(Avatar) Amdirlain’s PoV - Yorubi

  Amdirlain continued to draw attention as she walked through the town of a few thousand people. The stressed state of the wounded laid up in the town’s core prompted her to take shortcuts through side passages. Through these sometimes narrow paths, she skipped cattle grids designed to catch at beetles’ clawed feet. At the irregular junctions between paths, she passed children playing games that involved simultaneously keeping multiple coloured balls in the air between them.

  When she reached the largest clear space in town, scores of Ontaritu chopped and scraped the soft flesh from shells. The soft tissues and gizzards went into kegs along with a vinegary alcohol. On the west side of the plaza, shield-sized plates of black chitin enclosed the most prominent building, with lingering traces of mana from recent repairs. A group of guards clad in grey leather sat on benches near the entrance, checking weapons and tending to assorted damage from the recent fighting. Its circular structure was five stories tall with a fourteen-meter radius; the high internal ceilings and the covered merlons along its rooftop added another two metres atop its fifteen-meter height.

  The traveller’s lodge that the guard had mentioned lay to the north, covered in smaller chitin plates that they’d lacquered with a blend of colourful hues. Three-stories tall, it was half the diameter of the town’s core. Its ground floor was a pub and eatery, with the floors above having private rooms against the outer wall while the centre was a common room for pallets. Beside it was a single-story building that matched its diameter; the interior contained a circular pen for the draft animals. Six other buildings, filled with shops and shrines, completed the ring of the plaza, with only three exits from the area that weren’t at least partially obstructed.

  Since beetles and other insects can fly, they cannot stop them from entering town, but they can force them to use specific routes while on the ground. The narrower gaps and clutter between buildings mean they can’t spread their wings.

  She looked over those working and noticed the tendency for the Ontaritu to use their lower arms to lift or push things. Their upper arms came into play with larger weapons and manipulating objects above the middle of their chests. Amdirlain slipped through the crowd and headed for the front door of the town’s core. From among a group of six guards near its front door, one muscular fellow stepped forward, his arms already spread out. His gaze lingered with curiosity on her Wu Shu garb of crimson and gold, and his thoughts leapt to the same assumption as others.

  “Teacher, there are no counsellors available to see anyone. Could I help you with something?”

  “I heard injured defenders are being treated here. Since I have the Life Affinity, I came to see if I could offer any help with their healing.”

  His gills flexed rapidly as air huffed through him faster. “Bakari and the priests have patients spread between three floors. Let me escort you.”

  He practically yanked the reinforced front door off its hinges and waved her ahead of him. The corridor of grey stone had scratch marks and dried bloodstains from floor to ceiling.

  Unconcerned about him at her back, Amdirlain strode ahead, eyeing the recently cleaned bloodstains inside the entryway. Along with the slain beetles, they told tales of the wounded carried through the passage.

  “Did the beetles get through that door?”

  “There was a Blade Beetle with them.” The guard raised a hand above his forehead and waggled it about. “The blasted thing pried it open for its lesser kin.”

  She glimpsed a massive rhinoceros beetle within the guard’s memories. Its evolution had changed the two horns that projected from a standard beetle head into a single wedge-shaped blade that measured two metres.

  “Did it land in the plaza or atop the building?”

  “They kept it off the rooftop with polearms after it shrugged off bolts and blades. We were worried it would rip the side of the core open until the healer burst its heart.”

  Life magic isn’t just for healing here.

  “I can find my way if you are busy with cleanup duties,” Amdirlain offered. With a nod, she spread her arms, and the guard responded before stepping back outside.

  The central area of the ground floor showed evidence of patients quickly treated, blood-stained benches extended into the surrounding shrines, and the clinic. Young novices without their classes yet were cleaning up, dealing with dirty bandages, and burning incense to clear the air. A wedge held the door at the base of the stairs open, and the light from the central chamber turned the grillwork into a net of shadows that lay across the steps. Old scars in the stonework showed where defenders had struck at foes through that grill in past battles.

  She took the stairs in the central chamber two at a time until she slipped through the door securing its top. An angled enclosure atop the stairs allowed defenders to strike at the back of anything trying to force its way through the door. The stairs to the next floor started on the far side of the room, so she slipped along the outside to avoid disturbing the patients laid out on portable stretchers of beetle shells stuffed with hide. Among those here, she sensed the healed wounds and blood loss or concussions that had kept them here for observation. Light touches of magic had been used to stabilise their conditions, but she caught the mix of gratitude and frustration from the young priests watching over them.

  Among them, a young novice priestess whispered soft prayers of thanks to Danu as Amdirlain passed. The energy from gaining third-level in two classes? was still awash within her, showing it was the aftermath rather than the battle itself that had provided the final needed experience.

  The sparsely furnished offices on the perimeter of the floor had their arrow-slit racks restocked with arrows and bolts, while town officials dealt with the eternal paperwork. Slips of paper with reports on the wounded, tallies of the dead, damage to buildings, and spent supplies cluttered multiple tables.

  On the stairs to the next floor, pools of dried blood spotted the steps going up, and sprays showed where tourniquets had slipped. A purification spell swept the lot away ahead of Amdirlain. Steel bands reinforced the defensive door set in the enclosure at the top of the stairs, though it currently stood open. The panelling and bands showed where repair work had occurred in the last year.

  I wonder how often the insects make it inside buildings? With flying foes, they must bring the wounded here after the battle has ended.

  The second floor of patients were those who’d endured more serious injuries. Internal bleeding, severed hands or feet, and damaged organs. Junior priests had tended the wounded with simpler blessings, which required longer for wounds to fully stabilise. The rooms around the exterior of this floor seemed to be those for more senior officials, with fancier furnishings and personal items on wall shelves.

  Those who noticed her nodded respectfully and didn’t move to stop her, their minds awash with sometimes scary tales of elves not tolerating interference.

  With the worst cases on the fourth floor, she continued climbing, monitoring the two people there as they moved between the forty patients. One of them was a Priest of hers attired in reddish-orange robes while the other was a Wizard with the Life Affinity. Instead of cloth garments, he wore a rawhide leather shirt and pants with tasselled fringes along the seams that carried enchanted beads with protective charms. She found that style of attire in a nation a thousand kilometres to the south, bordering the Lizardfolk lands.

  When she slipped through the defensive doorway at the top of the curving stairs, her Priest was leaning against the wall nearby. His eyes were partly closed, his robes were sweat-stained, and he wore a pendant of a red phoenix surrounded by a white starburst. As his tired gaze caught on the phoenix pattern in her clothing, he hoped for a travelling priestess, but he didn’t know any groups that dared use gold.

  I didn’t have a symbol, so folks just made one based on tales? Is gold an issue because of an association with predators and monsters? I’ll dig later.

  The healer stepped forward, putting himself between her and the nearest pallet. “I’m Bakari. You are?”

  “Don’t! She’s obviously a teacher, Bakari.” The Priest hurried close and put a hand on Bakari’s lower forearm, words spilling forth. “I’m Imani. Bakari is new to this town, and he’s not met any elves. He doesn’t realise it’s an insult to ask for your name. Please forgive him this once.”

  A check through links with her elven faithful provided the factoid that elves had three types of names, none of which they’d share with a stranger. In their culture, it was a grave insult to enquire or demand names, with bloody beatings administered to the persistent.

  “While I won’t share my name, you can refer to me as Am,” Amdirlain offered. “I’ve travelled a bit, and I know some people are uncomfortable without a way to address another.”

  Bakari glanced at the still tense Imani before turning back to Amdirlain. “It’s not your actual name?”

  “No, but it’s better than ‘hey you’ or ‘Elf’, and no one enjoys being called ‘late for dinner’.” As the pair blinked in confusion, Amdirlain shrugged helplessly. “I guess that joke to lighten the mood missed its mark here.”

  “Might I enquire why elves don’t normally share their names?” Bakari asked.

  “Custom. Elves live a long time, and we’re cautious about some things. Are you unaware that knowing someone’s name can let you target them with ritual spells more easily?”

  “No Spell that I know can reach someone through a name.”

  “Life is greater than any of us knows.” Amdirlain motioned to the weakest of the guards. “Would you like help with the soldiers?”

  “We wouldn’t impose,” Imani demurred.

  The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

  From the tales in his mind, the elves are extremely high-strung on this world.

  “Yet I offered.”

  Imani turned slightly to wave towards the patients. “We’ve healed all the wounds we could, but they’ve lost a lot of blood. We’ve been providing them with meat and fluids to keep their strength up.”

  “I know some spells that can help with restoring blood,” Amdirlain offered, before she nodded to another guard with a severed leg. “And others for restoring limbs.”

  I can fix the bones, muscles, and ligaments, but I need more spell lists for nerves. Need to see if I picked them up during my short-lived spying endeavour. I didn’t check the spell lists in my library.

  Her primary body reached for the library, and there came a background thrum of learning. In the Outlands, Amdirlain memorised hundreds of spells for the Life and Mental Affinity in seconds.

  “Elven blood is not the same as our blood,” Bakari said warily.

  “The spells don’t create the blood,” Amdirlain clarified. “Instead, they help the body produce more. While the lower spells are about controlling blood loss, the complex ones can restore the blood in multiple people faster than an arterial bleed would drain it.”

  Bakari’s lower hands clasped together. “How much would you charge? This town manages, but it doesn’t have an abundance of spare coin.”

  “Would the town cover a place to sleep and food for a brief stay?”

  “Is that really all you want?” He blinked rapidly, giving the impression of a startled owl.

  “It’s my choice what I charge for casting spells, isn’t it?”

  Imani jabbed Bakari’s side. “He is a typical southerner, too caught up in the value of a trade.”

  “Yet, that’s also his choice.”

  “Yes, quite true,” Imani said. “Are you a follower of Amdirlain?”

  “I like her tenets of choice and creation. We can talk about them after this situation is over.” Amdirlain stepped closer to the ones in the worst shape. “Let’s tend to the wounded.”

  “Would you tell me about the Spell and what it does?” Bakari kept out of her way.

  “The Spell’s name is fairly mundane,” Amdirlain said, as she cast it on the sickest Ontaritu. “New Blood. It lingers in their bones, providing resources to allow blood restoration.”

  “It stimulates the bone marrow?”

  “Yes.”

  She worked through the chamber, aware that Bakari was closely watching each release of the Spell and the healthy change in the patients’ colouration. Imani stayed to monitor the patients as they moved between floors.

  By the time she was done aiding all the wounded, excitement had washed the fatigue from Bakari’s posture. “Where did you learn that Spell from?”

  “I’ve been travelling and collecting spells from lots of places.”

  “Is it rude to ask how old you are? I’ve never seen such clean lines in mana work.”

  “I can give you some lessons before I leave town. Let’s tend to the missing limbs.”

  “I can mend organs, damaged flesh, or muscles, but the most I can do with bones is heal breaks. Regrowing limbs I have to leave up to the priests,” Bakari clacked his beak with disapproval. “However, for whatever reason, the more experienced priests were called away to help establish new settlements. One church at a time summoned the senior priests to the capital, and all we heard was they’d been reassigned.”

  “Groups not speaking to each other and all assuming only they had drawn their senior priest away?”

  “Perhaps,” Bakari said begrudgingly.

  Amdirlain nodded to an older patient who had only lost a few fingers. “I’ll show you on her first if she agrees. It’s not a comfortable process, so it's best if you have spells for keeping a patient unconscious.”

  “I have spells to put foes to sleep, but they don’t remain in that state if they experience any pain. I typically get patients drunk or have them brace against the pain in whatever fashion suits them.”

  Biting down on a stick will not stop their ability to scream.

  “Another thing for me to teach you before I leave. There are two approaches to take. There is a variation of Nerve Law that includes spells to block the physical sensation, while Calm Minds keeps the target in a dream state unaware of surroundings. The latter is a variation of the Calm Spirits spell list typically used to induce slumber in foes; however, it needs Mental Affinity, not the Life Affinity required by Calm Spirits.”

  “I only have the Life Affinity, nothing else.”

  “I’ll show you the options from the Nerve Law variation then,” Amdirlain declared, before she moved to the patient she had pointed out earlier. She crouched beside her and laid a hand gently on her forearm. “Might I restore your fingers?”

  “There are others worse off.”

  “Yes, but I’d like your help in teaching Bakari some spells. By starting with fingers and working up to full limbs, it’s more instructive. I’ve sufficient Mana to help all the wounded, so you’re simply the first to be tended. Is that alright with you?”

  With a relieved chirp, the old female nodded.

  “You don’t need to see it. The process looks rather gross.” Amdirlain created a frame and a cloth and positioned it over the female’s forearm to block her view while letting Bakari see. “Now, I’ll block your nerves so you don’t feel the regrowth.”

  “I think seeing it might be easier; my mind is concocting hideous images.”

  “Nothing hideous is going on, but I do have to cut your stitches open. Call me Am. You are?”

  “I’m Nayah, Am.”

  Amdirlain nodded as she unwrapped the bandages from Nayah’s hand and studied the stitches. “I’m pleased to meet you, Nayah. I wish it could have been under better circumstances.”

  “You’re a healer, so these are really fortunate circumstances for me to meet you in, Am.”

  Amdirlain’s gaze warmed with delight.

  The first Spell isolated the blood flow in the numbed hand and cut the stitches holding the flap of skin in place over the stump. Then she set a few spells in motion, causing the bones to grow from the stumps with flesh, blood vessels, nerves and ligaments weaving around them. As the first joint was complete, the regrowth continued while she added another Spell to sheath the exposed flesh in skin.

  Bakari watched over her shoulder. “Thank you, Am. I’m in your debt.”

  I want to take my time with these spells so that Bakari can learn. I could educate him while I do this. Singing elements of the Fey into myself is where my obsession with debt developed, along with the trap of promises.

  “There is no debt between us,” Amdirlain said. “You should know it’s dangerous to thank some forest creatures, especially those with Fey bloodlines. I hope you’ve not done that in your past.”

  “You’re the first Elf I’ve spoken with, and I’ve never ventured beyond any forest’s edge,” Bakari replied.

  “I’ve not spoken to any either; those who have passed through in the past were very choosy about who they’d talk with,” Nayah advised. “Why is it dangerous?”

  “When you thank a Fey, it implies you are acknowledging you owe them a debt. While there are some circumstances where it’s safe, it’s best to avoid it and instead express your appreciation for the result or compliment the ability they display. Then whatever action they took is their choice and not something you petitioned of them. If you want help from one, always set a clear price first, and be careful of vague wording.”

  Once the growth was complete, a single Spell filled the vessels of the stabilised flesh with blood, and she unblocked the flow in the connected vessels.

  Just a little 3D-printing exercise.

  With the blood flowing nicely, Amdirlain dispelled the nerve block and then lifted the screen away so Nayah could see her hand.

  She wiggled her fingers, tension leaving her shoulders.

  “I appreciate your expertise,” Nayah smiled.

  Amdirlain winked and stood to face Bakari. “Why don’t we step into a side room to discuss your questions? I’ve found that conversations about healing unsettle some patients.”

  I disliked overhearing doctors talk and not understanding what they meant, I’m sure it would be worse if we went into arcane details. It’s easy to have them questioning whether it’s the people we’re interested in helping or using them as an excuse for the arcane mumbo jumbo.

  He showed her ?his clinic on the ground floor. Its setup was a pair of rooms, one with benches for those waiting, and the other had an examination table and racks of dried medicinal herbs and salves.

  When he ushered her inside, Amdirlain settled on a bench in the waiting room.

  “How did you control six spells together?” Bakari blurted.

  “While you don’t have to support them together, doing so will save Mana as you’re not having to recast spells.” Amdirlain created an illusion of the cat’s cradle interaction of the spells she’d used on Nayah. “How I sustain spells is to connect them with the patient, but don’t completely release them as they activate. That way, you can continue the Mana flow. Each Spell contributes to the overall pattern, adding to a major element of the limb. Now, look what happens with muscles.”

  She added the Spell for muscles to the illusion, and the displayed tension between the spells multiplied.

  “So the fingers are easiest since the muscles in the hand don’t extend into them?” Bakari asked.

  “Exactly, and feet are a pain with all the tiny bones,” Amdirlain changed the Mana pressure in the spells, shifting the pattern back and forth. “As the healing progresses, you soften or strengthen the spells.”

  Bakari twitched uncomfortably. “I can support three spells together, but I’ve never gone beyond that.”

  “You’ve only a single Wizard Class?”

  “Yes.” Bakari’s gaze flickered away. “I didn’t like the other options the vision offered.”

  “I wasn’t being critical, simply asking. There are ways to unlock other classes that can sharpen your mind. The stronger you develop your intellect, the more spells you can hold together.”

  “I couldn’t bear alchemy or enchanting since they’re so isolating,” Bakari huffed. “Unguents and salves are the limits of my patience for preparations.”

  “Then maybe other variations of Wizard will help. If you learn enough Life-related spells, you can get more options without gaining another Affinity,” Amdirlain advised. “That aside, in the short term, it’s a matter of planning around your limits until you extend them. The nerve block lasts for a set duration once cast, so it doesn’t need to be sustained. You’d start with the limb’s bones, cartilage, and some ligaments, complete its growth, then fill out around it, working outwards in layers. Larger limbs can’t remain bloodless for as long, so work on them in sections. You can leave the nerves to last, but ensure the nerve block hasn’t faded or regrowing nerves through flesh is agonising.”

  “If the nerves aren’t present, why worry about the nerve block before that?”

  “The limb isn’t grown in isolation,” Amdirlain noted. “If the limb was partly severed, its regrowth is putting pressure on the flesh and muscles enclosing the other end, which still have nerves. You’d risk patients vomiting over you at the very least, or going into shock. There is a separate issue in planning the recreation. Have you watched blessings knit new limbs?”

  “Yes, they differed from what you did,” Bakari replied. “With the Blessing, it was as if slices of the limbs were being woven by light and sealed to the stump’s end. Why do you ask?”

  “The Blessing is being channelled to the Priest from their deity, and thus the god knows what the person needs. Unless they’re looking to teach them a lesson, the replacement limb is a close match to the original. When you’re recreating limbs, pay attention to the patient and match the person’s size. If you’re careless, you can create a limb out of proportion to the rest of the patient’s body.”

  “Oh. Are there any spells that can help guide the process?”

  I matched it to her theme; I should have used the Spell.

  Amdirlain nodded. “Good question, and though you can cast it in advance, sustaining it as well provides the best results.”

  “I didn’t see any spells reading their flesh.”

  “I’ve got a Power I used. I’ll show you that Spell this time.”

  They returned to the central chamber, and Bakari picked the next patient to help.