Chapter 2
Morning arrived quicker than I had hoped, but thanks to my heka, I felt like I had returned from a long holiday.
I was already out the door and made my way through the cobbled streets of Rivermond before my mother woke up, stopping only at the bakery for some fresh scones for my lunch break.
The smell of warm bread and butter lingered in the air, mixing with the faint scent of damp earth from the early morning mist.
Rivermond was a town built on centuries of history, its narrow streets winding like forgotten paths through time.
Old stone buildings, their walls covered in ivy, lined the roads, and the sound of the town waking up echoed through the quiet alleys.
The chatter of market vendors setting up, the distant clink of a horse-drawn cart, and the creak of wooden shutters opening mixed together in an all too familiar hum.
I walked quickly, avoiding the bustling crowd that filled the streets.
The sun shone brightly, casting long shadows along the old streets as I hurried toward the surgery.
When I reached the front garden and opened the gate, the door to the surgery was ajar.
Cold air brushed the back of my neck. I had been so tired the night before that I couldn’t remember if I’d locked it.
I pushed the door open and caught the soft sound of movement inside.
I stopped, fingers still curled around the knob, breath shallow as I leaned forward to look.
Only then did my shoulders loosen. Doctor Marris was standing by the workbench, his back turned toward me.
But the relief was short-lived. The tight set of his shoulders and the balled fists at his side made me want to turn back and call in sick.
But it was too late, he had already heard me.
He turned around slowly, the piece of parchment from last night’s burn patient now pinched between his thumb and pointer finger, as if he were holding a disgusting insect.
His eyes locked on mine; his mouth drew into a thin, disapproving line.
“I don’t know if I should be angry or worried that you are taking it upon yourself again to treat patients without my knowledge or consent,” he spat out. “Must I remind you that it is strictly forbidden to use magic?” he huffed.
“I am sorry, I…—“ I hated that my voice was barely a whisper.
“I am not finished. You are not only endangering yourself and your mother, but me, my surgery, and the work I do! I have taken you in with no medical expertise after your mother got sick and I am paying you a fair wage for your help, but don’t think for one second that I will tolerate this behavior of yours indefinitely,” he rambled on.
I wanted to tell him that what he was paying me barely covered the cost of living most months and that he would be making next to no money if it weren’t for me, but there was no point in trying to fight him on this. I needed the job and I needed his silence about my heka even more.
“Are you even listening to me, Maelis?” Dr. Marris asked sharply. “Our arrangement is quite clear: You use your heka as I see fit, and in return, I treat your mother’s condition and keep a roof over your head.”
I kept my eyes on the floor, tracing a thin crack in the tiles.
“Yes, of course Dr. Marris, you are right. I don’t want to cause trouble. I am sorry for disappointing you, I simply wanted to help. Forgive me.”
The words tasted like ash on my tongue. ‘Help,’ what a bitter irony.
I could mend flesh, close wounds, even pull someone back from death’s edge, yet my own mother slipped further away with every passing day.
The power that could save strangers’ lives was useless where it mattered most, and that truth burned deeper than any scolding he could give me.
He huffed, turning around to inspect the contents of his medical bag.
“You are too soft, Maelis. It will be your downfall one day. I just know it.”
If only he knew that his warnings came a decade too late.
* * *
Fifteen minutes later, we left the dark surgery and stepped into the sunlit street.
The air was fresh and crisp in the shade, but in the sun I could feel the remnants of summer lingering on my skin.
We made our way toward the center of the town, me struggling to pull the wooden cart with Dr. Marris’s medical bag and some other supplies over the cobblestones.
We worked for the best part of the morning, visiting house after house, a never-ending stream of people in need of medical attention.
We prescribed ointments for an itching scalp, changed the bandages on a few minor injuries, gave advice to mothers whose children were sick with a fever, and set a dislocated shoulder.
None of these cases needed my heka, and I was glad for it.
The less I had to use my heka, the better.
It was almost time for my lunch break when we stepped outside and said our goodbyes to the last patient.
The marketplace buzzed with life as the warm autumn sun bathed the streets in a golden glow.
The air was thick with the scent of ripe apples, freshly baked bread, and the earthy aroma of spices.
Vendors called out their wares, their voices mingling in a chaotic symphony of barter and trade.
I fixed my eyes on Dr. Marris’ back. He had stopped to talk to several people, former patients who had been ‘magically’ healed by his pills and tinctures.
Nobody seemed to wonder why his success rate was perfect.
Well, nearly perfect, because even though my heka was strong, the Fates ultimately had the last word.
Their reasons for denying my requests were unclear to me, but not every patient could be saved, and those cases were the hardest ones to face.
Dr. Marris was still talking to a wide-eyed woman who recounted how he had saved her from a bad fever the previous winter, him clearly enjoying the adoration on her face.
While Dr. Marris basked in the praise of his former patients and was his usual charming self, I leaned back on the cart and searched in my bag for the water bottle I had packed that morning.
An ear-piercing scream cut through the air, shooting straight for my stomach. The familiar twinge of panic and horror instantly made me queasy, setting my nervous system on fire. Bracing a shaking hand on my chest, I inhaled deeply. My heka stirred beneath my skin, wanting to be set loose.
Calm down; I need to calm down.
“What is going on? Is anyone in need of a doctor?” Dr. Marris pushed past me, nearly knocking me over in the process, my water bottle crashing to the ground and shattering on the cobblestones.
“Get out of my way, Maelis. Can’t you see that my expertise is needed?” he growled, his charming side completely forgotten.
I forced my eyes to remain on the floor, where the small rivulets of water were now disappearing between the cracks in the road.
“I am sorry, I didn’t see you were coming my way. I will be more careful in the future. Forgive me,” I rushed out.
He nodded curtly and pressed on. With his chest puffed up like a rooster ready to initiate his mating dance, Dr. Marris sauntered through the crowd.
This was his moment to shine, and it looked like he was fully prepared to make the most of it.
Bending down to pick up the shards of glass from my bottle, I momentarily lost track of the doctor in the mob.
Disposing of the glass shards in my hand in a nearby waste bucket, I tried to spot the source of the commotion.
I made sure to keep my breathing under control as I made my way in the direction Dr. Marris had disappeared.
Crowds didn’t scare me, but I knew I had to be vigilant, pickpockets were everywhere and I was carrying valuable tinctures and medicine.
I spotted Dr. Marris entering a pub and called out to him, but the cacophony of shouts and murmurs of the crowd drowned out my voice.
Not much happened in Rivermond these days, so any kind of distraction was welcome.
The scene in front of us promised to be a great bit of gossip for the tittle-tattles and pub crawlers.
I pushed forward at a brisker pace, not wanting to further upset Dr. Marris, when a strong hand gripped my upper arm and pulled me back violently.
I nearly lost my balance and only managed to stay upright because the person I had stumbled into shoved me away with an angry look on their face.
Before I could apologize, they had already turned their backs on me and were once again focused on the pub.
For a second, I had forgotten the reason for my near collision, but it came rushing back when someone yanked on my arm yet again.
My eyes shot up, I was expecting to see some thug trying to rip my leather bag from my shoulder.
But instead, a cleanly shaven young man with reddish hair and eerily light green eyes stared back at me.
His features were sharp, almost too symmetrical, but lacked any signs of emotion.
As if someone had brought a beautiful painting to life.
We stared at each other for a few heartbeats, his fingertips painfully digging into my arm. My initial surprise vanished and was quickly replaced by unease.
“Please, sir, let go of me,” I said calmly and tried to wiggle free from his firm grip. But the man did not budge, he was simply staring at me, as if he wasn’t even aware he was doing it.
Dr. Marris called my name and I turned slightly to look over to where I had last seen him. The man’s grip on me tightened and when I turned back toward him, his face was only inches away from mine.
“The God of Wisdom has called for you. He’s called your name across the veil. The prophecy stirs and so must you. Come with me. There’s no more time to pretend you’re ordinary,” the man whispered.