The nights and the mornings were his only respite from his hectic schedule. The soft grass brushed his bare feet, the fresh breeze relaxed his nerves. The rising sun’s reflection on the animated waters waved him a jolly good morning, and the birds sang their first song of the day. He worried about nothing at this moment. No potions, no business, no Novas, no Varos, and not his plans for Drarith. He even shoved his concerns about Nana to the back of his mind… At least he tried to—his anxiety for her was far too stubborn.
Yet today, the ruckus at the outskirts of the city disturbed his alone time. Several skirmishes with wild Astylinds had broken out since the day he moved to this villa. But the guards solved them all by themselves, albeit with some damage and casualties. The commotion never went past a certain limit and bothered him though. That streak broke today.
Is it our turn finally?
The reason for this hubbub could either be a tide of Astylinds or a Staron attack—the ongoing war with no end in sight. If possible, he didn’t want to meddle in this mess. The city’s wellbeing or its ownership would have nothing to do with him if the circumstances differed. Neither its demise nor its prosperity would’ve affected him in a different scenario. But the condition for a residence included participation in protecting the city. And thus, if he wanted this stable environment to continue his schedule and not try his luck out in the wild, he had to get involved. Not to mention, Drarith was still the crux in his plan for the mystic.
Still, he didn’t intend on risking his or Astylinds’ life on the frontlines, at least not yet.
A supporter was a vital part of any army, far more important than the vanguards sometimes. Especially a healer who could save lives and turn the tide of the battle. Such was the case with the recruitment terms for the War Dogs back in Obria, and it would hold true for any other settlement. If Ewan registered as a support staff, not only would he be able to take it easy in the back, but also earn some resources by doing the same.
While his thoughts wandered, the conscription notice arrived at his doorsteps—it gave him one hour for preparation.
……
At the temporary camp set up outside the city.
The camouflage tents flapped with the gust that blew in from the war zone, bringing in the faint whispers of the battle that had already heated up the ground. The serene grassy stretch in between the camp and where the men bled was a moat that reflected the apprehension and wavering eyes of the newcomers. As they lined up, they all looked back to where they would either die or kill to live for another day. How many would come back and count their loot with a grin, and how many would become the loot for the other side…
Once the queue whittled down to Ewan, he noted his name in the register, signed his initials, and the man in-charge marked his attendance.
“Your details, please,” the man in-charge said, still perky with his voice, and his written words carrying the spirited curves and tails. But the line behind Ewan extended till the end of the camp, and more joined in and crowded at the perimeter, their garbled chatter blending with the distant war cries. The numbers would soon deflate the man in-charge into lethargy with constant sighs ending his sentences. If Ewan was at the end of the queue, he might not succeed in his request. Luckily, he got here early, when the man still had the energy and the intent to listen to him.
“Eighth awakening, support, hoping for medicine,” Ewan said, copying the Ashevas that came before him.
The man in-charge looked up at him. “How confident are you?” he asked.
“Most injuries below Step-1 shouldn’t be a problem,” Ewan said. “I have a healer-type Astylind, and I’m also a Potioneer.”
“What about poison?” the man asked, tapping his pen on the paper.
“Doable but depends on the potency, I can handle most common ones.”
The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.
“I’ll assign you to the medicine then. Your level is high enough to lead, but I’ll only appoint one helper for now. Tell me if you want to change anything.”
“No, it’s fine. Where do I go?” Ewan asked.
The man in-charge pointed to a faraway tent in the back with his pen. “Go get familiar first. We might need you soon,” he said.
“Can you do me a favor? Can you notify Kiev about this?”
“Sir Kiev? Alright, I’ll send someone.”
“Thank you,” Ewan said and went on his way towards the tent.
…..
The thick camouflage canvas draped over the sturdy poles created a decent space for a makeshift hospital. Several beds lined up inside, while a wooden desk and a chair sat in a corner with their quiet, a scant layer of dust accompanying them.
“You can wait here,” the man arranging the personnel said. “Someone will send you your helper and will notify you when you’re needed. If you need something, just ask anyone wearing this.” He showed the green armband he wore on his right bicep.
“I don’t get that?” Ewan asked. The green color suggested the medicine team, and he joined them.
“This is for the permanent members. Temporary volunteers get this instead,” the man said and gave Ewan a white armband. “You can get this if you join us permanently. Want to?”
“No thanks, I’m good,” Ewan said with a smile, letting the spider that rappelled down before him use his finger as its perch, then gently putting it on the table. Even though he had a motive to join, he hadn’t volunteered for the war, most of the foreign Ashevas hadn’t. The conscription notice wouldn’t give them the choice. But he didn’t care to correct the man.
The man walked away, shaking his head, while Ewan rested on the rocking chair, listening to it groan as he swung. The setup wasn’t as bad as he’d imagined.
The uncertainty about joining the war had worried him at first. What if they didn’t listen to his request to join the medicine team and still sent him to the frontline? He fought several battles since he became a Severynth, but they were all individual battles, not wars. He had zero experience in fighting a small skirmish, let alone a war. So, if possible, he wanted to take it slow and learn before entering the main battlefield. The medicine team was perfect for it, and luckily, he got in. He could taste the chaos and the atmosphere of a war here without risking his or his Astylinds’ life. This was a necessity for him since he planned on joining expeditions to other planets and planes.
The extent of the two were worlds apart but the essence was the same.
Minutes went by but no one came to disturb Ewan. He drifted away in his thoughts for a while, as the spider kept him company in silence, then came back and took out a thick hardcover book on Starons and Astylinds anatomy. Since he had time, it was better to brush up on some old knowledge—who knew what injuries he would encounter today. The book was an explorer’s edition, much more detailed than a general off-the-shelf book. It absorbed Ewan into its illustrations, its analysis, its theories, its research, its conclusions. Even though he’d already finished this book before, he still got lost and didn’t notice the hour go by.
“Kidd reporting for duty, sir.” The voice shattered his concentration, the spider scuttled away, and brought him back to the tent.
When Ewan saw the person saluting him, the one who would be his helper, he couldn’t help but chuckle. At least his time in the tent wouldn’t be boring anymore.
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Status: Healthy
Step-0 [8th Awakening]
Name: Ewan Ayres
Species: Human
Vitality: 1.9
Spirit: 16.9
Anima: [Fire – 16.9 | Ice – 16.9 | Blood – 16.9]
Astylinds: 4 [Potential: 0]
Rolling Cat [Toast]: Step-0 [8th Awakening]
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Fire Monkey [Orange]: Step-0 [Level-9] [Grade-B]
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Imp [Frost]: Step-0 [Level-9] [Grade-B]
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Blood Lotus [Iris]: Step-0 [Level-9] [Grade-C]
Equipment: Common Clothes; Yurn [Neck Gaiter].
Storage: Journal; Elementalist—The Path of Anima [Subtype-Book]; Spellbook; Bloodlust [Spell]; Transmute [Spell]; Anima-Crystals [Novas Coins]; Obsidian Dagger; Hub-Connector; Ingredients.
Novas: 25,785
Crelith: 4,064