The Gate Traveler

We returned to the wilderness and, after an hour of walking, found a serene clearing to set up camp. As I began erecting the tent, my hands shook while tying one pole.

I killed somebody today!

All my life, I worked to save people, not kill them. So, now I didn't know how to deal with that fact.

I killed somebody today! And helped the guard dispatch the other two!

I sat there, trembling, trying to process it all. Stretch came over and rested his head on my lap. I started petting him, finding solace in the rhythmic motion. Whenever my thoughts overwhelmed me, I would pause, but Stretch nudged my hand, urging me to continue.

Smart wolf.

Eventually, I regained enough composure to prepare dinner, and we settled in for the night. Despite my expectations, nightmares didn't haunt me. The following morning, my mind was clearer, and I could reflect on the events more calmly. The arrow that narrowly missed my ear meant I was the intended target, and the archer almost killed the coachman. I doubted it was their first criminal act, and even if it were, they likely would have continued as bandits. So, with the archer, it was self-defense, and the guard had potentially saved many lives by eliminating the other threats.

Some of these thoughts felt like attempts to rationalize and ease my conscience, but they were also facts. Still, we remained in that clearing for two days until I found my equilibrium again. Stretch took advantage of the break, catching up on sleep and enjoying belly rubs and ear scratches. Since I "harvested" the bison, he was less enthused about the goat meat or any other meat I gave him, but he couldn't get enough of the bison.

Spoiled wolf.

After two days, I decided that if I let that nasty noble make me change my plans, he would win. So, after packing the camp, we headed back to the road.

When we got to the road, I didn't feel like walking again and summoned a bicycle. I concluded that I always had a Luck stat; it was simply hidden. When I bought my first bike and all the equipment for its upkeep, the salesperson insisted I buy a trailer for all the equipment. Initially, I refused, but then I decided that I could always use the trailer to haul my shopping to a discreet location before storing it. Now I wanted to send him a thank you note with flowers and chocolate. The minute I connected the trailer, Stretch hopped in and sat down, wagging his tail.

Consulting the Map, I saw it was an endless road in both directions, with occasional towns on the way, and both ends arrived at a capital, or at least a larger city with a crown mark on the Map. I continued north and started pedaling.

We traveled like that for about three hours until I saw a caravan ahead. I thought of storing the bike but then decided to see their reaction to it and, based on that, act in the future.

As I approached, the size of the caravan impressed me. It was a BIG caravan! Over fifty carts of all shapes and sizes. Some carts were giant, at least three meters wide and five meters long with six wheels, and four of the mini-bison I had encountered pulled them. Some were much smaller and pulled by this world's version of a horse; it had the tail, mane, and equine face but was shorter, stockier, and had two small bull horns curving forward. There were also many people and kids. They looked Middle Eastern, with light brown skin, black hair, and dark eyes. The kids waved to me when I passed, and I waved back. Judging by their exclamations, Stretch was a hit. He also seemed to like the admiration; his tail thumped the trailer like an enthusiastic drummer.

Arriving at the head of the caravan, a man riding a horse steered towards me. I halted, waiting for him to approach. Dismounting, he extended his hand in greeting.

"A healer! Bless the ** **! How much are you asking for? We have people that need help." His voice carried a mixture of relief and awe.

"No … [shit! How do you say money or charge] No need to give anything," I responded hastily, my brow furrowing in frustration as I searched for the right words in this unfamiliar language. With a wave, I motioned toward the caravan behind him, eager to move past the awkward moment and get to work.

How did he know?

Suddenly, it dawned on me, and I facepalmed. I was an idiot. When I got the Identify ability, I used it for an hour on Earth, was totally unimpressed, and forgot all about it. I even read about MCs using this ability, but it never crossed my mind to use it myself.

Without asking, he looked at me with a perplexed look. The caravan slowed after he yelled something I didn't catch. He led me to one cart, where a man lay on a blanket, his body contorted in discomfort. As I approached, the stench of sweat and sickness mingled in the air, a telltale sign of the severe condition he was in. Suspecting tetanus infection, I cast diagnosis, confirming my suspicion. His muscles were rigid, his jaw clenched—a classic presentation.

It took casting Neutralize Poison three times to take care of all the toxins and five casts of Healing Touch to fix all the damage to his body. He began to look emaciated, so I told the woman sitting beside him, "A lot food and water. When he feel better, tell me, I heal again."

"Thank you a lot," she murmured fervently. "And thank you to the gods of old for sending you our way."

I nodded in acknowledgment and turned to the guide. "Take me another person."

The next patient looked like a guard, with armor and a sword and everything, and had an infected cut on his upper arm.

"What happened?" I inquired, inspecting the wound.

"Training accident," he replied tersely, wincing as I probed gently.

This was a straightforward fix compared to tetanus. With practiced ease, I applied two Healing Touches, the warmth of mana seeping into his injured flesh. Almost immediately, the infection subsided, and his discomfort eased.

"Eat, drink, rest," I instructed him in a firm tone, satisfied with the outcome.

"Thank you," he acknowledged gratefully, flexing his arm tentatively.

I turned to the guide once more, eager to continue. "Take me to the next person."

My language is improving! Yay!

Next in line was a child, plagued by a persistent cough that racked his slight frame. I administered a Healing Touch with a gentle touch, easing his respiratory distress. To lift his spirits, I offered him a lollipop, his eyes lighting up with delight as he accepted the treat.

"Next person?" I prompted, ready for the next challenge.

An elderly woman awaited me, her face etched with pain. Her broken leg had begun to heal incorrectly, a misalignment that threatened her mobility.

"I need open the leg, break the bone a second time, and then heal it correct," I explained patiently, hoping to reassure her.

Her response was adamant. "No cutting, no breaking. I will wait for it to heal naturally," she insisted, fear evident in her eyes.

Sensing her apprehension, the guide intervened, speaking to her in soothing tones. Despite his efforts, she remained resolute, shaking her head.

"Can you wait a moment?" the guide asked me quietly. "I'll speak to her again."

I nodded in agreement, watching as he conversed with her earnestly. He rejoined me after a few minutes, his expression grave.

"She's afraid of the pain from cutting and breaking the bone again," he explained, his voice tinged with concern for the woman's welfare.

Of course, as a doctor from Earth, it was obvious to me that the procedure would be done with anesthesia, but she had no way of knowing it. Today was my day of feeling like an idiot.

"I will speak with her and explain," I told him.

"You won't feel pain," I explained to her. "I will put you to sleep with magic, fix your leg, and you wake up with good leg." It was even easier to explain; it felt like I was almost done learning the language. I even knew the words I was missing before in both encounters.

She hesitantly asked, "You promise I won't feel the pain?"

"I promise you go to sleep and wake up with good leg," I assured her with a smile.

She nodded, and I set up the "operating table," aka my sturdy folding camping table with a plastic sheet and a smaller table for my instruments.

I glanced around, searching for Stretch, but couldn't spot him. Turning to my guide, I asked, "Do you know where my wolf is?"

He looked puzzled. "What wolf?"

"The wolf I had with me. You saw him," I clarified, feeling a bit concerned.

"I apologize, but that is not a wolf; it's a bushland dog," he replied, a hint of amusement in his eyes.

I blinked, taken aback. "Huh? What do you mean a dog? I found him in the forest."

"Yes, those are wild dogs, but if you befriend one or raise it from a puppy, it's a loyal friend for life. They are also very smart," he explained, his expression calm.

I rubbed my chin, digesting this new information. "Huh, you learn something new every day. And I noticed the smart part." He gave me another puzzled look but didn't comment further.

"So, do you know where my dog is?" I asked, refocusing on my original question.

"Playing with the children," he said, pointing towards a group of kids nearby.

I relaxed and smiled. "Oh, no problem then."

He helped me guide the lady to the operating table, her face pale and tense with anxiety. I cast Clean and Purify on everything, ensuring a sterile environment. The first time I partitioned my mind, it wasn't easy, but it became easier after doing it a few times. Maybe I could create another partition: one for anesthesia, one for controlling the blood, and one for healing.

I put the lady to sleep with a gentle spell, watching her features relax as she drifted unconscious. I then made a precise incision along the improperly healed bone, carefully opening her leg. Blood welled up, but I was ready, immediately grabbing and controlling it with a focused spell.

Next, I gripped the misaligned bone, feeling the rough edges under my fingers. With a steady hand, I broke the bone again, the crack echoing through the quiet space. I winced at the sound, knowing it would have been agonizing without the anesthesia.

My mind strained as I attempted to create the third partition. I failed the first five times, each attempt causing intense pressure in my head, diaphragm, and abdomen. On the sixth try, I succeeded. It was hard; it was very hard; it was very, very, very hard. My entire mana system felt like it was shaking under the strain, but I persisted.

I worked as quickly and accurately as possible, using the healing partition to mend the freshly broken bone and ensure it aligned perfectly. The tissue knitted together seamlessly under my guidance, the skin closing without a trace of the incision.

After healing and waking the lady, I helped her off the table. Her eyes fluttered open, and she looked at me with confusion and relief. "Drink, eat, and rest," I instructed her, ensuring she was steady before cleaning the equipment thoroughly.

My guide watched the entire procedure with wide-eyed admiration. As I finished, he began calling me Grand Master Healer. Despite my attempts to tell him I wasn't a Grand Master, he refused to believe it. His eyes filled with respect and gratitude.

Feeling drained, I checked my mana: 180/4200.

I wiped the sweat from my brow and took a deep breath, feeling the weight of exhaustion settling in. "I can't heal anybody else right now; my mana is too low."

He smiled warmly, placing a reassuring hand on my shoulder. "That was the last person. Rest and regenerate. Thank you again, Grand Master Healer."

I managed a tired smile, nodding slightly. "You are welcome. I will check the first patient later."

With that, I slowly lowered myself onto a nearby rock, closing my eyes for a moment to gather my strength and let the remnants of my mana pool start to replenish.

It occurred to me I didn't think twice about storing my bike and summoning equipment in front of my guide. Although he gave me strange looks a couple of times during our conversation, when I stored or summoned things, he didn't react at all. That's good; it meant the ability was common.

I looked for Stretch and found him lying on his back and getting belly rubs from three little girls. He looked in heaven. When the kids saw me, they asked the boy I healed if I was the one who gave him candy, and when he answered in the affirmative, they all surrounded me, asking for candy. I was glad I bought so much. It was a lot of fun making children happy. Whether their parents would be happy about the sugar rush or not, wasn't my problem.

"So you're a dog?" I asked Stretch, looking at him. He looked at me and wagged his tail. I identified him, yay me, and got a BIG surprise.

 

 

?!?!?!?!?!?!

My mind was completely blank—I didn't even know what to think.

As my guide approached me, I suddenly realized that I hadn't asked for his name or introduced myself. I forgot my manners during my time in the wilderness.

Oops.

I held my hand and said, "Sorry, I forgot to introduce myself; my name is John. What's your name?"

He gave me a puzzled look again.

What am I missing? What's so strange about an introduction?

I raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued, and asked instead of letting my mind try to come up with the answer. "Why did you look at me like that when I told you my name and asked yours?"

The caravan leader's expression softened slightly, though his eyes still held a hint of wariness. "I know your name. When the Guiding Spirits showed me you are a healer, they also showed me your name. Do you not know how to get answers from the Guiding Spirits?"

I felt a flush of embarrassment, but kept my face neutral. "I didn't think to ask; my mistake."

He shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips. "That was not a mistake. It is not polite to ask about every person you meet, but I am the caravan leader, so it is my responsibility to make sure you have good intentions. I thought that healers asked the Guiding Spirits about every person who asked for their help, no?"

I bluffed, hoping my face didn't betray my uncertainty. "Yes, but I was not healing you, so I didn't ask about you, only about the people who needed my help."

His nod was slow, deliberate. "I understand. We will continue on the road now. It will be a great honor if you join us at camp tonight so we can express our gratitude."

A smile tugged at my lips, and I shrugged nonchalantly. "You don't have to thank me. I'm a healer; that's what I do."

He looked at me strangely again.

Oh, well, I'm an alien. What did you expect?

I was on the verge of laughing out loud—I was an alien. I had to excuse myself; it was hard to hold it in and not burst into laughter. I went to Stretch, hugged him, and hid my laughter in his fur. The song by Sting played in my mind: "I'm an alien, I'm a legal alien, I'm an Englishman in New York …"

Life is so strange sometimes.