose control from the unnecessary motion. The last of the blood drained. As soon as all the blood was out, I channeled more mana and willed the small wound to close, weaving the tissue back together. There was almost no resistance.

Another pop up jumped in front of my eyes. I mentally swiped it away.

Mana: 350/3000.

My insides felt drained like every drop of mana was hollowing me out from the inside. I was also dizzy, my hands shook, and yellow spots appeared in front of my eyes. With a deep breath, I focused on one last burst of mana. Placing my palms on his head, I concentrated on the general idea of healing, not targeting anything specific, but sending out a general force to stabilize him and push his body in the right direction. The last bit of mana left me, and I swayed. My vision blurred. Black and yellow spots danced in my field of vision, and the surroundings became smeared. The world tilted on its axis. A heavy wave of exhaustion passed through me, and I dropped forward, hitting my forehead on the boulder. I breathed deeply and slowly, and breath by breath, returned to reality. The spinning in my head got better, and the spots in front of my eyes partially cleared.

Mana: 50/3000.

Another pop-up flashed in my vision. I shut my eyes, barely mustering the energy to think. Go away.

Out of mana, I switched to normal first aid. My fingers went to his neck, feeling for any misalignment that might still pose a risk, and I gently adjusted his head to keep his airway clear. His breaths were shallow but steady, and his pulse improved. Next, I moved to his limbs, assessing each one with careful pressure to pinpoint fractures or breaks. His left arm was bent at an unnatural angle. Gripping it firmly, I secured it against his side and fashioned a makeshift sling from the strips of fabric torn from my shirt to prevent further injury. Next, I worked on his leg, finding swelling around the knee. Dislocated. I braced myself, then pulled it into alignment with a quick motion, securing it as best as possible with a broken arrow and strips of fabric. It wasn't perfect, but it would hold until help arrived. The other leg had an open farcture that I didn't dare touching. Finally, I tore off a piece of clean cloth and pressed it to his abdomen, applying gentle pressure to slow the bleeding. With his injuries stabilized as much as possible, I kept my fingers on his pulse, counting each beat and willing him to hold on.

The distant wail of sirens grew louder, cutting through my tension. I pulled my phone from my pocket and redialed the police station. As soon as the line connected, I spoke quickly, keeping my voice calm but urgent. "This is the caller from the motorcycle accident. I'm with the rider, down the slope off the road. I'm a doctor. He's in critical condition but stable for now. Let the responders know where to find us."

In moments, red and blue lights flashed through the trees above, and two paramedics climbed over the guardrail, hurrying down to where I crouched beside the injured man.

One paramedic hurried over, speaking rapidly in German. "I'm sorry, I don't speak German," I said, shaking my head.

He blinked, then switched to accented English. "Sorry. Thank you for keeping him alive, doctor," he said, eyes moving over the makeshift sling and the splint on the rider's leg. "We take from here."

I stepped back to give them space. "Monitor for signs of internal bleeding. Fractures in the left leg and arm, potentially the ribs as well. Significant blood loss from an abdominal laceration."

The paramedic nodded. "Yes, understood. We lift now," he called to his partner.

They slid a backboard beneath the injured man, and as they secured him, I helped stabilize his neck, fastening straps over each limb. Together, we lifted him carefully, coordinating our movements to ensure a smooth transfer. The climb up the slope was slow, and every step was measured to keep him steady. At the top, they transferred him onto the gurney, waiting by the guardrail. The ambulance's lights bathed the road in a rotating glow as they wheeled him toward it.

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One paramedic glanced back at me and gave a nod. "Thank you again, doctor. He is a bad injury, but with you help, he have chance."

I nodded back, the weight lifting from my chest as they loaded him into the ambulance. The doors closed, and as the vehicle pulled away, I watched the flashing lights disappear into the distance, hoping he'd make it through. Warmth filled my chest as I watched the ambulance disappear, leaving me on the roadside with the police. In my nine years in the ER, I'd saved countless lives, but this felt different. It wasn't just another case with a team of doctors ready to step in. Here, out in the middle of nowhere, it had been just me and him. His only shot. I looked down at my hands, still stained with his blood.

Magic sure has its uses.

A dry chuckle escaped me as I shook my head. My mana was too low, I needed to get to a Gate to recharge. The absurdity brought another chuckle out of me. I'd spent my whole life perfectly fine without mana. Yet here I was, worried my mana was too low and rushing to refill it. I grinned, half at myself and half at this bizarre new reality. Who would've thought I'd end up worrying about magical reserves?

The policemen looked at me strangely, and I straightened and schooled my features. Yeah, chuckling at the site of such an accident was bad form. I gave them my statement, answered their endless questions, and they left.

Back in the car, I could smell the lingering scent of blood that clung to my clothes. The drive down brought me out of the daze, mile by mile. My pulse still jumped and my breath caught every time headlights appeared in the opposite lane, but this also improved with distance. The adrenaline slowly faded away, and exhaustion pressed down on me. By the time I reached my hotel, I had to drag my body to the elevator. But even then, the damn red light kept flashing in my field of vision, nagging.

"All right, all right. Let's see what you're trying to tell me," I said, dropping onto the bed and picking up the room service phone. A strong coffee and a quick shower were in order before dealing with whatever these notifications had in store for me.

A short while later, a steaming cup arrived, filling the room with the rich scent of caffeine. I leaned back, a towel around my waist and coffee in hand, and finally gave my full attention to the persistent messages, ready to face the music.

Nice!

I never pressed Yes so fast in my life.

Yes, again. I was worried about what to display instead of Gate Traveler. That solved it.

The red dot was still there.

There were no more messages, so I opened my profile to get more info.

I clicked on the Healer class line.

I checked my profile again, but didn't see the three promised spells. A click on the spell line, and a message appeared:

When I closed the message, the new spells appeared under the Healer class. I checked them one by one, including the Heal Muscles, which I had never actually checked before.

As I read through the new spells, each one was a punch to the gut. My fists clenched so hard my knuckles turned white, and my joints cracked. A familiar hollow pain spread through my chest. If I had these powers a year ago, I could've healed Sophie. The thought cut me to ribbons, tearing wide wounds full of anger and regret. It was a cruel joke. The universe gave me these abilities only when they couldn't help the person I loved the most. My legs buckled, and I sank onto the bed, crying. Anger and helplessness tangled together and choked me until I had trouble breathing. I cried until the grief finally ebbed, leaving only a hollow acceptance. Nothing could change the past. Not even magic.

The next day, I woke up feeling exhausted but determined to move forward. I couldn't change the past. Raging about it didn't help either.

Instead of converting my new free points into an ability point, I put them all into Perception. It was the lowest, and I wanted to understand it better. The moment I assigned the points, a wave of dizziness washed over me, similar to the disorienting feeling that comes from stepping off an escalator too abruptly. It passed in an instant. My vision sharpened, and everything looked more real, like it was more there. More tangible. Colors seemed brighter, each shade more vibrant and distinct. Edges were sharper and more precise, as if someone had changed the world to HD. I could make out soft footsteps outside my door and the murmur of voices as they passed. A faint scent of detergent on my clothes became more pronounced. A light breeze drifted in through the window, cool on my skin, as the distant hum of street noise mingled with it. The traces of toothpaste in my mouth became noticeable. But with all those changes, the effect wasn't as dramatic as I expected. To my deepest regret, no eagle vision or bionic hearing manifested. But my perception of the world did sharpen. Like the world itself became more substantial.

I checked my profile for anything else besides the Healer class. My Health went up a bit, but it didn't seem to be linked to any of my stats, which left me scratching my head. The numbers didn't reflect any specific stat. Then my eyes stopped on the six new points in Intelligence, which, according to the books I read, should have meant a rise in mana. But my total mana hadn't changed. This didn't follow fantasy logic. I leaned back, frowning, and tried to figure out the changes or the lack thereof.

All right, let's figure you out, I thought, reaching for my stack of "manuals." There had to be something I'd missed. Maybe intelligence affected mana in some stories, but not all? Plus, most stories linked Vitality or Constitution to health. I had both, but the numbers didn't add up. Sadly, another day of research yielded no results. With a sigh, I closed the last book, feeling as confused about these stats as I had this morning. If none of these "manuals" had a straightforward answer, maybe the only way to understand them was to live with these changes.

There was no point in overthinking it for now. I'd come back to it eventually, but right now, I had a journey to prepare for. Frankfurt awaited, and I didn't have time to figure out every stat. I tucked the iPad away, took one last look around the room, and stored everything in my magical Storage, ready to move on.