The train usually arrives early in the morning. Milo kneaded his forehead, eyes squinting at the sun irritating him. Wiping his knees, pulling on the hem of his brown coat.
He takes the ticket stub out of his pocket and hands it over to the conductor. The conductor who was shorter than him, around his chest, was looking up first before eyeing the bag he carries.
“So, what do you do, Sir?”
“Physician. A traveling one.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, I travel around. Uh, do I have to submit my papers?”
“No, this ain’t the crossings so you good.”
Milo got inside the train cabin. He found his booth and sat close to the windowsill where he watched the grassland blur to the background.
The train he is on passes through a mountain carved tunnel to go through it. There are strange hills and small mountains in the distance which seem to be the shape of a creature. The townsfolk told him that there were once giants that walked among them.
There are creatures who are quite similar to these beings. Like the land had covered them after years of covering them up. Milo didn’t know where to go first. He asked around, then met a gentleman in a saloon watching his cattle.
“Morning Mister. How may I help you?”
Milo took a piece of paper out. “I had a letter from a woman named Santi who asked for my help.”
The gentleman takes the paper, and reads it. “Oh, Santi, she livin off the path. You can find the farm easily, Mister. Uh, you a healer, Mister?”
Milo pockets the items. “That is correct.”
“Oh, we haven’t got any healer in a long while. Trip’s in the other islands ain’t safe lately. And Skyships are too costly.”
Milo raises a brow. “Prices are up?”
The gentleman raises his cup. “It has been. Hmm, they've been using some of these orbs to raise their ships to the sky.”
Skyships and trains are the methods of transportation around the island mostly. There are train tracks that are made from strange ancient structures constructed ages ago. The train’s affordable, while the Skyships robs you these days.
“Orbs are lacking?”
“Making them can be troublesome these days. They are volatile. I think you have to identify the color of the orb to make sure that they are the right one.”
Hands inside his pockets. Milo adjusts his hat’s brim and then fan himself as the sun bears down on him. “It’s that way, right?”
“If you have time, can you visit again, Doctor? We would like to have some help. Get my folks checked out.”
Milo sets out to find the road the man was talking about. It is an off-road path. Ill-maintained with signs of tracks from carriages and animal-towed carts. Fallen lumber on sides and overgrown vegetation that dances along the wind. Leaves fall on the beaten path and once you get out of the forest path, is an open grassland with cattle grazing and shepherds watching their flock with bolt-action rifles.
One of them approaches Milo with a finger hovering above the trigger. “You look lost, stranger. Mind if you tell me what you want?”
“I’m looking for Santi's farm? I am a physician that they requested.”
“Santi?” The rifle-wielding man looks to his assistant. “That over there is their farm.”
“He probably wants to take a look at the daughter, sir. Heard she was having them blues.”
“I see. Well, that checks out. You can go in peace, Doctor. Would you mind if you stop? I’ll let the whole town know that you are around.”
“I don’t mind. I might stay here for a while.”
Milo bids them goodbye and finds the Santi’s farm sign. Dirt-ridden fences with black spotted animals with their beady black eyes staring him down.
“A cow… that is neat,” said Milo, he looks around, then pulls the bell on their picket fence.
It didn’t take long for a gentleman with a straw hat swinging a gun on his hip, thumbs in his belt, to appear out of the fence. He scrutinizes Milo for a second before hurrying to the picket fence, and swings it to the side.
“Ah, I hope it is you, Doctor!” he wiggles his finger as he invites Milo in.
“I hope so too. You are Santi, right?”
“We are!” he grins. “I was skeptical! I was worried that you had forgotten that we exist, Doctor!”
Santi lets him inside the farmhouse. He taps his gun and leads him in the house. Tacky photos, portraits, wooden panels, and prey hung on the wall. An animal’s head is hung on the fireplace and they named it Eto.
Upstairs, on the fourth floor, is the room of the patient. Milo finds the patient and takes a knee next to the patient. A quick glance was all Milo needed to understand what the sickness of the daughter was.
He takes his tools out and finds syringes placed inside this wooden cylinder. One cylinder contained the syringes and tools of his trade while the rest contained the flasks of medicine sealed with a cork. Holding the back of the patient’s head gently, he let her drink the medicine and watched the liquid dry on the patient’s lips.
The patient stirs, her eyelashes move. Reflecting Milo’s face and calm and docile smile.
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
“Hush, Miss. Your throat is dry. Drink water first and then ease yourself into talking.”
Santi fills a glass of water and eases her daughter to drink it. Milo eases the wrist of the daughter, and waits for her to get comfortable. Asking about any pains and discomfort. She has been struggling to get up and has been on the bed. Her muscles are sore and there is sharp stinging pain on her lower legs. Milo takes out some pills and tells her father about what she needs to eat, drink, and take so she can come back without permanent damage to her body.
“T-thank you.”
“My please. I’ll leave you two alone for now.”
Milo takes his tools with him and walks to the porch. Resting his butt on the bench while watching the cattle graze the land. Milo had been traveling the land for a while. Taking his time to observe the local fauna and leave notes about his services.
For five years he was doing that.
It was a profession that kept feeding him. If he doesn't have the coins, he usually survives through the land. Hunting down prey or gathering berries he can find.
After a short and easy rest. Mr. Santi returned with bank notes. Milo counted the notes and coins before issuing a prescription of drugs and medicine his daughter needs.
With the daughter healed. Milo found no reason to stay at the Santi’s farm.
He bid them a goodbye and followed the path back.
Milo made his way to the tavern. He perused the menu first and then ate lamb and oatmeal. It was quite the weird combination and yet it was filling.
“Pardon me, good Sir, but may I know if you are a practitioner of the medicinal arts?”
“Indeed. Is there something wrong?”
The owner of the bar explains to Milo the ailments of the residents. From the look of it. They have been having stomach aches and have been vomiting.
Milo agreed to find the place. He took his time to walk the unpaved path. Watching the four-legged creatures of this region trot past him. Once in a while he’d stopped to look at the moss-covered buildings. It seems to be everywhere where he goes. Old castles and marble buildings that no one goes near, fearing they’ll get cursed or meet an untimely end from old rusted traps.
He didn’t make a habit of entering them. There are times where he is curious about their insides, but mostly he stayed away because of how dangerous it is.
A few minutes into the unpaved path. He found the community where the barman told him. The place was hugging a small hill and is near this small body of water that has an islet in the middle of it with a small dock.
Appearing out of nowhere. It was easy to spot him. Two or three men carrying guns came to meet him. Straw hats sheltering their heads from the intense sunlight.
“What can I do for fer ya, friend?”
Milo took out the note he got from the barman. It was far easier to let someone show his intentions than try to convince him. He learned that well.
“What’s this?”
One of them read the note. Milo was eyeing the finger on the trigger. He’d guessed people like him were always untrained or they were ready to shoot him.
“Oh, a Doctor!”
The men welcomed him to the village and told everyone to gather up so they could get checked. He had to check with the most sick and after that he checked on the adults of the community.
“I told you it’s the spirits!”
Milo listened to the elder. There was no harm to listening to them. Though he sometimes thinks their idea of healing can be somewhat archaic and unreliable. It was a strange world after all.
After listening to the elders. Milo found the water source they are using. All of their symptoms sound familiar and a short examination of it was enough. It seems that they are using the water here, not knowing their own excrements are being deposited into the water source.
Further investigation also revealed to Milo that even though they are using wooden pipes to direct their wastes. It still seeps on the water.
Finishing his investigation. He told the community leader about what he discovered and how they can be treated from their illness.
“So we just need to take the meds, right?”
Milo was sure the leader would try to do this. So he insisted on what they should do.
“If you continue on like this. I’d be quite troubling if you can’t use it.”
“What do you mean?”
“This could make you… childless.”
“Really?”
Milo made a serious face. You threaten them with their manhood leaving them and you know you’ll get to them faster than the threat of their stomach.
“What should we do, Doctor?”
“I will tell you. I can share my knowledge and impart it. Though I would need a place to stay if possible.”
“The payment?”
“You can pay me with a meal and I shall ask no more. I will also go to the town. Will that be okay?”
“Of course! Please do!”
With the agreement. Milo got a room in their inn and placed his heavy luggage on the bed. Taking his time to make a plan for the community while noting down how much they need to make it work.
He had to talk with woodcutters and asked the community leader if they would help with this small project. It didn’t take long for the men particularly to understand what they would lose.
Milo dedicated time for them. He chatted with the villagers and learned about their lives while sometimes wondering about his place in this world.
Throughout the hot morning sun where they would work their fields. On the evening nights where he’d take his time to understand what their values are. To Milo, there’s no great lesson learned from simply assuming.
Using their free time to dig up the wooden pipes and fixing them so they don’t have to worry about leakage. This small community knew how to help each other well. And by the time the pipes were done Milo came to realize he had spent a month with the residents of the community.
After checking their health and making sure their water source is safe to drink. Milo packed his luggage and went to the leader of the community.
“Leaving already, Doc?”
“Yeah. I think we’re done here.”
“You did us good, Doc. You went another mile for us and we appreciate that.”
“Nonsense. You all did the work while I just watched and told you how to make it safe.”
“May the winds be cool, Doctor.”
“Thank you.”
Milo left silently early in the morning. Walking back to the town quietly without a sound and sitting on the train station.
It had been years since Milo started wandering this world.
Waking up inside a church bed with the window drapes flying over him. The sister who brought him to church told him they saw him collapsed on the beach.
Milo could remember his name.
And that he wasn’t from this world.
He had to adjust to the world and thought to himself how he could use the skills he had to be a healer.
It felt natural to Milo.