“Boy, I need you to go to Milo’s clinic and help him with a case there. His clinic is on the main road of the Eastern Market, you can’t miss it.” Savta called out from behind the counter.

Exill stepped out of the treatment room to find her dismissing an errand boy while pocketing several silver coins into her pouch.

“Right now? What is it about?”

“That snivelling healer snagged himself a rich merchant, but botched the removal of a rotten tooth. Go there and show him how it’s done at Savta’s Clinic, and remember, you need to scrape away all the decay before it can be healed.”

Sullenly, Exill gathered his gear. He hated dentistry with a passion. It also didn’t help that Savta was loaning him out to other clinics and making him run errands all the time. Her attitude had changed ever since Luna returned from the Diviner two weeks ago.

Perhaps sensing the growing distance between the two, Savta’s handling of him had become almost dismissive and exploitative. It was raining lightly outside so he turned to fetch his cloak, when his eyes met with Luna’s.

The blonde elf-maiden hastily turned away and climbed the stairs, refusing to even bid him goodbye.

‘Ah… this sucks.’ He thought bitterly, and raised the cloak’s hood as he stepped outside. The pattering rain was gentle, and similarly cowled figures could be seen hurrying around the street. If it wasn’t for the fact that it was a dentist errand, he would have felt relief from stepping outside the stifling clinic.

Soon, he arrived at the Eastern Market, and spotted the light blue painted façade of a healer’s clinic up ahead. He knocked at the door, then entered upon hearing no reply.

“It took you long enough to get here. Any longer and the bliss root would have begun to wear off.” A sullen looking male elf stepped out of a well-appointed treatment room. The edges of his mouth downturned in a permanent scowl and his forehead featured a prominent widow’s peak, swept back in a tight ponytail.

“I came as fast as I could, do you want me to begin immediately?”

“Of course! I didn’t pay that hag top Denars for you to lounge around, now get in there and make it right!” Milo shoved the hapless Witchdoctor into the treatment room and closed the door behind him.

Inside the room, a turgid man languished on a reclining chair, heavily under the effect of bliss root. His pupils were dilated, and drool dripped from the side of his mouth onto the bejewelled hand resting on his chest.

“Excuse me. I’m from Savta’s Clinic, and I’ll be removing your teeth today.”

If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

“Huh? I t-thought I was at Milo’s…”

Exill hushed the man and pried his mouth open, and was immediately hit with the stench of decay. Savta had cautioned him previously about paralysing someone’s face and he was glad that the merchant was still heavily under the effect of bliss root.

Near the back of the man’s mouth was a black stump littered with chipped enamel fragments, and Exill gagged as he caught a whiff of the rot.

“So how long have you been in the merchanting business?” he asked casually, beginning to scrape away the rot for a clearer look.

“Nu-wenny nu yaars,” the turgid man mumbled.

“That is a long time, what wares do you sell?”

The merchant mumbled some unintelligible gibberish, and Exill nodded sagely while reaching for the elongated pliers. For a brief moment, he gained insight into dentists and their desire to speak with patients who couldn’t respond properly.

With a clean yank, he pulled out the root of the molar, then finished by suturing the gaping hole. It took fifteen minutes in all, and heaved a sigh of relief while washing his hands and tools in the sink.

“Done already?” Milo sauntered in and examined his handiwork.

“Yes, it was a full extraction, and you can begin regrowth once the swelling subsides.” It took only a few days to regrow teeth, but attempting [Heal] now would only waste mana and vitality on reducing the swelling. Healer philosophy dictated it was wise to help the body in its natural healing as opposed to brute recovery.

“Good.” Milo stepped back and examined Exill with a clinical eye. “So how is it working for that despicable old hag? She’s insufferable in the Guild meetings, always lording it over us healers stationed in the outer city. It’s surprising she deigns to share her precious will-blessed ‘recruit’ with the rest of us plebians.” The Healer’s tone was acrimonious and sour in its delivery.

“Savta is… eccentric, but she has my best interest in heart.”

Milo barked sharply in an involuntary laugh, the corners of his mouth climbing in a sardonic grin. He placed a friendly hand on the back of the young witchdoctor, and led him to the empty reception room.

“She only has her best interest in heart, with her ‘precious’ granddaughter a distant second.” Milo patted him while opening the front door, “Take today for example, I paid 200 Denars for your services. How much of that are getting? Sometimes you can earn much more forging your own path as a specialist contractor with will-blessed skills such as yours.” Milo tapped his temple with a finger.

Exill stumbled out as Milo abruptly slammed the door in his face, and he slowly made the trek back to the clinic.

‘Would it be alright to leave? I still owe Savta so much no matter what that dour healer says.’ He also mulled over how much there was yet to learn about concoctions and strategies to magical healing.

However he couldn’t deny that the atmosphere in the clinic had become stifling upon the return from the Diviner, and Savta had become increasingly dismissive of him. Speaking of the devil, he walked up the front stairs of the Clinic to find her stepping out, flipping the ‘Closed’ sign out front. She noticed Exill and moved aside, keeping the door open.

“You’re back sooner than I thought. I’m going out on Guild business and should be back in a couple hours. I left your share of today’s commissions in the tin under the counter.” The old healer donned a wicker hat and briskly strode away, and was soon lost in the evening crowds.

Exill remembered the words of the Milo, and checked under the counter to find 100 Denars nestled within. He wanted to believe that Savta had made a mistake. They had renegotiated his share to 60% after all. However a seed of discontent was planted in his troubled heart.