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Shame On Me
Chapter 8 - Days Gone By

Chapter 8 - Days Gone By

The rays of sun hitting my uncovered face woke me up. Judging by its position, it was probably midday. I looked around my bed. The room was not mine. In fact, it didn’t look like a bedroom in any sense of the word. I started to panic, feeling a tight pressure on my chest.

There was equipment scattered around the place, along with a formation that seemed intended to deliver food and water to the room. It didn’t have any sort of bedside table or a chest of drawers. If anything, it was the storage room of a hospital. The storage room of a-

I’d passed out, I suddenly remembered, and my uncle was- he’d- no, he was fine. He must have called someone to help. He must have. That was the only explanation. I took in a deep breath to try and calm myself a bit. I decided to mediate, to get the worry out of my system as much as possible.

I couldn’t sit around and trust that someone would come and find me. I had to take matters into my own hands. That was, until I tried to move mine. I found them strapped to the bed, rough patchwork cloth binding them in place. I blinked as I could now see tiny needles poking out of my skin. Another spell most likely. My arms tensed up without a moment’s notice. The view of those needles simply awakened something primal, and I had to stop myself from trying to rip them out. Whoever had brought me to the hospital had mostly healed me, and my wounds were now mainly nonexistent, a fact that had no doubt cost us at least a quarter of our entire harvest.

Healing magic was pretty common, and most villages had someone who could perform vital recuperations, but it required so many additional preparations that it was supremely costly, with prices for the most severe of injuries going up to a month’s wages. Thankfully nobody had died, except for the Amrita, but that hardly merited even a curse. I wanted to raise both my hands to the sky, but since they were both tied down, I had to be happy with just my pure satisfaction and shit-eating grin. I realized I was holding back tears. I scrunched up my face to try not to cry. Now Marcus would survive. I could live the rest of my life with my best friend by my side.

The second chance that I’d received was truly a blessing.

Still, that hadn’t gone how I’d assumed it would. Why did it attack me to begin with? I mean, it wasn’t like... I’d been making a plan to kill it. That had to be it. It didn’t only react to physical attacks, but bloodlust as well. When it realized I was contemplating its death, it decided to take me out. I looked around again. There were no windows, and the only door was closed. An incantation was holding it in place. I could do something about those straps, if I just... there! I glimpsed a small knife hidden behind the blankets. You couldn’t do anything with it normally, but with only a few tricks...

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

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“Here, go like this,” the woman said, holding my hand and instructing me, the blade cutting through the fabric like it was tissue. “Make sure it’s steady,” she insisted. “Don’t want to cut your hand off.”

“Listen, Lorena,” I began to explain. “I get you think it’s important for us all to have basic skills, but surely this is never going to be useful.”

She gasped, eyes wide. “I cannot believe you just said that.” The corners of her mouth were coming up to grin. She pricked my hand slightly. “Hey, what was that!” I protested.

“For being an idiot,” she said, smirking. “Now, come on, go like this,” she repeated, staring into my eyes.

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The straps fell away, hitting the floor, and I hid the knife next to one of the moldier looking contraptions.

Now I just had to figure out how to get those fucking needles out. My left forearm seemed to have less of them in it, so I started to slide them out and throw away with my right hand. It didn’t really hurt, but it felt so uncomfortable, like I’d been pierced through my very soul, and the sensation was that of a wet and sticky insect ripping its disgusting body away from my flesh.

Once my left arm was done, I started to work on my right, continuing at the same gentle pace as before. It was a lot harder, since the needles were clearly doing their part to stabilize me, but I managed to pick them out carefully.

It left me quite fatigued, but it was more important for me to get out and see if my uncle was all right. I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself if something had happened to him because of me, given the way he had seemed ready to throw away his life even if I was only his nephew.

While I prepared to get up and exit, I put my ear to the wood and attempted to hear anything outside the door. I stood still for a couple of seconds, and at that moment two pairs of feet were making their way to my room. They must have calculated how long the medicine would keep me sedated.

“He was in critical condition when he came in,” said a very high-pitched female voice. “I’m impressed at your work, doctor. The fesval operation you performed went off without a hitch.”

“Ah, do not thank me needlessly, it was the work of the One True God for certain,” came a gravelly male voice. “No mortal hands would have been able to fix that boy fast enough. Even in tandem with that miracle I wasn’t at ease that his legs would make it. They were completely crushed underneath that stone wall when we arrived.” He came to a stop right outside the door. “Of course, your help proved invaluable. I see great potential in your future.”

“Thank you Doctor Bega.”

“Like I said, there’s no need.” There was a brief pause. “Now, let us see how our patient is recovering,” he said, shoving the door open, right in my face.