11 - Cloths and Ointments

“I’m speaking nonsense. Don’t mind me, Octavia,” Valrion’s mother said, putting the discussion to an end.

Octavia touched the cloth on Valrion’s head, likely checking if it had become lukewarm and dry—though Valrion felt it hadn’t—before turning her attention back to his mother. “You should eat. You’ve only had a cup of tea since you woke up.”

“Yeah.” Valrion’s mother straightened her back, pressing her hands against the bed as if preparing to leap. “You’re right. I’m a little hungry. What are you making?”

“Barley porridge, as usual, but we also reheated some leftover beef slices. They will turn bad soon. We can’t use them in the afternoon because we’re already planning to make some stew.”

“All right, then.” His mother stood up with a small hop, which was quite endearing to watch as she seemed to transform into a young maiden again. The thought of eating a delicious meal appeared to fully restore her spirit. It was a nice change, especially considering how tense the atmosphere had been up until then.

As his mother approached the cradle and peppered his fingers with kisses, his mind wandered to a time in the future when he could finally try their barley porridge and the various types of meat stored in the kitchen. His baby instincts didn’t make him lose any interest in solid food. It wasn’t that he needed it urgently, but if given the chance, he would prefer to have them right now.

Barely ten seconds after his mother walked away, Octavia took the cloth, dipped it into the basin again, and placed it on the same spot. She then went to straighten the bed sheet where his mother had sat for a good minute or two before eventually leaving the room. About ten minutes later, she returned to remove the cloth and, this time, headed out with it and the basin.

Throughout the intervals, he did two things: summoning the Handbook, which showed that his health points had increased just by a single point, and thinking hard about how to practice his fire power. If he could walk, he would go to the yard and quietly burn a patch of soil, but clearly, that wasn’t feasible.

He glanced around, eventually tilting his head upward to see the fireplace across from his parents’ bed. Though his view was partially obstructed by the cradle’s slats, he knew it was there.

A sudden clarity sparked in his mind.

Fireplaces were meant to house fires. Given their purpose, they should be the safest practicing medium for someone who could spend ninety percent of their life stuck in their room. Made from materials that could withstand fire, things should work smoothly even if he didn’t aim his fire directly at the center. It might even be okay if he hit the outer edges, but of course, he would try his best to make it go inside.

Octavia showed up faster than before, carrying a dark brown cylindrical jar with flared shoulders and a flat top. She stood in her previous spot next to the cradle, lifted the lid, and set it on the slats. Taking a small dollop of what seemed to be an ointment, she gently rubbed it onto his bump. It had a sweet, citrusy scent and was cool to the touch, though not as cold as the wet cloth.

All the while, he focused on directing his fire power toward the fireplace. He strained to look in the right direction—arching his spine as much as he could—only to discover that he hadn’t made any difference. As much as he tried to search for evidence that he almost had it, there wasn’t even a spark of heat.

“Don’t twist your head like that.” Octavia cupped Valrion’s head in her hand and guided it back into a more natural position. “What’s the matter? Are you maybe hurt somewhere else?”

Remembering the distasteful experience when she touched every part of his body to find out if something had gone wrong, he decided to stop fidgeting. Besides, he could feel the right side of his neck growing stiff. He didn’t want to have an injured head and neck at the same time.

There must be a better way to reach the fireplace.

Eruvian babies could freely roll around at around six months of age, which should also happen to him. Afterward, he would be able to crawl and stand on his two feet. There was something he could do to speed up the process, so he must follow the rule of “it would happen when it had to happen”.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

He shut his eyes, ruminating on how he had never considered the word “impatience” to be a gods’ weakness before any of this. A few times, the question would be raised during private studies or social gatherings, and most would bring up their lack of compassion toward mortals. This was especially true among the youngsters who hadn’t explored other realms enough.

“We can have anything we want, even create it out of nothing. Our time is infinite. We possess everything mortals don’t,” his mother in Heaven had said when she was teaching a class of children once. It was the most concise explanation anyone could give, and he still remembered it to this day.

Lack of compassion, impatience, unshaken fearlessness, and other bold traits—all these stemmed from one reason: gods were unlimited. He wasn’t one now, so he must behave. He could complain and throw a tantrum for as long as he wanted, but he wouldn’t get what he wanted as quickly as before.

When he opened his eyes, the room was still as bright as it was before. Dust particles floated in the air, visible now in a way they hadn’t been before—though perhaps it was because he was more aware of his surroundings now.

[Wednesday, March 10, 5723]

[12:42]

[Level: 2]

[EXP: 85/115]

[Health: 225/281]

[Mana: 25/25]

One of the most famous proverbs in Eru was “sleep is the best medicine”. Valrion would prefer to call it “good” since using herbs and performing surgeries were oftentimes necessary and more effective. If there was a true “best” one, it would be the healings provided by the radiance elemental wielders.

Still, he took a five-hour nap and woke up with his health points increased by around thirty. The cold compress and ointment definitely helped as well. His mana was also restored, which had been expected since it had only dropped by two.

A cloth rested on his head. Based on its dryness and stiffness, it must have been there for quite a while. Looking to the side, he saw his mother sleeping soundly on the bed. She was on her side, facing the cradle, with her blanket still neatly rolled at the foot of the mattress. It seemed like she had passed out accidentally, perhaps thinking she would lie down for just a moment, but she ended up never getting up.

His stomach grumbled with hunger, but the worst feeling was his parched throat. If he could, he would let the poor woman rest for as long as she needed, but she wouldn’t die from being woken up from an afternoon nap and doing her duty as a mother. He, on the other hand, would suffer if he couldn’t even be hydrated soon.

As if his voice were the sound of a winding horn, his mother’s eyes snapped open the instant she heard his cries, and she sat up straight. Like a scene from a play, his father suddenly appeared and sat beside his mother, startling Valrion.

Where had his father come from? There were no chairs in the room, so had he been standing in the doorway, waiting for one of them to wake up? Wasn’t he supposed to be at work? His mother must have only been half-awake since she just stared at his father, completely unbothered. Maybe she had gotten used to him showing up out of nowhere like that.

His father circled an arm around his mother’s shoulders and kissed the side of her head, and Valrion immediately looked away. That kind of thing was a regular act between mortal couples, but he felt as though he had just barged into someone’s privacy, like watching something he wasn’t meant to.

The most romantic thing his parents in Heaven had done was enjoy a meal together in a pavilion above a lake with swans swimming around, where the other gods wouldn’t bother them. Perhaps he could also consider the times they walked side by side on their way to visit someone. He had never seen them hold hands, let alone be physically intimate. It wasn’t that such things were taboo—they just weren’t the norm and thus were never even spoken about.

“Your son’s hungry,” his mother stated before standing up. She went to the cradle, removed the cloth on Valrion’s head, picked him up, and sat back on the edge of the bed to feed him.

As his father quietly watched them throughout the whole thing, Valrion took the chance to observe his appearance. His hair was pitch black, similar to Sergius’, though this was one of the most common hair colors in Eru. His height was also roughly the same as the guard’s, but his skin tone was closer to his mother’s. The most unique feature his father had was a pair of deep blue eyes. They reminded him of the ones his real father had.

“Are you sure he doesn’t need a physician?” his father asked after a moment of silence.

“The bump looks fine. I’ll keep doing a cold compress and give him an ointment. If anything, I think Sergius is the one who needs it.”

“I offered, but he refused. He said it’s a waste of money.”

“He’s always been like that. His burn will leave marks, but they’ll heal if he keeps applying ointments. Let him rest for now. He’ll ask for help if he needs one.”

“When I checked on him, he kept trying to change the topic to the neighbor who visited you this morning.”

His mother let out a weak chuckle. “Like I said, he’s always been like that.”

“Is it okay if I head back to the workshop?” his father asked, answering the suspicion that he was supposed to be working. Someone, most likely Octavia, must have gone to the workshop to inform him about the incident and bring him home.

“Of course, it’s okay,” his mother affirmed. “Are you still going to call Firmus?”

“I will, but not until the afternoon. He’s always swamped with council work at this hour.”

“Yeah, I hope he’s available and can bring some sense to this case.”

Based on this brief exchange, Valrion could deduce that his parents had already discussed the incident before he woke up. Whoever this Firmus person was, he seemed to be a significant figure working for the council, and he would likely be the next to contribute to Valrion’s quests.