It happens to be another one of those days where Timo ran away from work. He kept begging for assignments to Angel Lane, and when there were none, resorted to excuses: "My cousin is sick! I need to visit him!" Timo zoomed away, leaving behind a bewildered Kazerus.

Unfortunately, children tend to be fast and dastardly, shimmying through crevices and fence gaps without a second thought, while grown men have to contemplate consequences. Timo rolls past the fields golden and green, skips over silt runoff, and congeals within shadows when the sentries pucker up. Most of them are weary farmers, and while their hearing is functional, they lack the child’s eye. They’re more concerned with inbound visitors. Trawling a vine-ridden stack of forgotten barrels, the tips of the fence posts worn dull and flat, Timo slips over the pickets to freedom.

After traveling the outerworld for some time, he finally sees the stone porticals rise from the ground, half-complete, a tetromino-arrangement of bricks. Timo smoothes out creases from his shirt, and bypasses the construction site, entering the clinic.

He taps on the ajar panel. In the room with the secretary, she peers up from a long scroll.

Timo swallows. "Um, do you take apprentices?"

The lady stretches her eyebrows and lowers the scroll flat to her desk. "That’s up to the Magess. You want to join us?"

Timo digs his foot into the stone and fidgets. "Can I?"

She looks left and right, as if the answer would exist in a book on the shelf. With a deep sigh, she says, "You can follow Gornius. Help him out, get your feet wet." She walks to the door and slides it open, then crosses the boundary between wood and stone. "Come."

When they reach the end of the hallway, it fans into a large, square room. A giant furnace, curved like a spoon and taking up the whole back wall, chuffs away, blasting them with steam and heat. Shoveling at the coal is the ancient man.

"Go say hi." The secretary grins and nudges Timo forward. "The Magess has her hands full. If you do well, Gornius can put in a word for you."

Timo staggers forward. "Hello."

The old man ignores Timo, grunting and shoveling more from a sooty sack. Timo glances backwards, and the secretary already distanced herself several paces away on her return to the office.

At the top of his lungs, Timo screams to Gornius, "Hello!"

Gornius sticks his shovel into the bag. Slowly, like a jammed cabinet, he turns around. "Hello? Who are you?" he shouts back.

"My name is Timo! I am here to help you!"

"You’re an herbalist? About time they found one of those." Gornius grooves his back, bending it to and fro. He walks up to Timo and scans him. "You’re short. Are you old enough to be one?"

"No, I’m here to help!"

"Oh, another help!" Gornius lifts a skeptical eyebrow, and his eye shines. "You really are short."

"I’m nine years old!" Timo hops up and down to release his frustration.

"What’s Brena doing these days? They keep getting younger and younger." Gornius clicks his tongue in disapproval. "Just kidding. What are ya here for?"

His throat sore from yelling, Timo says in a quieter voice, "I’m here to kill you."

"What?"

"I would like to apprentice as a healer!"

Gornius sends out an arm and says, "Ah, you’re one of those. Where’s the coin?"

Timo yells, "What the hell are you talking about? I don’t have a goddamn cent on me."

Gornius pats Timo on the shoulder. "So you’re here to work?"

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"Yes!?"

The old man rocks the shovel handle back and forth. "You good at digging?"

On the first day at the Angel Lane, Timo does not catch a single glimpse of miracles. He helps the old man ferry the dead from the patient room to the furnace. It’s nasty, as you can imagine. The slow burn of cremation takes time. It is also incredibly efficient. There are grates on top of the furnace, with many brown pots roasting on them. The heat slow-cooks all manner of brews and potions.

Using a great iron paddle, Gornius scrapes out the ashes and bones, while Timo switches the urns for refilling. Not everyone can afford a healer to visit them in the comfort of their home, and not everyone has relatives who will attend their funeral.

When it is finally late afternoon, they take their urns and head to the farmstead out back, a great stretch of land granted by imperial mandate. A flock of sheep graze in a pen, but Gornius and Timo veer away towards a downhill avenue. Below, a stream of water rushes through the sapling forest. Birdsong plays in the distance.

Gornius dips his hand into his urn, then scatters the warm ashes. "May their journey be peaceful." The faint breeze from the stream carries the flecks far and beyond, into the deep orange horizon.

"May their journey be peaceful," Timo repeats, scattering his own handful of ashes. Like grey moths, they disappear in a chalky trail.

The both of them repeat the scattering, in a meditative fashion, until they run out.

They take the bones of the deceased to the orchard. The wind halts where trees shield the garden from convection, wrapping them in dew and mist. Haunting the treetops are a few heirloom plums, most of them having been picked. The orchard swirls with a pleasant cocktail fragrance, pear and peach cultivars also growing in sections beyond. In front of several plum trees, giant holes have been dug out.

Gornius stops at a pit and dumps the bones unceremoniously. He lifts his nose at Timo, indicating for him to do the same. After they set the urns down, they shovel dirt from a nearby mound into the pit.

Timo picks a reddish-purple plum and eats it. Gornius glares at him. Timo grins, the fruit skin stuck to his gums, his fingers sticky with juice. Gornius sighs in resignation. They’ve only eaten a few pecks of bread and tofu today.

Suddenly, with a deep and serious voice, the old man asks, "Will you be back?"

Is that a challenge? "Of course."

Gornius smiles, just the corner of his mouth curling. "I see."

The urns emptied, they return to the clinic. Gornius and Timo loiter near the entrance of the main patient room.

When the Angel emerges from the flaps, Gornius says, "Magess Vantegia, will the night keep you busy?"

The healer says, "I’ve got time right now. What’s up?" She tilts her ponytailed head at Timo.

"Well, this prospective newcomer has been waiting for you." Gornius nudges Timo forward.

For several moments, Vantegia stares at the boy. "I guess we’ll do the test." She calls to somewhere in the clinic, "Hey! Do any nurses have a urine sample?"

"I have one from this morning." A nurse pops her head through the flap, appearing next to Vantegia’s shoulder. She asks, "Why do you need it?"

"Bring it to the Checkup Chamber." Vantegia winks at her.

The nurse rolls her eyes and emerges into the hallway, making her way down.

"Let’s go," Vantegia says, gesturing at Timo.

They follow the nurse through the murky corridor and stop at a red curtain. The nurse drags it aside, lights a flame in a wall sconce, says, "Enjoy," leaves behind a small jar on the counter, and exits the room for something more important.

Vantegia enters the room, her apron bouncing off her knees and her robe flashing behind her. Timo steps inside cautiously. The main attraction is a wooden cot covered with a mat. Stools, chairs and simple tables surround it. There’s a single small window, but it’s black as night outside. On the left side, there’s a long counter with drawers and cabinets overhead.

She takes the glass jar and pops off the banded lid, turning towards Timo.

"Drink this."

Timo stares at the Magess. She does not seem like an Angel anymore, as the shadows from the sconce enrich her mischievous smirk.

Noticing his mouth agape, Vantegia clarifies, "Just a sip."

She jiggles the jar, yellowness glowing along the sides of the glass, and offers it to Timo. The faint stench of piss tickles his nose unpleasantly.

Timo wraps his fingers around the jar. He brings it close to his chest, raises it lethargically towards his chin, then above his forehead, checking for sediment at the bottom, then lowers it to mouth level. He thinks of Kazerus, who’s attached to his cup like it’s made of gold, and his chugging motion, the way he bends his elbow, his throat swelling in one huge gulp, slamming the cup down, going, "Ah." A salty flavor lingers on his tongue.

The jar is on the table, empty.

His face balloons. The look is so priceless that Vantegia bursts into laughter, wiping tears from her eyes. "I can’t believe you drank the whole thing..."

She trips over her arm holding her stomach, the dregs of her hysteria ringing throughout the room, crawling her way to a nearby jug on the counter. As she holds the hollowed half-gourd, she’s barely able to scoop water from the jug. When she manages a serving, she presents it to Timo, who sloshes it, hurrying to drink.

It takes a long time for the both of them to calm down and stand upright. Timo's chin dribbles with water and a damp spot takes up the front of his shirt.

"This is one of the manaless ways to diagnose illness." Full of curiosity, Vantegia leans forward. "What did it taste like?"

With a betrayed expression, Timo smacks his lips. "It was slightly bitter, but mostly salty. And a bit fishy."

"It’s the nurse’s pee. It should be healthy. You won’t die."

He whimpers quietly, more confused than anything.

"You want to be my apprentice? Think about it. Come back next week and I'll make a decision."