I've never done triage of this size before. Before this day, we'd have the occasional sickness spread through the town, and there's only so much one can do to heal such diseases. In those times, I'd only need to prevent or cure a disease and then heal any damage that was done, and I'd do this with other clerics at the temple. I would then go to the major sources of water in the city-state, purifying the water that was routinely drawn. I was rarely fatigued, since there were plenty of clerics around to help, not to mention paladins.
My first patient came early in the morning, brought into the temporary infirmary via a makeshift stretcher. The man was babbling incoherently as he clutched his stomach tightly. He grimaced in pain as his two fellow soldiers set him down, then rushed out to their posts. I reached for a bucket of heated water that I had purified, rinsed some pieces of cloth, then started cleaning around his wound. I calmed him down enough to finally see the wound, peeling his arms away.
The cut went far into his belly, almost piercing the skin of his back. His intestines were hanging out of his torn flesh, oozing blood and partially digested meal onto his uniform and the cot. Dirt littered the cuts, turning into a reddish mud. I clutched my own stomach, nauseated from the sight and the stench, and ran out of the tent.
I felt so embarrassed as I knelt over, throwing up my breakfast on the side of the road. A guard rushed over, overly concerned, and helped me up while asking questions. I felt myself blush as I told him of the scene in the tent, but he was reassuring - he'd told me that the same happened to him many years ago on his first watch. I asked him what had happened, but was stopped by the pained look in his face. I didn't pry any farther as I came to my senses again, knowing that the man on the cot desperately needed my help, lest we lose him to the afterlife.
With my stomach empty, it was considerably easier to see the sight again. I started cleaning out all the mud and fecal matter from his body, cleansing the area of all disease and poisons. I then carefully arranged his organs and skin back to their proper places before clearing my mind and focusing on my healing spells. Pouring my energy into my right hand, I concentrated on the healing power flowing out of my hand and into his body. My eyes were closed so tightly that they hurt, my brow furrowed with wishes and desires of rejuvenating life.
A loud gasp emerged, and I jumped back, startled with the sudden noise. The man on the cot was alive and breathing, his eyes wide open in shock. He looked to me, and started whispering.
"I'm... I'm alive," he gasped.
I held his hand in mine - his life force had returned, his hand warm and full of energy.
"Yes, you are. Do you know where you are?"
He nodded. "I'm in Waypoint, I'm a member of the city guard."
"Yes, that's correct. Did you need anything to eat or drink? I can get one of the guard..."
He squeezes my hand tighter.
"No, I'm fine. I just want to lay here for a while, will you stay with me?"
I nod, pulling up a stool and sitting by his side.
"The guards thought that they had lost you," I tell the man.
"I thought I was lost myself. I only saw a blur before the being attacked me. I swung at the blur, but it was too fast for me, and it tore open my belly," he whispers as he looks down where the grievous wound used to be. All that remained now were the last remnants of mud and the bright pinkish/white of new flesh.
"Don't worry, you're here now. What you desperately need now is rest. Even though you're mended, the skin and muscles are new and will need time to regain their strength."
I continue to hold his hand as he falls asleep, retiring to his dreams.
---
The man doesn't rise from his slumber until hours later. In between healing minor wounds from other members of the guard, I rest a cool cloth on his head and listen for his heartbeat and breathing. Upon awaking, he immediately reaches for a mug of water that I set by his cot.
"How are you doing," I ask as I check his wound and head cloth.
"Really thirsty, but I'll be fine," he says as he finishes the mug.
"I think your wounds will be fine, I can help you to your home if you need assistance," I offer.
He nods, then sits up carefully, nursing his stomach.
"That would be wonderful,... um,... what's your name?"
"Marion."
"Ah, Marion. Beautiful name. I'm Gregory. Listen, I'd like for you to join our family for dinner tonight."
"Oh, I couldn't. I wouldn't want to impose," I start stammering.
"Nonsense, it's the least I could do to repay you for saving my life."
---
"And that's why Kaladis watches over marriage ceremonies. When two beings make a commitment to spend the rest of their lives together, we consider that to be one of the most important promises that a person can make. Without the sanctity of that promise, families and communities would fall apart. It's what helps mothers and fathers take care of their kids, just like how your mom and dad care for you."
Korina, Gregory's eldest daughter, sat on my lap near the fire. Hines, her younger brother, was nursing from Gregory's wife, Alyssa. I had started telling the story of Kaladis and the Knot Binders after a savory meal of roasted quail and bread. Gregory offered a small amount of mead during and after the meal, and I accepted it graciously, remembering my short yet memorable times with Prudence.
"So you do marriage ceremonys then, Marion," Korina questioned.
"Not yet, but I will in time. I'm still learning the ways of Kaladis as well as being a cleric. I'm currently questing with a group of paladins. By going out into the world and helping people, we can learn more about our world, ourselves, and our relationship with the gods."
"Will you be the Knot Binder at my marriage, Marion," Korina giggles, her eyes bright with glee.
"Once you're old enough, sure. You'll be able to find me at Point of Origin," I smile at Korina.
"Are you married?"
"I will be soon, Korina. My betrothed is a Paladin, off on his pilgrimage into the world. Once both of us are back in Point of Origin, we'll be wed."
"Do you miss him?"
I bite my lip, fighting off tears.
"Every day, Korina. Every day."
No comments:
Post a Comment