Slowly, golden threads of light formed in the darkness. Cove selected one, and a polished stone floor formed beneath my feet. Cove dropped my arm.
I toppled, before I caught myself, flashing my attention to the carefully carved stone walls of the square room we were in. Instantly I relaxed, and exhaustion struck me with great force, causing me to stagger. We were home.
Covd dropped Ranch to the floor, raising a hand to his forehead. His body waved like a weed in the wind before he steadied, his hand falling back down. Cove strode forward and paused at the door. “The infirmary is this way.”
I fingered the slice on my arm, watching as the newly formed scab shifted over my skin and wincing as my skin pulled underneath it. It was deep enough that I probably needed stitches. I nodded and walked forward, Ani hovering by my feet.
The infirmary was a small area with two individual rooms for recovery. Two nurses, dressed in white robes, manned the counter, gossiping. They looked up as the door shut behind us, dropping clipboards of paper on the counter in front of us.
The brunette nurse snatched the clipboard from my hands as soon as the pen lifted from the final box and ushered me down a hallway, gently shutting Ani off in the waiting room. We entered a standard-looking doctor's office, though the base of the cabinets and chair were constructed with stone, the doors made of simple white painted wood. The bed in the center looked like it had been purchased from the same place as any standard doctor's office. In fact, it probably was.
She shut the door behind her, scanning over the sheet as I dropped my backpack. “Anything besides the cut on your arm you want me to look at?”
“No.”
She hung the clipboard on the limestone wall behind her, the combination of her white robs, the bright white lights above, and the reflection from the polished wall and floor casting a painful halo in my eyes. The nurse noticed my squinting and smiled sympathetically.
“It’s bright in here, isn’t it?” without waiting for an answer, she paced forward, yanking my arm up to inspect the wound. Her tongue clicked.
“Jacket off,” she ordered.
She continued speaking as her cool fingers prodded and pried. “I told them when they built this place years ago that it would be a problem, but does anyone listen to me? No.” She paused to grab a gel she plastered over the wound. My skin tingled, instantly going numb. She spun around on her chair, pulling a needle and thread from a drawer. Her hands moved swiftly in practiced grace as she sewed the wound shut.
She tilted my arm, verifying the tight shining black stitches were properly added in the light. Satisfied, she pulled tightly on the thread and finished it off with a neat little knot, my skin tugging painlessly together. It was an odd sensation, and I found I didn’t like it much.
“Is magic not frequently used to heal?” I questioned, recalling the scene in the cavern and searching for a change in topic.
The nurse patted my wrist lightly, discarding the thread in the washer and pulling out a clean wipe to clear away the blood. “I had to clear out the debris and clean the wound first. Otherwise, there’s a risk of infection or cysts as the skin reforms around the leftovers.”
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“I thought the gel was just for numbing?’
“It numbs, but it also draws out impurities and disinfects. It’s an ancient recipe.”
She grabbed my wrist, and her refreshing magic bushed up against me like a cool summer’s breeze. I paid close attention as the wound on my arm started healing before my eyes. The nurse leaned back before the wound was fully healed, taking the cool air with her. Sweat dripped down from her brow, and she gave a soft smile.
“This is all I can do for you.”
I jerked back in surprise and muttered without thinking. “But, Cove…”
The nurse raised her eyebrows. “What–no, I don’t want to know. No wonder you seem to misunderstand how this works. Listen, that man is far more powerful than your average mage. The things he can do…” She shook her head in awe. “Hospitals are filled with exceptional mages and keep a reservoir of collected magic available for emergencies. Even then, we very rarely heal someone completely. It’s not feasible.”
I recalled Cove’s injuries and how he’d completely managed to heal his head wound, leaving the bruises only partially recovered.
She pulled me back into reality with a warning. “Be careful you don’t spend too much time around him. I don’t want to see you killed because you misunderstand how magic works for most of us.”
Her sincerity shone nearly as bright as the light she was standing under. “I will.” The difference in strength between Cove and me was as vast as the ocean, and it was difficult to forget when I was faced with reminders at every turn.
“Now, come back in another week, and I’ll take the stitches out for you.”
I agreed as she led me back to the waiting room, where I patiently sat in a chair, waiting for Cove. Ani, angry that I had abandoned him, leaped into my lap and pawed at my chest. Ranch followed, and I patted their heads as we waited.
Cove arrived shortly, the molted browns of his bruises still visible beneath his t-shirt. He thanked his nurse as I stood up, knocking Ani and Ranch to the ground. The nurse paced back behind her desk, and Cove said, “I don’t know about you, but I’m exhausted. I’m going to head home. I’ll help you write your report tomorrow. You should get some sleep as well.” His sentences were short and slightly disjointed. He yawned, giving me a light pat on the shoulder.
We split at a nearby portal, and I used the reserved energy to teleport as close as possible to my apartment. I didn’t have enough magic to refill what I’d used, so I didn’t bother. I hefted my backpack on my shoulder, adjusting the weight as I stepped out into the bustling evening Chicago streets. It was dark and cold, but that didn’t stop people from rushing down, speaking loudly as they went.
I couldn't help but give a tired smile at the slight, letting the lively city wash away the dead one I’d spent far too much time in. People grimaced and parted around me as I walked, spitting nasty comments at me as I stepped by. At the sight of my full backpack, dirty hair, torn-up clothes, and the exhaustion, dirt, and blood weighing on my body, it was no wonder. A couple of young, naive people ran up to me, offering me cash or to drive me to a hospital. I brushed past them with tired reassurances. At best, people probably assumed I was homeless. At worst, they’d look at my injuries and believe I was a gang member.
In my apartment building, I habitually stopped at the bottom of the steps and tilted my head to look at the flights looming above me. My tired body protested at the thought of climbing them, and I turned, using the elevator instead.
In the entryway of my apartment, I kicked the door shut behind me, kicking my shoes off my feet, dropping the dirty backpack to the floor with the promise to go through it later. My stomach growled, and I detoured into my kitchen, feeding Ani and taking out a plate of leftovers, and tossing it into the microwave. It only took a few minutes, but it was longer than I liked.
The microwave dinged, and I pulled the leftover beef burghandy out and grabbed a fork, sitting down at the table. My hands moved mechanically, scooping the food and shoveling it into my mouth. The exhaustion I felt made it tasteless, which I felt was a waste.
I scooped up another bite, placing it in my mouth–
KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK.
I ignored the door. Whoever it was could come back later when I was awake.
I went to scoop up another bite–
CLICK.
The door unlocked. Someone jiggled the doorknob, flinging the door open and sending it slamming into the spring with a crash.