Chapter Twenty

When I said the tent was a hub of activity, it was an understatement. People gathered around tables, some talking, some strategizing and barking out orders, others simply standing and watching. It was bustling! The number of people made my breath hitch. Why did there have to be so many in one space?

I look around, unsure who to go to or what to do. Someone must notice me standing around though, because it isn't long before a slim woman in a beige robe walks up to me, her dark hair tied in a knot at the base of her skull. 

"Hey, you," She starts. "What do you need?" Her eyes run up and down my body, sizing me up. 

I take a deep breath. The attention makes my skin crawl. "I was told to report for duty here by Lieutenant Wellsworth. My name is Amelia and I'm an apothecary."

The woman's dark features light up with realization. "Ah, the new healer! Welcome." Her dark skin practically glows as she extends a hand under the light of the orb hanging at the tent's center. I take her hand tenitively and she sakes it with vigor. "We've been needing a new healer in our unit. I can show you where you'll be stationed." With that, she leads the way out of the tent and back into the heart of the mercenary camp. 

We weave in and out of groups of people and tents, narrowly avoiding running into a few as we make our way to wherever it is that we're going. She's clearly more familiar with the layout of the camp than I am, her feet deftly guiding her to our destination. I struggle to keep up with her pace and start to fall behind. I can barely see her dip around the corner of one particularly large tent. 

As I turn to catch up with her, I stop abruptly. A familiar scent teases my nose. I have a feeling that we've arrived. Closing my eyes, I inhale deeply and almost start crying at the familiarity. Spices, herbs, and disinfectant linger in the air, meaning we're close to a medical unit of some kind. Looking around, I see my guide standing at the opening of the tent to my left, waiting for me. 

As I approach, the scent becomes stronger, almost overwhelming. Her nose is scrunched against the intense smells emanating from within. She must not spend much time around healers or their workspaces. 

The woman extends her arm, indicating the entrance, and says, "Here we are, the Third Regiment medical tent. From here you should be able to find someone who can show you the ropes." She starts to turn to leave but stops and looks back at me. "Good luck, newbie. You're gonna need it." With that, she walks away. An amused smirk highlighted her face.

I look into the tent and don't see anybody right away. I don't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing, though. Usually, an empty medical tent is a blessing from the Fates. It means no one is hurt or dying. But aren't we at war? I would expect at least one person to be injured. 

I step inside and continue to take in the sight before me. The tent top is low, but it's very long. Rows of tables are set up, covered in clean linens. Those must be where they place the injured. In the far left corner, there are small cabinets and carts lined up. Walking over, I see that the carts have various supplies on them. Knives, bandages, disinfectant. Essential first aid supplies. I look to the cabinets and reach out to open one before a voice startles me, causing me to jump slightly.

"'Ey, who da hell are ya'? Ya'r not s'posed to be 'ere." 

What did they just say? I turn and see a scruffy young man standing at the tent's entrance. His black hair is shaggy, hanging around his ears and partially covering his face. He has his hands on his hips as he squints at me. 

"Well?" He asks, tapping his foot impatiently. "Who are ya?"

"Oh! I'm sorry, I'm Amelia. I was assigned here as a healer." His accent was hard to understand, but at least that last sentence was clear. I've never heard someone speak that way before, even when we would have vendors from other areas come to the village. 

The man scratches his head, still squinting at me. "I dun know nuthin bout no new healer." Suspicion laces his voice as he approaches me. "Who sent ya, then?"

Why the hell is this guy getting so close? He's less than a foot away from me as he leans in, studying my face. I reflexively take a step back and end up bumping into the cabinets. "I-I'm from Ferencia Village, up north! I was drafted by Lieutenant Wellsworth." I hate that I stutter, but his closeness is making me nervous. I can smell the sweet lingering scent of herbs coming off of him now. He must be one of the other healers here. 

"Hmm..." He continues to stare at me. Through the mass of hair covering his eyes, I can see that they're some shade of green. Stains cover the tips of his fingers, probably from mixing and grinding herbs by hand. This guy is starting to make me feel uneasy. Finally, he takes a step back before speaking. "Ol' Welly gotcha, huh? Damn prick just the worst, int' he? 'Spose yer one o' us then." He eagerly sticks his hand out to me, his whole demeanor changing. 

Gingerly, I reach out and shake his hand. "Yeah, he's definitely a cranky one." A smile spreads across the man's face, easing my nerves some. 

"Well, 'Melia, welcome to yer new home. M' name's Marvin. Let me show ya 'round."

He quickly pulls his hand from mine and starts to walk around the tent, showing me where all of the supplies are kept. The cabinets that I had been about to open were filled with herbs, potions, and various other kinds of medication. As he talks about all of the specialty potions they have, he gets quite excited. He's practically vibrating as he talks about what some of them can do. Honestly, it's infectious. A lot of it is some pretty special stuff and I can't help but wonder what goes into it. 

After what only feels like a few minutes, a horn sounding outside stops Marvin's ramblings. "Ah, shite! S'already shift change." His features drop in disappointment. As he places the bundle of herbs he had been telling me could only be found in this region back where he got them from, he turns to the opening and motions for me to follow. "C'mon, lemme show ya where ta bunk down."

I follow him out of the tent and to a small cluster of fabric lean-to's that are a short walk away from the main medical unit. Marvin explains that the healers need to be close to the medical tent so that they can get there quickly if needed. At least I think that's what he said. After he rambled on earlier, it was easier to understand him but his accent still threw me off if I wasn't listening closely. 

He pokes his head into a tent and, apparently satisfied with the condition, he holds open the door flap for me. "Here ya go, home sweet home." 

I look inside and see a small cot in the corner and a simple writing desk lit by a lighting orb on a pedestal. It's simple but it'll work. At least I'll have a space to myself. As I walk in, Marvin still stands at the entrance. 

"Make ya'self cozy. I'll introduce ya to the rest o' tha team t'morrow. See ya in tha mornin'!" With that, he drops the flap and leaves me alone. What a strange individual.

I set my rucksack on the writing desk and sit on the cot. It's not as soft as my bed at home, but it was better than that night I spent outside while traveling. No one here has sneered at me with malice or hate, simply curiosity. Is my hope that this won't be a bad experience becoming reality? As I lay on the cot, my mind filled with the desire to connect with people on a deeper level. I quickly drifted off to sleep.