Jorun dreamed of his mother that night.

It was that same moment, her looking up and smiling. Her hands were covered in dirt and mud. A small green plant was in one hand. She laughed at something.

Then everything died. The green garden fading to cold lifeless rock.

As the world faded into the barren landscape, the warmth of his mother’s smile faded. A hand reached out to her. Thin cracks wrapped the hand in their tiny lines. A piece of one hand flaked away, exposing the tissue and bone underneath. It was as hard and lifeless as the rocky landscape. The blood sparkling like thousands of tiny crystals.

His eyes drifted to his mother, still seated; but now her entire body was lifeless stone. It cracked and crumbled away, revealing the flesh beneath.

“Pathetic.”

A deep voice boomed.

The pain in his crumbling hand grew white hot, and Jorun jerked awake. He rubbed his hand desperate to bring it back to life and realized that it was untouched. He stared at it in the morning light, the pain had been so real he could still feel it.

“The flesh is weak,” he muttered.

Jorun looked around. There was no one there. It had been a dream.

“Latty,” he called, and he felt amazing to see her vaguely visible form in the light.

“What?”

“No one was here, right?” Jorun couldn’t shake the feeling that someone or something had passed through.

“I didn’t hear or see anyone. It was really boring, so I wandered around a little.” She looked puzzled, “Are you alright?”

Jorun didn’t see any reason to answer the question. She didn’t actually notice the answer anyway. There was no point in responding.

He slipped out of bed, “I am going to get started a little early. Go back and wander around if you want.”

She vanished.

He filled the bucket with water from the well. It was cool and fresh, and the moment it touched the skin of his hand, the pain vanished. He washed had planned to just wash his face, but he suddenly felt the need to clean his entire body.

When he was done, he spent a few minutes tidying up the house. He boiled an egg and ate it on toast.

“Jorun, someone is coming.” Latty whispered to him.

He froze. He had gotten into the habit of using Latty to look around, but there was usually nothing to see and it startled him to hear her warn him.

“Can you be more specific?”

“A villager I think. They are running.”

“Running?”

She nodded and imitated someone running and stumbling as she floated above him.

“They are moving like this.”

Jorun frowned, “Thanks, go check out the village for me.”

He finished off his breakfast as he waited for Latty to return.

“Something is definitely happening. People are all running around with sticks of metal and wood. They are shouting a lot.”

A pit formed in his stomach. Had someone seen him do something? Had he Narlin realized his true intentions while they talked?

He pushed them aside as he realized that they wouldn’t have sent one person if that was the case. He got up and started drying out the pot over the fire.

The man ran into sight when the pot was almost dry. The last traces of water vanishing into puffs of steam. Jorun took the pot off the open flame and set it aside to cool. Then he stood up and walked towards the man.

“Help…” he panted. Jorun had seen him quite a few times, but the man spent most of his time working in the mine. So he had no idea what his name was.

“You are a doctor, right?”

Jorun gulped. He hadn’t really known where the rumor about his family had come from, but most of the people seemed convinced that his family had been a traveling medical troop.

“What’s wrong?” He replied. If they needed a doctor, someone was probably dying. An excellent opportunity.

“Bandits… they attacked the Hodges walking back from Westshire.”

Westshire was the town to the east of here, and it was a major landmark for the locals in the village to go visit from time to time. Jorun didn’t know who the Hodges were, save that they had been visiting family in Westshire since he had arrived in the small mining village.

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“I need to know what kind of injury it is.” He turned and went into the house, grabbing his tool wrap. He had put it together when he had preserved everyone from the village. He had kept it with him, because some of the tools where harder to replace and he didn’t want to risk needing them and not having them.

“A cut leg. It’s bad. He’s bled a lot already, and it’s still bleeding despite their best efforts.”

Jorun ran. A leg injury could kill someone in minutes. It was one of the fastest ways to kill a person, if the correct blood vessel was damaged.

When he got closer to the village, someone met him and waved him towards a house. Inside the house, a group of people were gathered around a bed. A long streak of blood led from the outside to there, and a pool was forming at the base.

It looked bad, but it wasn’t as much blood as it could have been.

“Let me through!” Jorun shouted, and the crowd and chattering people vanished.

The man lay, pale and panting on the bed. His leg was propped up and several belts had been tightened around a long gash on the outside of the leg. It wasn’t near any vital spots that Jorun knew of. The only reason he was pale was…

“How long ago did this happen?”

A man appeared, holding a cap in hand, “His wife and daughters came running into the village an hour ago. We went and found him after that.”

“Three hours?” Jorun snapped.

The man’s head bobbled in a hasty nod.

Jorun realized he could save this man.

He knew everything that he needed in order to do this.

“I need clean, white towels boiled in water. Like for giving birth. Anyone have strong alcohol?”

Several people moved, and Jorun focused on setting up something to restrict the blood loss better. There were three belts all tied hastily along the wound. Jorun rolled his eyes.

The heart moves the blood.

Anyone should know where the heart is. How can the mess something like this up?

He pulled off his own belt, and wrapped it tightly over the leg as close to the waist as he could get it. Then he grabbed what looked like a walking stick and began tightening the belt with it. The blood seeping from the leg stopped almost immediately.

“Hold this.” he didn’t look to see, but a hand held the stick, “It’s blocking the blood flow. If you let it go, he will bleed to death.”

The hand tightened it’s grip.

“Push into the twist to keep the belt tight.”

A pair of hot, steamy towels appeared before him, and he flicked open his tool wrap. A thin bone blade was perfect for this. He pulled the tool out and sliced the three belts off. The pant leg was the next to go. It was a bloody mess and mixed heavily with dirt and grime.

He put the blade down and began wiping the wound clean with a towel. The wound was jagged and chunks of muscle and fat hung in twisted lumps.

“The sword that cut him was dull, correct?”

Someone held a sword in front of him. It was chipped and the tip was broken clean off.

“I don’t need it. Just… Never mind. Take it away.”

He picked up his fine edge and began cleaning out the damaged tissue. The man groaned in pain.

“I need that alcohol for him. Now! And don’t give it to me. Get him drunk.”

Someone lifted the man’s head and put a large brown jug to his lips. He coughed, but it sounded like he drank deeply.

Jorun pulled the wound open, peering inside. It was too dark to see well.

There were several pieces of something deep in the wound.

He pulled out a grabbing tool and began to work the pieces out of the tissue. His hands slipped on the hot warm blood, and he almost lost the object.

Jorun paused and took a breath. It was harder doing this with someone who was alive. After he collected his thoughts, he worked the piece back out. Then the next piece and finally the last one. They each looked like flakes of metal.

He examined the wound one last time.

“Give me the alcohol, and someone hold him down. He won’t like this part.”

As the jug was handed to him, he looked away from the leg and realized three strong men where already holding him down.

“Uh, thanks.” He poured the alcohol into the wound and then drained it back out.

It wasn’t pretty, but it should do the job.

He examined it carefully and then pulled out the needle and thread. He had never done this with a living person, but he had to just stay focused.

In. Up. Over. Cross. Down. In.

He repeated the motion as he worked his way down the wound. It took three sets before he felt comfortable sewing across the deepest part of the cut, and two to finish it off.

There were still spots where the wound bled a little, but he was running low on thread. He suspected no one would like where he had gotten it. So he choose to make do with the small amount he had on hand.

He looked it over and began wrapping up the wound in the remaining towels. He didn’t get it as tight as he might have wanted it, but it should be enough.

He collapsed to the floor.

As he lay panting, he realized he had come here to harvest the man’s life energy. Not to save him. It had felt natural to do this though, and he knew that he couldn’t have done it without the knowledge the tome had given him.

He looked at his bloody hands. They were shaking uncontrollably.

“Jorun, you did it lad.”

“Lad, you alright.”

“Someone help us move the doctor.”

His vision blurred as he drifted towards unconscious.

“He’s a kid.”

“Too much pressure.”

“Saved… life”

He thankfully didn’t dream this time.

When he woke up, he found himself wrapped in the awfully warm bedding again. His clothes had been removed and the blood washed off of his body. He looked around and saw some of his clothing. It looked freshly laundered. His tool wrap was there as well. Each of the pieces had been put back and the whole thing was perfectly clean.

“Wow, I didn’t know you were a doctor too. I guess the rumors were right.”

Jorun looked to see Latty’s face poking through the wall.

He didn’t have the energy to respond.

A sweet-faced woman came in with his clothes in hand, “Thank you, good sir, for what you did for my husband. We can never thank you enough.”

Jorun waved a hand, “I did it for myself.”

She plopped the clothes on the bed, “Now, now, don’t go saying that. You still saved him.”

He wanted to protest, but his was too tired, “I need to go check the wound.”

“Betty has been keeping an eye on it. She knows how to keep bandages clean. Get yourself dressed and get something to eat.”

With that she turned and left the room, giving him the privacy to get dressed.

He did so, and found a nice meal waiting for him.

It tasted awful compared to Narlin’s meal.

A crowd of people stood outside, watching him eat.

“What’s that about?”

“Oh, they are just so happy to know that you saved Mike. They want to thank you, that is all.”

Jorun felt awful, remembering his intention to kill Mike Hodges.

Everyone was laughing clapping him on the back, so Jorun did his best to excuse himself and wander back to his house.

It was quiet there.