Our only limits are our doubts
Clang! The glass shattered, pieces flying everywhere. The hobo was originally grinning, but once he realized that Flynn was unscathed, his expression twisted into pure terror. "Mage!" he screamed, scrambling backwards, back against the wall. "You could've just said you didn't need help," Flynn shrugged, shaking the shattered glass off his body, it was impossible for normal glass to do any damage to him. "Spare me, I didn't know that you're a mage," the hobo said, shriveled up. Controlling the boiling rage that was demanding him to rip the man apart, the rage was replaced with pure pity.
"Pathetic, you still have a perfectly health body, but you choose to lay here all day, relying on stealing innocent people to feed your growling stomach," Flynn said, looking at the man with disdain. "Shut up mage, you were born with a silver spoon in your mouth, and you still chose to lecture me when you know nothing about me," the man lashed back, forgetting that Flynn could kill him with a single finger. "If that is really what you think, you are truly helpless," Flynn said, walking away. From the distance, he could here the man shouting, "You mages are the parasites of the century, treating us Earthlings like we're an inferior being! You exploit us, causing us to lose our homes and jobs."
Flynn silently walked away, not saying a single word. He did go a little bit too far with his words, but the man's shouts did much more damage to Flynn than any broken bottle could've done. Was he wrong wanting to help the more underprivileged? Pondering whether his principles were severely flawed, the walk home felt like an instant. The house his family lived in was very underwhelming considering his parent's statuses. It wasn't small or in a bad stage, just a simple and plain five story flat in a middle class neighborhood. Swiping his keycard on the door's scanner, he sighed. It was another mentally exhausting day, mostly from the incident in the underground pass.
Grabbing a stale piece of bread from the table, he headed outdoors once again. Conducting a tiny amount of mana through the bread, it softened up quite a bit. Walking down the road for about four blocks, he could see a long queue. It was always like this, since his mother, Yen, never rejected anyone who came to her for help, even if they were penniless. The clinic was clean, but full of different documents that his mother always failed to stack up properly. Slipping through the crowded doorway, Flynn saw his mother, who was healing a heavily wounded man. With a pearl shaped silver catalyst in her hand, her mother adeptly fixed the man, with wounds closing at a visible speed. The man fell unconscious due to the stamina drained from forcefully speeding up the recovery. Signaling the nurse to bring the slumbering man away, Yen wiped the sweat of her forehead.
Noticing Flynn, her face lit up instantly. "I was wondering when you will come," she said, as she began working on the next patient. "How many?" Flynn said. "460," his mother replied, as she began to diagnose the patient. "You are going to overwork yourself," Flynn said, as he saw the long list of patients that still needed help. "You know I can't just watch them suffer," Yen replied with a smile. Lowering his voice Flynn said, "You know that some of them are only taking advantage of your kindness right? A portion of them definitely could afford normal clinics," Flynn said. "I'm a doctor, my only job is to save the sick and injured, perhaps one day you'll understand," Yen replied, as another patient recovered fully.
The hobo's words appeared once again, ringing in his mind. Smirking in his heart, perhaps the man never knew how much effort Flynn and his family put towards Earthlings, and how some Earthlings exploit his mother's kindness. Flynn pulled a chair next to his mother. Sitting down, he searched through the desk's drawers. "Third one, top down," Yen breifly said, as she focused on a more serious injury. Opening the drawer, he found the thing that he was looking for, a plain silver ring with some engravings on it. It was a very cheap catalyst that is massed produced, usually used by novice healing mages. Signaling the nurse to also lead some patients to him, Flynn slipped the ring onto his index finger.
A working class man that looked to be in his late-thirties was brought to Flynn. Seeing that he was merely a teenager, the man said, "Have you been trained before?" "You do like your cigarettes, do you? Doesn't your throat itch every time you breathe, a lingering feeling burning your lungs every night you sleep?" Flynn said, grabbing the man's wrists. The man instinctively tried to pull back his hand, but a mage's grasp was simply to powerful. The ring on Flynn's finger lit up, as the man's throat began to itch like crazy. "Bear with me for a while, it'll be over in a quick second," Flynn said. For a whole ten seconds, the man felt like he wanted to claw his own throat out. As the feeling subsided, he was going to curse at the obnoxious teenager, but Flynn interrupted him before he could say anything. "You've recovered fully, but anymore cigarettes could lead to the relapse of perhaps more severe conditions," Flynn said, sending the man on his way.
Gulping down some spit, the man realized that his sore throat had been fully cured. Thanking Flynn., he left. "You are too petty," Yen scolded her son with a volume that only a mage could hear. "What do you mean?" asked Flynn, playing dumb. "You know what I mean you little rascal. The easiest anesthetic spell could've easily numb the throat," Yen said, pinching Flynn's thigh under the desk. Almost jumping up from his chair, Flynn replied, "I'm an untrained teenager, how could I have known that?" "The money I spent on you has all been wasted, I should've asked the storks for a different child," Yen joked. With Flynn helping, the list was quickly being mowed down. Before the sunset, the two finally managed to finish the day's work. "Good job everyone," Yen said, praising the staff for their hard work. Within ten minutes, everyone had left the clinic, leaving only Flynn and Yen locking the doors and packing up Yen's stuff.
As Yen was packing her stuff, she asked Flynn, "What do you want for dinner? Should I cook?" Reminded of the grotesque things that his mother cooked, Flynn couldn't help but to gag. Her mother devoted her life to medicine, so her culinary skills weren't exactly the best. "You've already done so much today, I'll cook dinner," Flynn replied, before his mother made up her mind. Flynn was actually skilled in cooking, since it was a hobby of his. He was half forced to learn how to cook since he would've definitely died if he could only survive on his mother's cooking. Arriving back home, Yen went to take a bath while Flynn searched the fridge for any ingredients he could use.
Pulling out some leftover bacon, unripe tomatoes, and some sad looking onions, Flynn hummed as he forcefully ripened the tomatoes by blasting them with organic magic. The green tomatoes instantly turned bright red, which Flynn diced up with the onions. Putting a pot and a pan onto the stove, he started to boil a large pot of salted water. Frying the leftover bacon, the smokey smell of caramelized meat made his mouth water. Grabbing a tube of tomato paste from the cupboard, Flynn added a little bit to the bacon. When the tomato paste browned, Flynn added the diced onions and tomatoes to the pot. He simultaneously grabbed a box of spaghetti, which he emptied half a box into the boiling water. Crushing the tomatoes with his spatula, Flynn watched the spaghetti soften up in the boiling water. Turning the heat to the lowest setting, the sauce simmered, waiting for the pasta to be throughly cooked. "Al dente," Flynn said, slurping up a strand of cooked spaghetti.
Mixing the spaghetti and some pasta water into the sauce, he brought the pan over to the dining table. He sat on the couch, looking at the white steam that was slowly rising from the pasta. After five minutes or so, Yen finally came downstairs. "I could smell it upstairs," she said, looking at the mouthwatering spaghetti. Flynn and his mother enjoyed the sour and savory meal, delicious and satisfying. Finishing his plate, Flynn headed upstairs for a nice steamy shower. Flynn always cooked while her mom did the dishes. After a hot and steamy shower, Flynn leaped onto his bed, stretching as he felt his exhaustion melt away. The bed was always so comforting after a long day, slowly luring him to sleep. But just before he could drift of into dreamland, the holophone on his wrist rang.