My stitches were removed the next morning.
I yanked a large crossbody bag off its spot, accidentally spilling the Heirs clothes on my head in the process. Planning to deal with them later, I haphazardly shoved them back in their place and dusted off the sparsely used bag. Occasionally, I’d pack my laptop in it for work. This time, I slipped the Zenith Online book into it, planning to stop by the Ventosus library after training for a relaxing evening.
Ani was still napping when I left, and I left him to his own devices.
I arrived a little early to the stitch removal appointment and pulled the Zenith Online novel out to read while I waited. I wasn’t more than a few pages in when the same nurse from last time, whose name I hadn’t bothered to learn, stepped out from the back and waved me over. I tucked my book away and followed her. The bright white of the room was as painful and obnoxious as ever.
She had me shrug off my jacket. Her forceful fingers wrapped around my wrist, tugging my arm to her nearly as soon as it was free. Approving noises came from her direction as she tilted it this way and that.
“Good. It’s healing well,” she said with a soft smile.
She whirled her chair around, pulling a pair of medical scissors and spinning back to where I’d left my arm outstretched. She slid the cold metal of the scissors between my skin and the thread of the stitches, and I anticipated a pain that never came. The thread came loose with a soft snip, and she set the scissors off to the side before gently tugging on the stitches. They slid easily and painlessly from my skin, tickling slightly as the thread bruised against the healed skin surrounding it.
Before she sent me on my way, I asked her a question that had been on my mind since our last visit. “Can you please give me some of that salve?” When she looked questioningly at me, I added, “I think it would be beneficial if something happened off-world.”
Her confusion cleared, followed by realization. “Of course.” She turned, pulled a sealed jar from beneath the cabinet, and placed it in my palm. All business, she pointed at the label. “Use instructions are on this label. Have you taken any first-aid classes? Magical or otherwise.”
“I know basic first aid. Not magical.”
Her index finger went up to her chin as she considered. “It would be good for you to understand what us normal mages can do….let me see…” her voice dipped as she thought.
Suddenly, her eyes snapped back into focus on my face, startling me. She flew around, quickly jotting something down on a notepad.
I inspected my arm as she did, noting the strange, tiny unscabbed holes marring my skin where the stitches had been.
There was a tearing sound as she ripped the note out of the notebook, handing it to me. Written on it was a title, On the Basics of Magical First Aid. “This book is very thorough in describing magical means of interventions and their limitations,” she said, giving me a pointed look.
I took it from her and tucked both items in my tote bag with a profound “Thank you.”
“I don’t want you getting into any trouble you can’t handle. If you have any questions, email the nurse's station, and one of us will do our best to answer for you, okay?”
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“I will.”
Now that I had the basics of temporary physical magic down, Cove focused on teaching me how to augment my strength with magic. Without as much power as Cove, I couldn’t quite replicate the immense strength I’d had at the end of What Lies Ahead, but I was able to inch just a tiny bit closer to that feeling.
As the hot strength flooded through my veins, it occurred to me that perhaps my perceptions of power and strength were wrong. While I’d still argue to my dying breath that knowledge was more valuable and provided more power than strength, I’d seen that proved brute strength had its moments of usefulness as well. Some situations were best solved through physical strength and not keen minds.
A dark part of my mind wondered how different my life would have been if I’d had that strength when I was younger. Experience taught me that dwelling on the thought would only breed resentment. And so, I shoved it away with the memories and the sensations, forcing myself to forget.
While Cove headed to his office after training, I headed to the library, clutching the title the nurse had given me tightly in my hand.
I found the book relatively quickly, guided by my library experience. A shy, quiet voice I could hardly hear over the dim background noise called out as I tugged the book from the confines of shelf.
“Hayden!”
Book in hand, I turned to see Leala running up to me as her stack of books leaned precariously in her arms. I didn’t need magical foresight to predict what would happen next. She lifted her chin–perhaps to say something else–and the books teetered in her arms, then collapsed into a pile on the floor.
Leala tripped over her books in her haste, planting her face right into the floor. I cringed in a mixture of second-hand embarrassment and sympathy. She recovered admirably quickly, her dark curly hair slipping forward to curtain her face as she restacked her books, leaving one off to the side.
I knelt down, helping her pick them up once more. As I held the final book out, intending to place it on top of the new tower, Leala hastily threw her arms out to guard the stack, sending the books spilling to the floor once more. “Wait!”
My hand, and the book, hovered in place.
“Take it. It’s the book you wanted to borrow,” she said, restacking her books. I tilted the book in question, taking a look at the title. It was The Origins of Magic, the book I’d shown interest in during our first meeting. I pulled it back, placing it and On the Basics of Magical First Aid into my tote bag beside Zenith Online.
“Thank you.”
Her responding grin was all teeth, bright and cheery. “You’re welcome!” she chirped. “There’s no waiting list for it, so you can put it off to the side as you read the books you need to.”
I’d almost forgotten her pinpoint ability to read my face.
Leala laughed at my expression. “You look confused,” she said kindly. “I’m all ears if you need help deciding what to read next,” she pointed out her admittedly rather large ears as she spoke, emphasizing her statement.
I found myself smiling at the gesture and helped her to her feet. “Perhaps I’ll take you up on that.” At any rate, it would be good to have an experienced mage’s opinion.
Partially so I didn’t have to help her pick them up again, I lifted the stack of books into my arms without warning. “I’ll carry these for you. Where were you heading?”
She flailed her arm out, gesturing to a room to the side. “The waterfall room.” She propped the door open for me as I carried the tower of books inside, dropping them onto the side table next to the couch.
“Thank you,” she said shyly.
“You’re welcome.”
We stood awkwardly around the room, both unwilling to take the only chair. Leala unceremoniously found a place free of rocks and dropped to sit on the artificial forest floor. I sank where I stood until I sat crosslegged across from her. It would be even more awkward, I felt, to discuss this with her while she sat on the floor and me in the chair. If we were both on the floor, at least we were on the same level.
As she already knew the basics of what was going on, I told her the dilemma I was stuck in.