Of course it wasn’t really tea that Rhode was drinking. Since nothing in this place could be simple, it was an [Alchemy: Enkindling Bio-Agent] infusion of skäldroot and some kind of berry called ob. Unfortunately, he barely took three sips before his upper arm started to itch, so he set his cup down and did his best to think of nothing at all.

External stimulus matches ingested substance with unknown properties

LogicSpirit8271635 waking from idle…

Requesting 30 seconds of event memory context from host

Mental ping initiated…

Mental ping denied

I will rend your mind. I will gnaw on your thoughts. I will leave you a husk of what you were.

Let me in.

Let me in.

End joking routine

Joke mode complete.

Requesting Host Confirmation of Joke Conclusion?

…

……

Mental ping initiated…

Mental ping denied

Resuming priority task. Divining substance properties from local knowledge archive...

Match [Common Grade Medicine: Herbal Tea] :: aspects( [Nectar], [Piquant], [Copper], [Analgesic] )

Boring

DailyOptimisationHint: Slaying a healer from behind with a bladed weapon would have a high likelihood of unlocking a [Blood] or [Malice] based level! Would you like to know more?

Override received. Override accepted.

Going to sleep

Rhode sighed and watched as his new healer brought out a twine-wrapped bundle of candles from his bag. Eloft picked three of them out, quite deliberately from the others, and packed the rejected ones up again.

“No,” the homunculus spoke loudly towards his own arm. He pronounced with slow, clear enunciation as he could so that the armlet could not pretend to misunderstand. He quickly apologized to his care provider and explained he was talking to his magic bangle.

It was too easy to get distracted by the voice in his head. Rhode didn’t like how much access the possessed bangle had into his mind. Even if the wizards insisted there were safeguards, or that there were rules the daemon wasn’t capable of overstepping, he felt infinitely more comfortable to take the thing off.

So he did. He opened a drawer from his side table and shut the bound spirit inside.

“So, Rhode,” the priest healer began. Eloft was adjusting the lit candles and wafting the medicinal smoke from them into the room. Even though the chamber was shut, the small motion of his hand stirred up the air like a miniature cyclone. Smoke twined through the air like dancing serpents in a great spiral. “May I call you Rhode? Rhode, do you know what my specialty is?”

Rhode puzzled for a moment. Then he secretly reached for the handle of his sword.

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Nodding to himself, and looking satisfied with the airborne diffusion of his medicine, Brother Eloft continued. “I possess a wind aspect.”

Rhode let go of his sword grip and let out a silent sigh. That phrasing had sounded too much like the setup for a villainous twist. Maybe he had watched too many movies in his past life. “Oh. That’s nice,” he supplied.

The healer did not reply at first. And the hero looked the goblin over. There was a kind of self-conscious anticipation there, as if the man had been expecting another reaction.

Rhode tried to figure out something to do with his hands. Hand fold in lap? That was dignified enough. “Are you expecting me to think that’s weird?” He tried again, neutrally.

“Ha,” Brother Eloft released. “I guess I should have figured you of all people would have heard of air elemental healing. Everybody’s always thought I was impaired. Not tree? Or water? You’re ruining your potential!” The wiry goblin threw his hands up into the air dramatically and let them fall slowly. “But you’re a Hero, a real one. Of course you would know about something as simple as the Natural Philosophy of Vital Airs.”

Rhode froze still, and then chose his best distant, sagacious expression. “Hm,” he noncommittally responded.

“So anyway. Maybe it’s true that I’ll never be able to close a battle-wound or cleanse gout,” the healer grumbled. He stepped forward and began inspecting his patient in earnest. His hand made a strange gesture. [Tension], the man signed, “[Whorl][Push]”, he whispered, and Rhode felt a strange, tugging viscosity in the air for a moment that fought against his breathing. [Tension], “[Sink].” And then the pressure was relieved just as fast.

A little chill rode Rhode’s spine like an elevator to the top of brain tower. Magic. Sure, boring magic. But still.

Eloft frowned, but nodded and stepped away. “Mostly, I work with kids. When it’s breath problems? Patients are mostly either young or old. And for me, I’ve always found it rewarding. You get to fix the problems no one else can fix. [Stutterbreath]? [Scabrous-lung]? Practically death sentences. But, also perfectly treatable, if you have the right specialty.”

The physician and his patient regarded each other again and Rhode did not entirely like the look he was receiving.

“So, ah, how bad am I?”

“How much have your healers told you, so far?” Eloft retorted, too quickly.

“Well, honestly not much,” Rhode began. He picked at a fingernail. “But I figure that from context, I suffered from a truncated gestation period. That left my lungs underdeveloped, probably similar to a premature birth. Plus, there’s internal bleeding from where my umbilical breather was, and that was all the way down there. We’re talking about micro-lacerations at the alveoli level. Since then, I’ve probably been getting secondary infections, and the longer everything goes on, the more likely this whole situation is going to lead to scarring.”

Rhode sighed and coughed again into his fist. He didn’t like to dwell on this stuff, but there’s nothing dumber than withholding information from your doctor. He looked up, and saw that Brother Eloft had collapsed onto the floor in shock.

Eloft’s eyes grew wide, and then he drew his knees into himself, until his shock melted into a pathetic looking grin.

“Amazing. I – should have guessed. Of course you understand – Ser Irving, it’s true that Heros come from another world, may I ask you that?”

Rhode hesitated. “There are certain matters of secrecy, which the Kingdom of Sacred reserves, and I might preserve for the purpose of its security,” he bullshitted.

“By the gods, the things you might know!” The goblin leapt to his feet, clearing a few extra inches into the air and startling Rhode. The man was full of barely restrained energy and he spun back around to Rhode. “I grew up hearing stories about Hero Summon, do you know that? We all do. Gods! Gii-Yome of Frawns, Cherry-Petal of Nippin, Second of Middle-Land. Every single one of them changed the world! Legends that defined the very centuries they walked in.” Eloft had an ecstatic expression on his face, like if he could grin any wider he might hurt himself. “That’s why I took this job, you see. If Heroes will walk the face of the Ring again, I want to be able to see it, and say I was there.”

Rhode’s mind was racing. He pushed backward onto the bed as it suffered under his weight. There was nowhere to retreat to, so he stopped himself. Obviously, this was an opportunity to learn more about his situation. But of all the likely things Rhode was planning for, feared or expect to find, the least of them was to find he had a fan.