A Doctor Without Borders

7. Lessons



I calmed down...eventually. Not once did anyone come to check on me.I truly was alone. I had somehow pissed off the only person who seemed to care.

“Better off without her,” but I didn’t believe the words I had muttered. Still, what doctor abandons a patient? Especially one that was having a mental breakdown? I forcibly unclenched my hands. Except, she wasn’t a doctor.I knew nothing of this world, and, looking around the room, it was nothing like my own.It was...primitive.

I rubbed the blankets covering me between my fingers. The thread was coarse. The stitching was wide and irregular. No machine made this. They had to be handwoven. The bed was no better. It was crafted out of unhewn wood. In a different setting, it may have sold for a pretty penny to create a rustic look. Here? Not so much. Not with every other table and chair looking unfinished. Where was the metal? And was the floor really packed dirt?

I rubbed my bare foot against it. It was. I was so screwed.I had done some hiking and camping when I was younger, but medical school and residency had kept me busy.I was far from a survivalist. I liked—no, needed—my tech.

I took a deep breath to stop from going back to that dark place. I needed clothes.I looked over to the corner where she had pointed to before leaving. A pile. I exhaled in relief before flipping off the blanket covering me. I swore. I was nude.

I hurried to the corner only to swear again. No way.

I was naked. My first priority should have been to get dressed, but I couldn’t help it. I leaned over and picked up the small rectangular device. Of all the things to survive my journey, my pager?

The plastic carrying case was cracked, but the pager looked in one piece. I popped it out of its holder. I pushed and held one button, waiting for the characteristic beep. Nothing.

I closed my eyes and sighed. “Thank goodness.” The relief didn’t make sense, but I had been at its beck and call for too many years. Nothing was better than handing off a pager after a long call day. I had been so looking forward to passing off the little bomb to the next chief in two weeks.

I gripped the pager. Now the freedom was tainted. I had earned it, but at what price?

I put it back down so that I would no longer be tempted to chuck it across the room. I would look at it later. The water probably did permanent damage, but the battery might be useful in the future.A small shiver rolled through my body. The pager was the least of my concerns.

I shifted my eyes to what remained of my clothes--scrubs, boxers, a grey undershirt, a white coat, and two athletic socks. Each was perfectly folded. She had cared.

I swore. I had royally screwed that up. I would need to make amends, but first I needed clothes.

I reached for my undershirt when a glint caught my eye. My eyes widened, and I ignored the cold to pick up my watch. A gift from my parents for graduating college and getting into medical school, it had been a constant companion for over a decade. I flipped it over in my fingers, examining it surfaces. I shook my head in disbelief. Barely any new scratches. It survived a drop off a waterfall and still ran…

But how?

I turned the watch over to inspect the gears.They moved. I flipped it again to look at the face. As second hand ticked by, I counted out the seconds. Still accurate.That didn’t make sense. Without moving, I needed to wind it within two days.

Did I not get injured as badly as I had thought?

I slipped it on my wrist, before I tossed on my undergarments.Then I examined my coat and scrubs.The river had not been kind. My scrubs had made it out okay. They bore a few new dark streaks, but my white coat was not so lucky. Streaks of black and green, likely from my many collisions with the rocks, covered its surface. One of the external pockets had been ripped clean off. The hole along the left, lateral seam, once sized for a hand to slip through easily, had become a long slit that ran to the bottom of my jacket. A few days ago, I would have tossed it and grabbed a spare. Now, I put them both on. Scrubs weren’t ideal for traipsing outdoors, but I needed layers if I was in the mountains.

Of course, that assumes I am still in the mountains.

As I had no way to prove or disprove that assertion, I moved to the next item of clothing. I ducked my head under the small table.

No shoes. Perfect, but fitting.

I picked up a sock and put it on.It was thin, but my foot appreciated it. I picked up my other sock and pulled it up only for it to not stop at my toes. I looked down to find my bare toes sticking out past a frayed white edge. How had I forgotten?

I hadn't just lost both shoes to the river. I wiggled my toes, all five of them. I pulled off the sock and pulled the foot towards my face to better examine my right foot. Not even a scar. But the damage I sustained… Was it a dr—

No.I had to stop thinking that.I had to treat this place as real. However, how was my foot intact? I should have lost at least a few toes if not half my foot.

I needed answers. I grabbed what was left of my tools. Not much. Only my reflex hammer, tucked in my coat’s buttonholes, and a few safety pins attached to the front survived. Not surprising really. I lost my stethoscope. I had worn it wrapped around my neck. The oils from the skin did terrible things for its tubing’s durability, but conveniences trumped. Now it had cost me. Though, even in my pocket, I probably would have lost it. After all, I had lost my pocket reference. The water must have ripped out the small books. I cursed. Hard to be a doctor without tools. Even if burning a book verged on sacrilege, that paper dried fast. In an emergency, it might have made decent kindling for a fire.

My head snapped up. Fire. Where were the torches lighting this room?

I walked over to a light and squinted in disbelief. To confirm, I reached out to touch the source, a crystal glowing with the same color as a warm light bulb. It hung from the wall via a small wood frame almost like a wire. I peeked along its edge. No signs of a wire. I ran my fingers along the edge.Not a trace of warmth. I picked it up and rotated it. How did they get the light in there? There were no cracks or seams, but one edge contained a faint pattern or inscription. I put it down and walked to another one. It was the same.

“Are you done examining our light stones? You have wasted enough of my time.”

I spun to face my visitor. At first, I had thought my rescuer had returned, but the green of her skin was off. Every part of her was a shade darker—like the dark green of the leaves from last year’s growth as compared to next spring’s new buds—except for her long white hair, which just made her hue of green that much more vivid.

Her gaze shifted to the stones, and she tsked. “And not even the decency to charge them. What were you doing with all that time staring? No matter. What else could I expect from a Human. But, I can be gracious. After all, I have you to thank for helping to prove my point to my student. Nothing I could've said would have mattered.But a simple example of a fool turning away the only person who cared to help him...” She chuckled darkly.

From across the room, I took the woman in. She stood tall, likely exceeding my height by a few inches. Arms crossed, she didn’t bother to hide any of her disdain.It was practically etched in with the rest of the lines in her face. The sinews in her forearms and weathered skin confirmed a hard life.

The pieces came together. This could only be one person: the elder healer. Everything about her scream that this was not a woman to cross, and yet, without saying a word, I had pissed her off.

Before I could say anything, the door opened from the other room. The healer turned to address the person that had entered. “You needn’t waste your time. Your previous message was abundantly clear.”

“To you perhaps.” Cold, cutting, I recognized the voice.Yesterday’s visitor had returned.

“My apprentice is not here.There will not be any problems.”

"Will I be dragging him to the forest?"

“It appears my apprentice stretched the boundaries of my instructions. He survived a gamble and will be able to walk himself to the mines. Unfortunately, you won’t have any extra bait for hunting.”

A dark laugh answered. They had to be joking. If the surrounding forest contained creatures similar to what I had seen upon arriving here…

The woman stepped away from the doorway to let the speaker in.My eyes grew wide at his appearance.

Our newest guest was not human, not completely. He had a thick brow, angular jaw, long canines, and an excessive amount of body hair. He was as much wolf as man. Images of the earliest stages of werewolf transformations from bad B-movies flashed through my mind. Except, he wasn’t in pain. Quite the opposite.He seemed quite comfortable in his skin, moving with the deadly grace of a warrior. He wore gear to match, a black material, likely a type of leather, that protected his chest, arms, and legs. He stood a head shorter than the elder healer, which put him a few inches shorter than I was, but I had no doubt that he could tear me apart with the long knife attached to his hip or his hands with fingernails that all narrowed to a fine point.

He gave me a sinister smile.”You are lucky. Most people I come for do not tend to live much longer."

He had mistaken my surprise for fear, though to be fair, surprise had only won out by the barest of margins. He waited a beat for me to respond, but when I didn’t, he addressed the old woman.“I expected Esper to be here."

Esper. I burned her name into my memory. Even if her actions were childish, I had somehow misstepped. I would find a way to make amends. She had saved me, and so far, no one else showed a shred of human decency. Human decency…a terrible term here, but it didn’t change the truth. I needed a friend if not an ally. For whatever reasons, her position carried import—enough to necessitate a high-level…enforcer?

"You can thank the young Human for that." The enforcer cocked his head, but she didn’t explain further. “Now get him out of here. I'm tired of him stinking up the place."

The wolf man snorted. He gave me a once over. "Not much to look at." Though, his eyes lingered on my face. “He skews towards Mind?”

“Yes.”

"Did you check his Potentials?”

"Yes, but I doubt they were right. What he went through made them…less accurate."

His eyes never left my face. I resisted the urge to bring my hand to my forehead. “How inaccurate?”

“Does it matter?”

He scowled. “It might. What class are you?"

Middle class seemed unlikely. A memory of words rose to the surface: [Class Obtained: Physician - Level 1]

A lie was on the tip of my tongue. Nothing I've heard made me believe that I would do well toiling in the mines. Perhaps if I pretended to be a mage…except mages casted magic, which, after seeing those light crystals, may actually exist something I couldn’t do. If I had to prove it...

"[Physician]." The way I spoke the word surprised me. A strange empha—

The enforcer growled. “Don’t lie. I have heard of no such class among the Humans.”

“I am not. It is a type of doctor.” His frown deepened. “I am not lying. Maybe it would better be understood as a type of healer."

The man's head snapped over to the elder healer. "Is he?" The tone was deadly serious.

She scowled at the question. "He can't be. I've never heard of his class in all of our lore about healing.”

“What about [Doctor]?”

Again with the strange emphasis, though she didn’t seem fazed by it. She did hesitate, as if to mull over answering the questions. “I have heard of it, but it isn’t a [Healer].” A low rumble escaped from his throat. “You ask for information you have no right to.” That only infuriated the enforcer more, but the elder healer—or [Healer]—held her ground. “You don’t need it anyways in his case. His Potentials are inadequate."

"You said that you could not accurately assess his Potentials.”

“I will admit to some error, but it didn’t matter with regards to his Projection. It is way too low."

"Still--"

"You doubt me." A wave of pressure hit me, almost driving me to a knee. As quickly as it came, it pulled back. The wolfman—for a lack of a better term—didn't even flinch. However, he snarled, showing his long and pointed canines. "Fine." She drew a knife. In a blink of any eye, the man had moved over four feet. One claw gripped her wrist, the other was raised ready to strike.

She didn't cry out, but she couldn’t hide every sign of pain. Still, she held herself up without a shred of fear, and given the way that she looked at him, I almost believed that he was in the more vulnerable position. “You forget yourself. I have means to show the truth. Now let go of me, and I will pretend this never happened.” He didn't let go. His snarl only widened. “Do you think your Alfa will be pleased you laid hands on a [Healer]?”

He said nothing, but he let go and stepped back. She put the sharp blade to her wrist. In a flick of her hand, a dark red line bloomed from her wrist.

"What did you do?" I yelled, rushing over to her. All my dislike faded away in an instant. The way the blood spurted, she must have hit her radial artery. She could bleed out in minutes.

"Where are your bandages? We need to put pressure until we can get some suture. Hopefully we won’t have to ligate it. I haven’t done this artery before, but--”

A barrage of knowledge cut me off. I had read about this once during a rotation in vascular surgery. I could see the words detailing the approach, when to repair versus ligate, the risk to both.

How...?

"Heal it." She dragged me from my thoughts. My hands still pressed on her wrist, but bright red blood welled out. “Heal it.”

"Heal it?"

“Yes. Heal the wound. Or do you not know how?

I stared as the blood rolled down her wrist to drip off her fingers onto the dirt floor. Red. Not blue, green, purple. Red. And the only reassuring thing about this situation.

"You can’t.”

“Not without su--

She took a breath and exhaled. Before my eyes, the blood glowed a violet-red and the laceration started to mend. It was over in seconds. “It can’t be.” I rubbed the blood away with my thumbs. Not even a mark. "How?"

She jerked her arm away, leaving me staring at my hands agape. "I'm a [Healer].”

“That wasn’t an answer. That shouldn’t be possible.”

“A fresh wound. A clean cut. Even a level 1 [Healer] should be able to manage some healing even when it’s not on their own person. For you not to know that…” She looked at her guest. "Do you doubt me now? He failed the most basic of tests, not that it was needed."

He didn't apologize. "You better hope you're right."

“He is not an answer to your problems.”

“Our problems,” he corrected.

“Yes, our problems.I have not forgotten them. I deal with them every day, or have you forgotten how much time I spend healing each day? Now get this Human out of here. He has wasted enough of my time.”

Without another word, she turned her back to him and headed to the other room.The thick hair on his arms and neck bristling, he growled at the dismissal, but he did nothing more.

“Come.”

Even with my mind reeling from shock, I didn’t hesitate. My sense of self-preservation wouldn’t allow nothing else. Something had stayed his hand with the [Healer], but no way in hell would that luxury extend to me.


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