Chapter 17 The Mana Doctor
Before Celise could tell Elias about her shameful condition, the door to the infirmary opened, making a loud creaking noise. The sound interrupted her thoughts. She jumped and looked up. Elias turned around as well.
A tall, thin man entered the infirmary. His white-blond hair was tied in a healthy ponytail that fell in a thick mane down his back. By his pale, snowy features and tall stature, Celise guessed he was from Dresengard, like Mr. Talisworth, the horsemaster.
This healer was a bit younger than Mr. Talisworth, if she had to guess, despite his silvery locks.
He had a long, oval face with a sensitive chin and clear forehead.
He looked like he had just rolled out of bed.
His face was puffy from sleep. He wore a cream-colored jacket buttoned down the front, though on closer inspection, it seemed the buttons weren’t lined up with the right holes, so the whole coat fit a bit crooked.
The doctor didn’t seem aware of it. Beneath the jacket, he wore gray trousers and a pair of smart black shoes.
On his shoulder, he bore the winged symbol of a sanctioned healer of the realm.
Around his neck, he wore a long cord strung with a dozen coin-shaped medallions, each one shined a different color, from fiery copper to opalescent blue.
The medallions drew Celise’s eye. She gazed at their glittering colors, curious.
When the doctor saw Elias, he straightened up, squared his shoulders and saluted.
“Lord High Commander."
“At ease, Forrest,” Elias said, his hands still clasped behind his back, his chest wide and shoulders straight. “As I recall, you were discharged a year ago.”
“Force of habit, Commander, and one of respect as well,” the medic grinned, dropping his rigid posture.
He rubbed the back of his neck bashfully.
Then he noticed Celise sitting on a chair at the front of the room.
He did a double-take, noting the dark stains across the front of her dress.
He pushed a pair of glasses up the bridge of his nose.
“I assume that’s not your blood staining the front of your dress,” he said with unexpected humor. “Otherwise, you wouldn’t be sitting so calmly in that chair.”
“It’s not,” she said. Despite her composure, she felt far from calm.
“This is Lady Celise Dhastel,” Elias interrupted. “My newly betrothed.”
The medic blinked twice, the only sign of surprise he gave at the news.
Then he turned back to Celise. “Welcome to my infirmary, young lady. My name is Dr. Drandem Forrest. Now, I’ve heard a strange story circling about the halls at this late hour.
The servant who woke me said you were attacked by a daemon, of all things. ”
“That is correct. We were attacked on the grounds,” Elias answered for her. “The wound is on her forearm. I wiped off what I could, but it pains her.”
“I see,” the doctor said. A flash of surprise passed over his face. Then, with an ironic tone, he said to Celise, “That must not have been very pleasant.”
“It really wasn’t. Lord Elias called it a ‘yellow tumbler,” she said helpfully.
“He did, hm?” The healer’s eyes flickered to the commander. “Yellow?”
“Seems like it.”
“Well, that’s good news at least. How a daemon got on the grounds is more concerning.”
“A matter I will investigate shortly,” Elias said in a foreboding voice. “I’ve sent Kiran with his squad to search the estate.”
“Do you think there might be more?”
“I think we can’t take that chance. You might want to keep an assistant on standby for the rest of the night, in case another guest is attacked.”
Dr. Forrest nodded, a concerned frown wrinkling his brow.
Then the medic stepped over to Celise’s chair.
He stood before her, his eyes sweeping over her ruined dress to focus on her arm, where the majority of the acidic blood stained her sleeve.
His glasses gleamed, and Celise realized the doctor was using them to inspect her wound. What he saw there, she couldn’t guess.
Forrest reached up and tapped the side of his frames twice, a glow of mana encircling his hand as he did so. Then he looked at her arm again.
Celise stared at his glasses curiously. By the vibrant blue and yellow frames, she guessed they were shined.
“Have you ever visited a mana doctor before?” the doctor asked as he looked her over.
“No, I haven’t.”
“Well, you’re in luck, because I happen to be one of the best in the kingdom. I know Elias very well—we served together in the Abyss. I’ve even consulted with the royal family a few times.” Forrest smiled at her, his voice warm and gentle. She realized he was trying to put her at ease.
Admittedly, she was very nervous.
“The royal family? Really?” she asked.
“Yes.”
Celise was surprised. She looked at Elias, but he stood stoically with his hands behind his back.
Forrest drew her attention once again.
“Now please, let’s move you to the examination table. This won’t take long. Will you remove your dress for me and put these clothes on? You can change just over here behind this screen.”
Celise felt a little shy. She stood up and hesitated with the flower in her hand.
Elias offered to take it from her, and she handed it over reluctantly, certain she wouldn’t see the precious bloom again.
Then she took the plain white gown offered by the mana doctor and slipped behind a screen at the side of the room.
With some amount of struggle, she managed to untie her bodice and unbutton her tattered silk dress.
She kicked off Heather’s ill-fitting shoes.
She would be happy never to see those slippers again.
Celise folded Elias’s greatcoat and placed it on a chair behind the changing screen.
Then she dropped her gray ballgown in a heap on the floor.
Really, it should be burned. She slid on the cotton medical gown in its place.
It was several sizes too large, of course, and spilled around her ankles, but she much preferred it to the bloody dress.
When she re-emerged, she caught the flicker of Elias’s gaze. But when she looked up, she found him standing at the front of the room with his hands clasped behind his back, bent studiously over a table full of shined tools and instruments. The dahlia rested in one of the buttonholes of his vest.
Perhaps she had imagined his look.
Dr. Drandem Forrest escorted her deeper into the room behind a hanging burlap curtain. There, he revealed a raised metal table. As she watched, he draped a simple sheet of undyed linen cloth over the hard surface.
“I must apologize in advance for the cold metal,” he said. “I’ll try to be as quick as possible.”
She nodded. He offered her a hand and helped her into a sitting position on the table. Then he turned on an overhead lamp and moved it directly above her. She could feel the heat from the gas lamp billowing against her face.
Her heart quickened. She knew nothing could be seriously wrong with her, but she still felt nervous.
Celise waited patiently as Drandem took a special salve from the shelf, wetted a cloth and wiped down the reddish marks on her arm.
The stinging, itching feeling eased, then disappeared altogether.
It was a relief. Long cuts from the rose garden left bloody trails against her tanned olive skin. He placed a few bandaids over the cuts.
Then Drandem turned her arm over, inspecting the inside of her wrist and elbow. He tapped his glasses over the right lens and looked again.
“I’m just checking your mana channels,” he said. “Were you sickly as a child?”
Celise frowned. She stared at the doctor for a beat of silence, unable to comprehend his question.
“Pardon?”
“Were you often ill as a child?”
“No, not that I remember. What do you mean by ‘mana channels?’” She held back from stating the obvious—she was a dunslug.
She didn’t have mana. Her eyes darted to the burlap curtain.
Elias was standing at the front of the infirmary, only about twenty feet away.
Despite the curtain that separated them, he could overhear their conversation easily.
The doctor didn’t seem to notice her trepidation.
His eyes passed over Celise’s body curiously, his interest purely medical.
Then he said, “I only ask because your mana body is damaged. This kind of deterioration is usually caused by extreme conditions, such as famine, childhood illness or malnutrition. In fact, if I didn’t know any better, I would think . . . well, it's unlikely, but . . . .”
Drandem hesitated. Celise felt a bit pale.
“What?” she asked, her mouth dry with nerves.
Oblivious to her discomfort, Dr. Forrest continued, “I would like to run more tests, if that’s alright. It won’t take but a minute. Did you grow up in Sera’naya by any chance? The desert kingdom has extreme climates. Perhaps you survived a famine there?”
“No, I didn’t.”
“I see. Your coloring is similar to their southern desert tribes.”
“I really don’t know anything about that. I’ve never traveled to Sera’naya.”
“Really? That’s very curious.”
Dr. Forrest gazed at her closely, as though trying to peer beneath her skin, and Celise glanced away. She knew the doctor was inspecting her mana body using his glasses, but it felt more like he was inspecting her pores.
“So then . . . I have mana channels?” Celise asked.
“You do, but they are . . . underdeveloped. I’ll take a closer look once I treat your wound.
” The doctor gave her a kind smile. “It looks like the daemon left you with a slight infection. I will cleanse your blood and remove the toxins. You’re lucky it was only a yellow beastie. They can get a lot meaner.”
“Thank you,” Celise murmured. She definitely didn’t want to run into anything “meaner” than a yellow tumbler!
The doctor selected one of the shined, circular amulets from his lanyard. Celise noticed a curling, spiral design etched into the metal. The lines seemed intentional, as though carved to direct the flow of wind or water.