Chapter 15
Chapter fifteen
Annalise
It doesn’t take long to learn that Arcane Healing is almost as painful a class to sit through as Combat Medicine.
I’m not sure if it’s how monotone Healer Alric’s voice is or if it’s the monotonous task of listening to him drone on about medical journal findings, but either way, I’m ready for our labs to start in both classes.
I am sure that Healing will not be on my short-list for my track, but I’m also not dumb enough to ignore that the skills learned in these classes could save my life or someone in my squadrons—here or after graduation.
Beside me, Sasha is practically vibrating in her seat, nodding along to the information she already knows, and mentally cataloging each new concept as if it were a treasure.
I need to ask Sasha for medical treatment book recommendations after class.
I can’t afford to fall behind and end up with academic punishments.
“This,” Alric says with a slow, deliberate emphasis, “is a hemostatic elixir called ‘Redline’”.
We pass around a small glass vial sealed with a cork, taking notes on its physical properties after we’re given strict instructions not to open it.
The crimson liquid inside the glass vial pulses with an almost unnatural energy, swirling and shifting as if it has a life of its own. Even when the vial is perfectly still on the flat surface, the liquid inside seems to defy the laws of stillness—it's as though the liquid is alive, breathing.
“Redline rapidly seals open wounds by triggering localized transmutation, and the blood from the wound becomes a temporary mineral crust that will dissolve once the wound has healed.” Healer Alric continues. Ok, now this stuff has my attention!
I start to consider how I would go about stocking up before my inevitable injuries from track classes start rolling in, but then he announces that the intense pain it puts the patient through is said to rival or be worse than the original wound itself until it dissolves.
I guess that explains why it’s only used in life-or-death situations.
A couple of hours later, we claim a table on the third floor, one of the few available tables in the entire library.
After class, Sasha had called her parents, and they were more than happy to put together a few “starter” books for “the girl who saved Sasha’s life on the first day.”
When my eyes went wide with confusion at hearing that, Sasha simply winked and waved me off.
Pulling out the long list of books she gave me, I walk down the winding iron staircase to the medical section. My fingers graze the spines of each of the books in this area as I search for the texts on my list.
Combat Medicine Books:
“The Soldier’s Surgeon: Intro to Combat Trauma Surgery.”
“Battlefield Blood: Managing Trauma in the Heat of Combat.”
“Mending the Wounded: A Practical Guide for Combat Medics.”
“Triage in Crisis: Fast-Paced Medical Solutions for Combat Situations.”
“Save or Lose: Combat Injury and Stabilization Protocols.”
“Frontline First Aid: The Basics of Combat Medicine.”
Arcane Healing Books:
“The Magic of Restoration: A Beginner’s Guide to Healing Spells.”
“Mana and Medicine: The Intersection of Magic and Healing.”
“Elemental Therapies: Introduction to Healing Through Magic.”
It takes me two trips to collect every book listed—the textbooks so heavy Matt could come here for his workout if the gym ever shuts down.
Finally setting the last books onto the pile in front of me, I feel like I’m setting up for some kind of epic battle. The book wall I’ve made is almost high enough that I can’t see Sasha sitting across from me.
Flipping open the first book on the Combat Medicine list: “The Soldier’s Surgeon: Intro to Combat Trauma Surgery.” I’m surprised by the cracking of the binding and the feel of the crisp pages under my fingers.
“How do these still look and smell brand new? They must be ancient,” I say, more to myself than to Sasha, but she responds nonetheless.
“They're spelled, of course! It’s actually really easy if you want me to teach you. I have most of the ingredients in my room, but we would have to dig up one, no—let’s go with two—worms. We only need five worm hearts, so one worm should be enough, but if one is damaged, we would need to restart the entire process, or else it won’t work. ”
“Yeah, I don’t have many books, but it would be cool to learn!”
“That’s okay, I have plenty. But I’ll stop distracting you now, so you can get back to studying.”
I only make it a few chapters before I’m excessively blinking, my eyes feeling far too heavy for me to fully focus.
Sasha catches my bored expression and chuckles softly. “It’s not exactly light reading, but you’ll get through it.”
“I guess I don’t have any other choice,” I mutter, half-laughing. “I was hoping for something that didn’t make me want to jump from the roof.”
She leans back in her chair, her fingers tapping the edge of one of the arcane healing books she picked up from my stack. “I mean, it’s the basics. The real stuff comes later when we start practicing in the labs.”
I nod but can’t help feeling a bit overwhelmed already.
Forcing myself to power through the dense technical jargon, I keep reading. This isn’t going to be something I can breeze through in one sitting—it’s going to take a lot of time.
After getting through a few really long, excruciatingly tedious chapters, I finally admit defeat. My head is aching, and I’ve reread the same page three times because the words keep blurring together.
I glance over at Sasha, hoping she’s in desperate need of a study break too, but of course not.
She’s casually flipping through the pages of her arcane healing books, completely absorbed in the material.
The way she scans each page so effortlessly, she looks like she’s reading a gossip magazine poolside, not studying the complex methods of ‘The brewing and application of magical treatments in their most dangerous forms’.
“How are you managing?” I ask, trying for any distraction.
Sasha looks up from her book and grins. “Not bad. Aetheric Mending is even more interesting than I thought. The injuries that we’ll learn how to treat with Spell Casting will cut out weeks, no, months of healing time.” She looks down at the book and then back up at me.
“You okay? You’re looking a little drained.”
“Yeah, I really wish I picked all of this up as well as you do, though. I’ve read a few chapters, and I’m not even sure I remember any of it.”
“You’ll get there,” she assures me, and I can hear the confidence in her voice. “You are too stubborn to fail.”
She’s not wrong. So rather than giving in to my desire to bolt from the library, I pull on that stubbornness and begin making notes in my notebook of key points as I read.
Why can’t I just find a book with notes my professor already wrote when he was a student like Harry did?
I could use some of that kind of magic in my life right about now.
After four more hours of studying, my brain is fried, but I think I am starting to understand the terminology. I’ve drawn a few diagrams of stitch patterns and am going to pick up a suture kit and some bananas when we are in town this weekend so I can start practicing.
“Thanks again for all of your help! I know I am the worst student you’ve ever had, but I appreciate you!”
She snorts, “Well, considering the only other students I’ve had were teddy bears and dolls who refused to sip tea properly, I can confidently say you are not the worst.”
As we walk to meet the guys in the dining hall, I can’t help but stir the pot a bit.
“So, speaking of Antonio—” I begin, casually throwing her a sidelong glance. “How’s that going?”
Sasha freezes mid-step, letting out a little cough. “Wait? Who? What? What do you mean?” She’s trying way too hard to sound casual, but you would have to be blind to miss the way they act around each other.
“You know. Antonio. The guy you ditched me for last weekend to hang out with at the table, and the one you look for every night when we walk into the dining hall for dinner. About six-foot, light brown hair, always smiling, but it’s even bigger when he’s looking at you. Ring any bells?”
Her cheeks flush a little, and she starts walking a little faster, “We’re just friends.”
“Friends, huh?” I can’t hold back the laugh that escapes. “So you’re saying you haven’t noticed how he looks at you?” I nudge her with my elbow, my grin widening as I see her face turn even redder.
She huffs, but there’s a flicker of something in her eyes, like she’s trying to pretend she isn’t getting excited. “Okay, sure. But, you know, I’m not like you, Annalise. I don’t know how to talk to guys… like that.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Like what? He’s just a guy. And he clearly already likes you. So why not go out on a date and see where it goes?”
Sasha rolls her eyes at me, but there’s a tiny smile tugging at her lips, like she’s trying not to admit I’m right. “You’re impossible.”
We round the corner, and the dining hall doors swing open. I spot Matt, James, and Antonio immediately at “our” table. Matt's gesturing wildly as he tells some animated story, and James is laughing too loudly at whatever it is.
We reach the table and drop our bags, me with a little less care than I probably should have for books.
Matt immediately looks up, flashing a wide grin. “There you are! I was giving you another thirty seconds before I came to the library and threw you over my shoulder,” he says dramatically, passing the plates of overflowing food that he already got for us.
“You would not,” Sasha says, with certainty.
“Clearly, you have not known him long enough yet. He totally would,” I say.
“And have, several times in fact.” Matt declares, too proud of himself. “Remember that one time after the football game?”
“Shut your mouth, right now Mattey. Living that night once was enough!” I laugh.