Vassal by Sterling D'Este (ebook reader computer TXT) 📕

of her first patient, one she treated without consulting other students or being told what to do by her masters at Moxous.His care had been handed to her alone, and his recovery had been one of her greatest achievements.

Thinking it a good story, one that would uplift everyone’s spirits, Alphonse felt comfortable enough to share it, though it was a bit personal.

“Healers being trained at Moxous must study for years before being tested. And tested again. And then even more after that. The art of healing is sacred and precise, and so the masters at Moxous ensure only the best practitioners receive their first set of marks.” She indicated her brow, which glowed faintly in the limited light of the cavern. It might have seemed like Alphonse was bragging, but only the truth poured from her lips.

“One of the last tasks a healer in training may receive before being granted their mark is to care for an ailing patient, of unknown illness, entirely on their own. This, of course, is more than a test, for another life hangs in the balance. And if you fail…” You didn’t just fail your studies, but another being who was relying on you for help.

“Brande was my patient. He was one of the Cabot. In Ingola, we have people who have been changed or gifted with traits unlike humans. Not many, and most of the sea-loving sort. He was one such individual and had come from one of the port cities to look for work.”

Alphonse folded her hands, eyes gazing off in the distance as she retrieved her memories of Brande. He had skin that looked wet all the time, and teeth that were sharper than normal. His fingers and toes were long and partially webbed, and his nails were sharp. He must have been a tremendous swimmer, but Cabot were not popular amongst Ingolans. And so despite all the ships and docks, he hadn’t been able to find steady work. He thought coming to a larger city like Dailion would increase his odds.

“The healers at the free healing wards across the city didn’t know what caused his illness, and so they sent him to Moxous for the masters to take a look at. Those masters must have thought his condition not so complex because he became my patient.”

At first, she had been slightly afraid of Brande. With his silky skin, shark teeth, and long, strong fingers. Eyes that blinked too much, saw too much…

But as soon as she laid her hands upon his chest and felt the pattering of his heart, she knew he was just another patient that needed healing.

“I worked with Brande day in and day out. We would start one course of treatment, and see progress, only to find him waning the next week. I studied and studiedand found every text I could on his kind. On Cabot.” Sadly, there had been very little written. It seemed not many cared about the health and welfare of Cabot in Ingola. The few texts she had found were mostly due to Etienne’s stubborn hunting. Her gaze shifted to her friend. Her heart faltered at the hurtful words hanging in the air between them.  He, of course, knew this story.

“I lost sleep over it, stayed up many nights with him, watching his wasting body and drying skin. I feared I would lose him. And it seemed so terribly unfair. Not because I would be dropped from Moxous and my own career as a healer set aside, but because from all that I had learned about Brande, he was a very nice man. And he shouldn’t have had to die because a student could not heal him.”

At that time, Alphonse had begged, begged her Masters to step in. To help Brande.

They had told her it was her task and her task alone.

She had come back to Brande’s room, to find him breathing weakly on his cot. He had lost so much weight. His skin was cracking no matter how many baths and lotions and salves she smeared over him. No matter how much magic she poured into him…

“I asked my masters, but they reminded me of the traditions of Moxous. I had to heal Brande on my own. I came back to Brande’s room, and I’ll admit I was disheartened. I sat beside his bed and held his hand. Sea Cabot have those webbed fingers…” She smiled fondly at the memory.

“I was weeping.”Of course, she was crying! When was Alphonse not crying? “And my tears fell on his skin. And much to my great surprise, his skin began to glisten and shine as it had before. Just where my tears fell. And then I realized: Salt! My tears were made of saltwater, and his people hailed from the coast. Brande had thought just bathing daily in freshwater would be well enough, but as it turned out, he desperately needed saline. I was so relieved I cried more, which only made him all the better.”

“Once bathed in brine, his health quickly returned. Brande was able to leave in perfect condition, and I earned my marks.” Alphonse had thought the point of her story was to never give up on yourself.

But she had wondered, in her darker moments, if there was a more nefarious undercurrent to the happenings at Moxous. Had her masters truly had such unerring faith in her ability that Brande was never actually in danger?

Or perhaps, they had seen a Cabot and known that if she failed, it would be no significant loss to Ingola? That his life was expendable because he was not what they found valuable?

Alphonse hated to think of her masters that way, but…

She smiled a bit. “That is my story.”

✶

Etienne smiled a little sadly as Alphonse’s story came to an end. He remembered the days in which she had struggled to heal her first patient. It had been stressful for both of them; her desperate to ease the man’s pain, him scouring through old archives to help.

The struggles of