Chương 4: The Crow

Aaron placed his tome, open on the floor. Thankfully it was magical and wouldn't get damaged by the rain. The crow closed its beady black eye. His heart skipped a beat. The bird didn't move. Didn't so much as blink. Was it dead? No, its chest still moved ever so slightly. He could still save it. He placed his hand on the wing of the crow, warm sticky blood coating his palm. A wave of guilt simmered through his chest. He felt sick to his stomach. It wasn't his fault, but he had the power to help.

He had to do something. He couldn't just walk away with this on his conscience. The injured helpless crow reminded him of his brother. Failure was not an option. Through his True Sight ability, he could feel the bird's pain as if it was his own. His ribs were shattered, legs broken, and life fading. There were puncture wounds on its flank from a bite. He was scared and cold. With each passing moment, the bird's squawks became more laboured and quieter. There wasn't time to get home.

If he didn't do something now, the bird would die. His book was open on the Osteokinesis and Manipulate page. He needed to start by fixing the broken ribs. Whilst reading the tome, Aaron pictured the intricate sequence of runes in his mind's eye. He carved them out in the air with an imaginary quill, making sure it matched the writing on the page exactly. First, he needed to focus on the broken ribs in the bird. He felt something cold build in his chest. That same feeling as when he had treated his patient.

He pressed it into the bird and pictured the broken bones forming back together. Instantly, he felt movement beneath his hand, like shifting rubble. Gentle pops and cracks resonated through his hand. Never had anything felt so innate and natural to Aaron. It was as if the power was as simple as walking or breathing. The crow's bones were hollow and light, perfect for flying. They glided and moulded seamlessly to his command. It was so easy. So natural.

And it had him doubt everything he had ever learned about healing. Patients would wait weeks for the Spirit Healing to take effect for similar injuries. Weeks to accomplish what he had done in mere moments. The crow flapped and wriggled at first, as if trying to escape. But as its bones started to heal, Aaron felt its body relax under his hand. It was as if it knew what was happening, or perhaps just that repairing the bones alleviated some of its pain.

His confidence building from his success, Aaron moved onto fixing the other damage. Blood vessels fused together by his will, torn muscle knitted itself whole once more. Manipulate was an innate ability, so he should be able to channel it instinctively. He examined the crow through his hand and looked for any damaged flesh. In addition to the bite wounds, there was a tear around its rib where the broken bone had severed some of the muscle on its chest.

Aaron focused his mana into the tear and willed it back together. He didn't really know what he was doing, but to his delight, the broken muscle began to move. Hundreds of stringy muscle fibres reached across the severed gap and linked together. They tightened, pulling the broken ends towards each other and sealing it shut. It was incredible how easy it was to heal a wound which would have taken weeks to repair with traditional Spirit Healing methods.

He repeated the process for all of the damaged muscle and puncture wounds and looked for areas where he could stop any active bleeding. Within a few heartbeats, it was as if nothing had ever happened to harm the crow. Aaron's fears about Necromancy were alleviated at that moment. All the stories and legends painted them as cruel and unnatural, but he had proven to himself that he could be more than that. It was a powerful tool for healing and something worth sharing and developing.

The squawking began to fade and slow. Aaron felt the bird's heart halt to a complete stop. Aaron used his True Sight ability as fast as he could and scanned the bird's body three times over for any possible cause. His heart bounced in his chest with fear. How could this happen? I thought I just fixed everything! Aaron paused and focused. Emotions weren't going to help him now, he needed a solution. He thought about Manipulate's description. Its power comes from one's knowledge of the body.

He could work with that - He knew loads about the heart. The mechanism was so simple: A pump connected with valves and tubes, efficiently designed to circulate the body's life force. Its simplicity was the reason why it worked so well, as a missed beat could mean the difference between life and death. He dug deep and pictured the crow's heart in his mind. He had read countless texts of human hearts, but never had he seen such a clear picture, even if it was a crow.

Roughly the size of a peanut, the heart was perfectly split into four chambers, two small and two large. Each chamber flowed into another or into a pipe-like vessel flowing to the rest of the body, with one-way valves protecting each section from back flow. This needs to work. It's just like a human heart but… a little smaller. He imagined each individual muscle fibre of the heart like a bundle of springs, aligned together and ready to be compressed.

He reached his spirit out and connected with the heart of the bird. He could feel its stillness. But it was still warm. He squeezed the largest two chambers. At first nothing happened. Aaron clenched his fists and pressed harder, his knuckles went white from straining. He felt every fiber of the heart as if his own hands were somehow wrapped around it. Gradually, he began to feel the heart move. Blood slowly emptied out of the chambers and gently flowed into the bird's lungs and major organs.

Aaron felt his own heart bounding in his chest, as if a small hammer was beating on his ribs from within. He bit his lip, straining to focus, unable to take his eyes away from the miracle unfolding by his own will. He couldn't believe what he was feeling; he could feel this tiny heart within his mind and hear the flow of life like crashing waves. The intricate movements of the heart were fascinating, the efficiency and synchronization mesmerising. This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road.

If you see it on Amazon, please report it. He relaxed the larger chambers and squeezed the two smaller ones at the same time. Whoosh! A powerful jet of blood shot in and re-filled the large chambers, now contained behind the pressure of the valves. He was getting the hang of it and able to use much more force. He squeezed the first chambers again and blood surged through the body. Then the second, then the first again.

"One, Two, One, Two," he counted, mimicking the speed of a human heart. Each time he squeezed, his whole body clenched as if he was bracing for a punch. Aaron's breath was now visible in air above the bird as he panted into the cold, dark street. If his mind wasn't absorbed in what was unfolding in front of him, the pain caused by performing this spell might have been too much to bear. It was like a knife in the centre of his chest, cold, sharp, and slowly ebbing outward into the rest of his body.

Using so much mana had left him beyond exhausted—his spirit was drained. He thought back to his knowledge of physiology and remembered that children's hearts beat faster. He knew that animals were similar. Double time now, he pumped the heart. One, Two, One, Two, One, Two, One, Two. He could feel the life force of the bird. Blood was flowing through its body and each system was coming to life. The bird's muscles were rich with blood, sparks firing in its brain and lungs cycling breaths in and out.

Aaron was awe struck. He was frozen in this cycle, witnessing life like he had never seen before. He could see and feel the life and soul of this bird. Magic comes from the spirit; the strength and type of soul and the connection of the caster with their purpose determines their power. Before today, Aaron had wondered if he was weak spirited, but now there was no doubt. He pondered whether this is how the gods felt when creating life. Squawk As the crow used its weak voice, Aaron felt a surge of energy within him.

He could sense his soul's connection with the book in his bag sharpening, as if a beam of sunlight shone between them, warming his chest. He couldn't see the words, or hear them, but somehow knew. He could see them there in his mind's eye. [Skill proficiency increase] Manipulate: Level 2 * [Somatomancy talent unlocked] Heart Mastery: rank 1 Aaron was so overjoyed by the sound of the bird's voice, he barely noticed the notifications. The muted caw of the crow made Aaron's eyes well up.

Joy and adrenaline rushed through him. His body tingled with relief. Overcome with visions of the marvel he had witnessed, he almost didn't notice that something wasn't quite right. The crow was weak and had lost a lot of blood. He wouldn't survive out here. Reality suddenly caught up to Aaron. He felt his back, drenched from the rain. His hair usually scraped back and fastened with some thread was now stuck to his forehead and dripping on the floor.

The ground was cold and slippery, his knees painful from kneeling on the cobbled stone floor. The reflections of lights rippled in the blood stained puddle beneath him. He couldn't leave the crow like this. His back squelched as he threw the bag back on. He cradled the crow in his arm using the coat to shelter him from the rain and began the journey home. Night-time now, the dim street lighting glistened in the wet cobbled paths. It was quiet away from the city centre.

The splash of each step resonated through the narrow empty streets. His path was guided by the soft white hue of the full moon flooding down from above. Rats scurried away, disappearing behind the apartment bins as Aaron climbed the stairs to his home. Wheel barrows, tables, chairs and wooden roofing tiles were scattered around the back of the building, draped with pale cloth. Aaron's home was a small room situated above the shop. His legs felt as if they were filled with lead.

Every step up to his room was slow and difficult. He was exhausted from using his magic, but he didn't care. Finally, he felt like he could do something to help. His brother needed him. The rusty iron key affixed to his belt was barely a fit to the lock on his large wooden door. It took several tries to position it at the correct angle before it clicked with the locking mechanism. The door glided open gradually and carefully as Aaron did not want to disturb anyone.

Caw, caw, caw The crow woke up, alerted by the warmth of the house.

"What in the world?" A soft, tired voice called through the dark living room.

"Aaron, are you there? I think a bird got in."

"Yes, hi Tim," Aaron said.

"Sorry for waking you. That was me."

"Why are you squawking?"

"I'll explain in a minute." The short ripping sound of a striking match preceded a dim, flickering light in the distance. The table full of books flickered with the light, yet it wasn't bright enough to make out any words. Tim's gentle, yet steady footsteps could be heard from the other room as he approached and the light grew stronger.

"Don't worry, brother. I couldn't sleep anyways. How are you?" Tim stood in the doorway carrying a candle holder. A surge of relief rushed through Aaron at the sight of him—he was home. It was only now he realised how exhausted he was. Though worry dawned on him at what he might think of the crow. His brother was a slim young man, his clavicles sharp and almost piercing through his top. His face carried the same tiredness it always did, with dark bags under his eyes.

His complexion was pale, yet his eyes were soft and kind.

"I'm well, just a little wet." The crow struggled in his coat, and Aaron grimaced as a claw scraped his chest. He tried to adjust it discreetly, but the crow wormed its way up until its head poked out from above his top button. A smile broke the tired lines of Tim's face.

"I thought that sounded too much like a real bird! Who is this?"

"This is a crow I found on the street, I…" Pausing momentarily, with a look of shame and sadness, Aaron continued, "He'd been attacked by an animal, but I was able to heal him. He needs my help."

"Don't be sad, Aaron. You managed to help him and you should be proud. Bring him here, let's get him warm and dry." Tim always had a way of reassuring Aaron. His kindness was obvious and pure. The world was not fair to make him sick. Tim would take all of the world's pain and suffering on himself if it meant making other people feel better. It was moments like this which reminded Aaron of his purpose. He had to try again to cure his brother's curse. It was the least he deserved.

Tim hobbled over to the fire, tracing the wall with his hand for balance and slowly knelt down to the floor. The kindling crackled as he used the candle to light the fireplace. The light grew as he blew into the flames, illuminating the old furniture in the small room. The crow rested its head on the floor as Aaron placed him in front of the flames. Aaron finally felt calm as he bathed in the warmth of the fire with his brother sitting beside him.

"What should we call him?" Tim asked, with a subtle sly smirk in one corner of his mouth.

"We can't keep him, Tim. He just needs to stay until he's back in shape."

"Cuthbert!" Tim exclaimed, grinning at the thought of winding his brother up. Aaron considered protesting but could only chuckle.

"Cuthbert it is" The moment of calm and camaraderie was brief and fleeting as Tim's expression changed. He screwed up his brow.

"His spirit is fading, his soul is… dying"