Chương 74: Chapter 73 - The New Infirmary

"I'm Healer Clements. Pleased to meet you," said a small woman, dressed in a matching white tunic and trousers. There were black stripes sewn onto her shoulder, likely signifying rank. She wasn't as old as Giddeon, but the creases on her forehead and slivers of grey in her hair suggested she'd probably been healing for a couple of decades.

"Hi, I'm Aaron. Likewise," Aaron said, slightly taken aback by the warmth of the senior healer. This was quite the contrast from the city, although perhaps it was because he'd never been seen as a patient before.

"Aaron has a wounded arm from a tussle with a Malechor. He says it's not bad, but protocol is protocol." Breanna paused and sucked her lip, making a loud tutting sound.

"And Master Giddeon says he is to join the ranks of the healers," she continued with a not so subtle flavour of sarcasm around the word 'master.'

"Very well. Let's look at the arm first, and we can talk about your experience later to see where we can fit you in."

"Great. I'll send someone for him this evening to take him to his room." And without a hint of hesitation, Breanna turned and walked off back out the entrance. The infirmary looked less impressive on the inside than from the outside. The shoddy stonework was still visible from within. It was a patchwork of misshapen stones clumped together in lime mortar. Wooden beams reinforced the walls and supported the thatched roof above. Thankfully, they looked in better shape than the stone.

Otherwise, the decor was worn and dated. The floorboards creaked with each step, and the chairs were stained with age. At least it didn't smell like the pungent cleaning agents in the city. It smelled like a pleasant mix of citrus and lavender. Aaron's shoulder twitched without the weight of Cuthbert. He'd grown accustomed to having him around. He was like a soothing shadow, ever by his side. Tim would look after him, though. He had nothing to worry about there.

Healer Clements led Aaron down a wide corridor in the centre of the building. Two doors opposite each other opened into waiting rooms, with equally worn-out chairs. A few paces further up were two wards full of patients. It still smelled like lavender, but it was much louder with all of the staff shuffling around the rooms. Finally, they approached a T in the corridor. Several doors sat across the back wall, each with names on them. Aaron was led into one which said 'Healer Clements. Chief Healer.'

The room was poorly furnished. Aaron half expected it to be nice, since his masters in the city would have hoarded all of the decent furniture for themselves. The table and chairs matched the rest of the building. The nicest part of the room was the window at the back, filling it with natural light.

"Please, take a seat and roll up your arm." Aaron complied. The chair creaked as he sat down and rocked back and forth as one leg was slightly shorter than the rest. Healer Clements crouched down to take a closer look as he rolled up his sleeve.

"I had a little bit of a healing potion left, which worked nicely, but I don't want to get any corruption in my arm."

"It doesn't look corrupted, but better safe than sorry." Aaron breathed a sigh of relief as the healer rustled around a drawer. He'd been trying to figure out a good lie since he agreed to go into the infirmary for help. A healing potion would be untraceable and would explain how a small wound healed so quickly. Healer Clements came back with a slab of wood with green glowing runes engraved into it.

"This is infused with a light spell. It will burn out any corruption. It might hurt slightly. Take a deep breath, then exhale, please." Aaron did as asked.

"Now hold it in," she said as the wood started glowing and she pressed it to his shoulder. A crescendo of light bathed the room, forcing Aaron to look away. Feigning agony, he yelled in pain. She needs to think there was corruption in the wound, else she might start asking questions about my resistance to it. The light dimmed into nothing and the room felt dark for a few moments whilst Aaron's eyes adjusted.

"It looked fine from the outside, but judging by your reaction, there must have been some corruption in there. It is a little bit odd that there was no black. It must have been sealed inside when you used the healing potion. How does it feel?" Aaron moved his arm in circles and rubbed his shoulder with his opposite hand. He made a show of pulling a grimace.

"A little sore, but not too bad. Thank you. Does this happen often? Corrupted wounds with no external signs, that is." She furrowed her brow.

"I wouldn't say often, but yes, from time to time we get caught out by very subtle or internal signs that can't be seen with the eye." She paused for a moment, humming and prodding around at Aaron's shoulder.

"I must say though, your skin is very tough. Almost unnaturally so. Have you used any enchantments?" Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original. How does she know? Spirit Healers aren't taught to detect magic. Unless Lich's Strength is changing the look of my spirit. But even so, I've never felt an enchantment do that before. I'm guessing she has some sort of other magic.

Perhaps from the Seer school, and she can sense physical properties, like strength, toughness, and stamina. Aaron shuffled around on his chair.

"Yes, actually. I had an enchanter put a spell of Toughness on me. I was hoping it would help stop corrupted creatures from penetrating my skin. I guess I was wrong. How did you know?"

"I've trained with seers. I can sense strength, toughness, fortitude, and so on. It helps me to identify my patients with the greatest need first. It makes sense now. I was just curious how your skin's toughness was a jump higher than the rest of you." Aaron hummed in agreement, but secretly felt like he was about to explode with tension. He'd need to be more careful who he let touch him, in case anyone else had powerful enough magic to sense his spells.

There were almost certainly people with the ability to do so in a Necromancer hunter camp. He didn't want to give anything away until Giddeon had spoken to the leaders of the camp. And even then, he had no idea if it would be safe to openly be a Necromancer.

"It must have helped a bit. If I didn't have it, my wound might have been too much for a mouthful of healing potion to fix."

"I suppose so. Our enchanters tend not to just toughen the skin. They give a host of boons to our soldiers."

"I was short on money. I could afford one spell, and I thought this would help the most. I had no intention of fighting these things head on," Aaron said. Healer Clements hummed approvingly.

"Very wise of you. Anyways, about your job. We always have room for more hands here. As you can see, we are short on space and staff and have plenty of patients to go round. What experience do you have?"

"I worked at an infirmary as a porter," he lied.

"I have helped with healing rituals and overheard a lot of Spirit Healer teachings over the years. I'd like to learn."

"Well, you sound perfect. You can start off as a porter, and I'll let you attend some teachings and treat patients under supervision." Aaron couldn't help but turn up his cheeks in excitement. The healer continued, "BUT… you'll need to be vetted, of course. And you'll have a few weeks of working under close observation. I hope you understand we can't just unleash anyone on our patients without knowing you first. Even if almighty Giddeon sent you himself." Aaron stifled his grin.

"Yes, of course. I'd expect nothing less."

"Great. Have some food, then report to Shari. Tell her I sent you to be working as her porter. There's a lunchroom next door."

"Bandages, cleaning spirit, and a herb pack, NOW!" The small woman shouted. Blood spewed out of the soldier's leg in rhythmic jets with each heartbeat. The bite was deep and had clearly punctured an artery. The woman ran in and confidently clamped her hands around the leg. Red trickled between her fingers and onto the bed below. She stood patiently, unfazed in the situation. Aaron rummaged through the drawer at the back of the room with another porter.

He knew what the supplies looked like, but had to be shown where each was stored. He carried a handful of bandages to the healer, along with a jug full of potent cleaning spirit. The familiar vinegar-like tang stung the back of his nostrils. Before he could speak, the woman snatched the supplies with a brief reassuring nod and immediately got to work. She poured the jug of spirit over the wound. A shriek of pain quickly followed as the soldier curled his arms up in agony.

"Lay back, it'll be done soon," she said, pushing his chest firmly back into the bed. She gathered up a ball of bandages and pressed them into the bite wound. She tightened both hands around his leg and pressed both thumbs down into the fabric. The tips of her thumbs went white from the pressure. Aaron felt as if his body was vibrating with anticipation. Images of the wound and severed blood vessel peered into his mind through his True Sight. I could stop that bleed so easily.

But if anyone here knows about Spirit Healing or has an ability to sense others' magic, I'd be screwed. He held on with bated breath. The injury looked bad, but a battle medic could deal with it without magic. Pressure alone would stop the bleeding.

"You, porter. Come here and put pressure over the wound," she said, staring directly at Aaron.

"I'm here to shadow Sahri. Healer Clements said I need to be vetted before I can get involved."

"I AM Shari. You don't know where anything is, and I need extra hands. Can't you see we're drowning here?" Aaron looked around. Every bed was full, and staff in white tunics ran around in organised chaos. She was right. But he made a promise to himself not to use any Necromancy. He briskly walked over and took over putting pressure on the bandages. The soldier yelped in pain again as he pressed down, but lay firmly back on the bed, gritting his teeth. A bead of sweat trickled down his red temple.

The woman ran to the other porter, exchanged a few words which were too muffled by the commotion in the room to understand, and came back with a handful of herbs. Aaron recognised one as thyme, but he wasn't an expert. Herbs were an archaic reagent, rarely used in modern Spirit Healing. At least not in the city. The flow of blood dripping beneath the bandages had slowed with time and pressure, but Aaron could sense it was still bleeding.

With a flash of blue, Shari crushed the herbs in her hands and placed them either side of the bandage, with Aaron still applying pressure. For the next fifteen minutes, Aaron felt mana humming past his hands as the bleeding gradually slowed. It was a simple spirit balancing spell. Only powerful enough to work on the small damaged area. But when combined with physical pressure, it was enough to stop the bleeding.

"The bleeding's stopped, but you'll need more treatment to repair the damage to your leg. You'll be out of action for a week." The soldier groaned and threw his head back into the chair.

"You know what it's like out there. We need everyone we can get." Shari looked up from the scroll and stopped frantically scribbling for a moment to meet his eye.

"We need every able-bodied person. And you are certainly not able in this state." The soldier huffed out a defeated sigh.

"Yes, ma'am." Shari barely acknowledged the remark, already eyeing up the other patients in the ward.

"What's your name, porter?"

"Aaron." Shari tucked her scroll under her arm and gestured for Aaron to follow.

"Okay, Aaron, come with me. You seem to know your way around a wound. Let's get you helping."

"Hang on, what's going on out there? Are we safe here?"