The Ways of a Healer

A shade of beautiful red, hesitant lips and a flutter of feathers plagues my mind as I get lost looking at the huge ensemble of books lining the Royal Healer's office.

Well Macy and Delia had warned me that the Prince might be a sight for sore eyes but I definitely won't let that interfere with my decision-making skills! I think, smiling to myself.

It has been a week since I last met him, our next meeting is tomorrow, in the evening. I have to come up with an answer to give him, a way to proceed forward.

So far, the only communication I have received is from the King, telling me that none of this plan would be made public until I give them a confirmation about my intention to marry the Prince. 

Macy and Delia had let me know that this was a necessary step in order to ensure my safety. If only they knew that someone has already attempted to murder me, which is why I am in this position in the first place. Unfortunately, due to my own lack of multi-tasking skills, I have made no progress on figuring out who the attempted killer was. How could I, it could be anyone! 

While I keep the Prince waiting, I might as well start shortlisting suspects.

"Hey there, girlie." I feel a tap of folded paper on my cheek and I frown. 

The Royal Healer, who I imagined to be some sort of a fairy godmother was nothing like such. She might be more tyrannic than the King. 

"I hope you are zoning out trying to figure out the method to treat Sarcosepsis." she says, raising her pointy nose at me. Her almond-esque like eyes keep their sight on me through her half-moon glasses, waiting for an answer.

"Miss Larivel, I told you, Sarcosepsis would need a weeklong, daily dosage of moonskin sap, finished off with life-force treatment, twice during the week." I say, providing her the textbook answer.

"And what if I wanted to be rid of the disease in a day?"

I look at her like she has just asked the impossible, which she has. "... you can't be." 

"I can do it, it's perfectly possible. Tell me how it one can accomplish it. This is the bare minimum you should know." She tells me curtly.

Sarcosepsis is one of many diseases that was borne from the arrival of Malevolents on Earth, like many other maladies. Your flesh develops infections from the inside and your skin starts bruising up and turning black on those spots, on the outside.

Although the survival rates are much better now with return of Medical science and constantly pioneering Healer research, the treatment procedure is still long. The moonskin sap, taken in daily not only helps to fight the infection but to open up channels in the skin through to the flesh and the life-force we inject in through our palms helps to disintegrate and destroy rotting flesh right under the skin, while putting a protective barrier on surrounding cells till the infection subsides. Naturally, the moonskin takes some time to work. The sap needs to make its way through the system, unlike the life-force. Without it, the treatment cannot be performed. So the answer to the Royal Healer's question is - no, it is impossible.

But I hesitate to tell her that and she wastes no time picking up on the fact that I do not know the answer to her question. 

"Well, you know what your homework is, Miss Garari." she tells me, fixing her glasses. "Get me the answer by the next class." 

"I gave you the answer from what I have learned." I try to argue. "I have even performed this procedure twice or thrice in my life on affected individuals, when I was in training." 

"Miss Garari, I need you to understand that marrying the Prince will make you a princess and possibly a future Queen but no amount of royal make-up will ever change the fact that you are a Healer." 

That somehow rubs me wrong. 

"What are you insinuating, Miss Larivel?" I ask her, keeping my tone flat. 

"I am insinuating that you should stop thinking this is some fairytale, Miss Garari. This is a political marriage, one meant to uplift the position of Healer's in society. Something like this has never been attempted before." Miss Larivel rises, her graying hair fiercely bouncing behind her. She looks at me like I have personally offended her entire bloodline. 

"Do you really want the people to feel like the face of this movement is an incompetent Healer? The people of this New Earth will never accept that. Tell me, do you want to bring about the change or are you just happy that you will live a life of spoils here on out?"

I bite my lip at that. With her words, fragments of my past life start coming back to me. The endless toil, day till night. Barely enough to eat. No respect in society. Wishing every day to either die or disappear. Did I really forget all of that with one smile from a Prince?

I want to tell her. I want to. That I want to bring change for the sake of all healers. That she is wrong.

But even I know that she is right.

I was swayed. Swayed by how twinkling the castle is. How I have someone to answer to every beck and call of mine. How I will finally be treated as an individual worth respect once, I marry into the royal family. 

I was really ready to marry a stranger I barely knew, for all of that. 

"Miss Larivel-" I start, with a dry throat. "How did you do it?"

She shakes her head. "Well, it's hardly relevant anymore. I'd prefer-"

"I want to know. How did you accomplish what no one has before. Get appointed as a Royal Healer? A position higher than any of the Battle Angels and second only to royalty." I press. She ponders for moment on how much information she should reveal.

"It was a long time ago now... two decades and a half..." she reminisces. 

****FLASHBACK****

"Lari, can you believe it! Father agreed to it! He did!" Reynard's joy knew no bounds as he shook a very stunned Larivel back to her senses. "You're going to officially be appointed as father's primary Healer!"

Larivel was planning to allow herself a small smile but she kept her face straight. 

"Your highness," She addresses him seriously, releasing herself from his grip. "Please be mindful of your position as a Prince and mine as an unwed maiden."

"That, and secondly, it took years of hardwork as a helper in the Castle, listening to all of you Higher Angels taunt me and berate me, years of polished and perfect Healing work to get here. You shouldn't make this about yourself."

Reynard was astounded. He had no intention of taking any credit any this. This was all his dear friend Larivel's years of work after all. 

"Lari, you know I've seen you work day in and out for this. I'm just happy for you, you know." 

"Your highness, frankly speaking, I hardly see how this is a win. You know I did not want to be appointed as his majesty, Regis Oeford's personal healer." Larivel confesses, avoiding Reynard's eyes. "I asked for the position of Court Healer, the one with power to oversee Healers welfare at a high level. He appointed me as his personal healer on purpose."

"What do you mean?" Reynard didn't seem to know what Larivel was saying.

"This is a conversation you should have with your father, Prince." Larivel says, her voice quivering and tears in her eyes. The bruises on her arms, midriff and hips sting secretly, hidden under her clothes "Perhaps you'd know better then."

"What it means to be a healer."

****FLASHBACK END****

"I had to put up a fight, of course." Miss Larivel smiles at me. "But my mind had a singular focus, Miss Garai."

"Maybe I will tell you some day. It's too soon, now." She says, staring off into the distance. 

I look at her apprehensively. 

We continue our lesson in silence, studying up on some other minor ailments. There is something very calculated and detailed in her manner of teaching, like she has a lot of experience doing this before.

She flips to the next chapter in her textbook but stops once she checks her watch.

"Ah well, we're out of time. Actually over by 15 minutes." She gives her watch a small smile as opposed to giving one to me.

I just happened to read the title of the chapter before closing the book. "Ways of controlling life force channels." I keep staring because some cogs seem to turn in my head.

Miss Larivel has already started gathering her materials.

"See you next Monday then? Don't forget about the homework and perhaps, also tell me next time, What does it mean for you to be a Healer, Miss Garari?"

I am much focused on the first half of her parting words as I walk back to my chambers, clinging on to my book.

Channels of life force.

I skip dinner, earning looks of confusion and worry from Delia and Mercy but I dismiss them. I need to test out my theory in the privacy of my room.

The chambers at night are solely illuminated by the moonlight once I blow out the candles. When I let the tendrils of life force slip out of my hands, its green glow hits the frosted glass lamps and throws a flurry of fractals all across the room. It looks very hypnotizing.

When we train as healers, we are taught to bring out these tendrils and focus on concentrating its healing prowess on one point rather than it's range since increasing the distance from source to target would merely decrease efficiency. It's not a common sight to see a healer sending tendrils out to a patient across the room.

But what if I could?

It's important that a Healing life force only touches what needs to be healed because the other things in its path will be singed to a crisp via cauterization.

I eye a buttered roll kept across from the room, wrapped in a piece of tissue, saved from today's breakfast. It sits a good distance away from me, far enough, on my vanity table.

I set a task for myself to see if I can burn the roll from this distance. I hold out my palms in front of me and let the tendrils out. The green vines slowly branch out of my hand, glowing eerily in the dark as they creep out onto the canvas of air. I keep my eyes glued to the roll and the tendrils go straight, in the direction of the roll for a foot or so but then swiftly angle up and start climb towards the ceiling. I hear a zap and see a black smidge on the ceiling. My tendrils burned the plaster.

"Ah, no!" I yelp and the tendrils retract at once. 

I'm focused on concentrating the power again. What about I focus on the range now.

I close my eyes this time and open out my palms again. This time, instead of having the roll in my mind, I focus on the distance between the roll and me and sure enough, when I open my eyes, I see the tendrils swim out towards the roll. Only, they won't travel in a straight line, in one direction. They seem to branch out, lengthwise, widthwise and height wise, in all three dimensions. I watch in wonder as they make their way towards all the walls, the floors and ceilings of the chamber. 

I keep at it for a while until I finally retract them. I don't smell anything burnt so I get up to check the roll. It seems fine to me. Fresh as it was, earlier. 

I furrow my brows at the bread, check it on all sides, no signs of burning. So, my theory was incorrect then?

Frustrated, I decide to go to sleep. I have to meet with the Prince tomorrow but I need to find other theories to think about that could solve Larivel's puzzle.

I decide not to eat the roll out of spite.

The next morning, I hear Macy's frantic cries as she tries gently, but worriedly, to rouse me.

"Good morning? What's wrong?" I ask her, groggily. Rubbing my eyes.

"You don't have stomach problems, do you? Is that why you skipped dinner, Miss?" Macy stutters, clearly frantic like she's committed a war crime. 

"No, I just -" I remember the bread and shut up. "I just wanted to sleep I guess?" 

"So, you didn't get food poisoning?" She asks, still worried but much relieved now.

"No, what are you on about?" I ask, now invested.

"Well the royal chef found mold in the bread he sent out yesterday. It should have been in your rolls. I saw one on your vanity this morning, so I wondered if it made you sick or something." she says. "I almost thought I would lose my job if anything happened to you. Not that I care about my job more than you, but you get it!" she says, at a loss for words. It makes me chuckle as I get up and out of bed quickly.

"Haha, Macy. Moldy rolls you say." That one statement complete drove away my morning drowsiness as I walk over to check the roll. It looks the same to me until I rip it open and into half. 

Sure enough, it's hollow, buttered up underside is decorated with charred burn marks. 

Macy walks up to me and looks at what I'm doing.

"Oh, that's... wait, how did that happen?"

I smirk at the roll. I then smirk at Macy.

"Isn't it a good day to be a Healer, dearest." I say, patting her back.