Why did the simulations get so difficult so quickly? To point out how little the novices knew about anything and how difficult it is for even the greatest of experts to peer into the human body and find something called a tumor. A cancerous thing that, without removal, would lead to the painful death of the patient.

Often even its removal was useless, as the cancer would spread to different parts of the body. Sure, they could, with considerable effort, remove said cancer, but in the end, it could still lead to the aforementioned death.

It was sad, as they really didn’t know enough about it to heal such an issue, and it wasn’t even the only thing they couldn’t heal. Professor Forsvarn explained in their next lecture that recently they had noticed that some patients who had started to lose their memories and skills had something happen to their brains.

A slow degeneration of the organ that was apparently in command of the whole body.

Not to mention a disease that, for some unknown reason, made people more prone to most, if not all, diseases; a disease that broke the immune system of the patient.

These three unsolvable diseases, as she so well put it, were two of the most miserable ones for not only the patients but also their close ones. One could only witness as their loved one slowly withered away, be it their body or their mind, either way leaving behind a soulless husk and hopelessness.

It wasn’t just unfair; it was disgustingly unfair that that would be how they would leave this world.

It was a profound experience to see it happen so many times in such a short time. Especially the one Forsvarn called cancer, how much it could hurt at its worst, how helpless not only you but those around you feel.

They were just simulations—nothing in comparison to the real thing. It could take months for the cancer to reach that point without anyone knowing or realizing what is going on at first. And you would only know when it was too late, and already you might be in a hospital bed, praying to the Angels for the last time as others watched you close your eyes for the final time.

As far as Forsvarn knew, there wasn’t a single such patient in the Academic Hospital but it was also impossible to know for sure.

The professor was pleased with their performance, as it was apparent that they all now understood how useless they were and would be able to heal at least the easiest of injuries. So her time wasn’t wasted.

"In the next few weeks, there are a few possible things that each of you might do: either you keep practicing here with the simulations, study the books oor whatever, or happen to be one of the four teams that did considerably better than the others.”

“Those four groups, without question, will be following me and the other medical professionals here. To watch as we diagnose the patients and heal them; use this time to learn as much as you can from us."

"In the last week, those who are lucky will be able to practice their skills on real patients under the supervision of me and my colleagues. Do well, and you might someday have a spot for yourself here among the best of the best."

She then named the groups and the students in those groups that were the “lucky”. Kanrel and his group had their names mentioned, and he really wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not.

Again, they were allowed to have the rest of the day for themselves, to perhaps get some time to think about what each of them wanted to do, though the "lucky" four groups didn’t seem to have much choice in the matter.

Instead of going to their own rooms, Kanrel found himself again in the company of those whom he had spent the past month with. Another group in disarray, who now shared a few benches in the park, loitered, perhaps trying to heal their minds from the things they’d gone through.

"If you think about it, we only have another month left." Yviev pointed out that there wasn’t even a hint of her usual tone in her voice.

An apparent silence answered what she had said; only the sounds of the park around them filled the air. Birds singing and chirping in their joyous manner; people walking around conversing about who knows what.

The midday sun was shining at them from above, though they were beneath the shadows of large oak trees that were older than the academy itself.

What was the point of indulging Yviev’s words? Even if this was the last month under such grueling conditions, it had already left a lasting impression on all of them; they’d be unable to forget the things they’d gone through.

It was always so with the most traumatic experiences; you always think that after the event itself is over that it will all be fine, but it was never so; the nightmares would still persist, and the image of a bed was now perverted into a torture device.

And when one thought of healing an injury or a wound, all they’d be able to think about was the pain the patient was going through—what they had gone through.

"Yes, and we won’t need to lay on that torture device anymore. Now we get to see others in pain, not just each other." Uanna said her voice was solemn and vulnerable. "You know, I can’t even sleep on the bed anymore."

Another silence ensued, and Kanrel couldn't help but look at Uanna with pity; he remembered her from long before, not just how he knew her now but before the Ritual. She had been so bright with how she treated others; even as a prideful noble, she had treated others with respect. Even him.

Why was she here? Kanrel couldn't help but wonder. Why would a noble want to become a priest, even if she was as religious as she was?

"We have just a few months until graduation and the vows; what are your plans after this?" Kanrel asked, looking to move away from the uncomfortable topic of discussion. Doing so didn’t much help, as the feeling of discomfort remained.

Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.

"To the Inquisition, there I belong." Yirn answered first, "Not here; I really don’t belong here." He muttered.

Wen seemed to ponder for a moment before answering, "A temple or a cathedral, perhaps even a monastery. I want to teach the people the words of the Angels."

"I will do anything the Priesthood wishes of me; my duty is to follow," Uanna said, and for a moment, the despair was gone from her face, only to return soon after.

"I’ll remain here, at the hospital." Yviev said, to everyone's shock, "I don’t want to remain a novice who knows nothing."

They all peered at Yviev, trying to figure out if she was telling the truth or not and if, for a moment, she was her usual self. But she looked serious, and there was determination on her face; she would not be broken. She refused to break.

"How about you?" Uanna asked; in her voice, there was shyness, perhaps a memory of how she had been before. She was fiddling with the side of her robes.

"Me?" Kanrel asked after a while when they all had moved their gazes on him, "I want to collect information and to learn; I want to see the world and figure out its secrets. But where I’ll go, I don’t know. But I have a feeling I’ll know soon enough."

Yirn scoffed. "Have you then gotten word from your mother?"

"Not yet, but I suppose there won’t be long until her reply arrives."

Yirn, for the first time in a while, smiled like he had smiled before, saying, "Good to hear." He then patted Kanrel on the shoulder as if it were natural for him to do in that moment. And perhaps it was; Kanrel wasn’t so sure what was natural, normal, or even usual.

They sat in silence for a while before Yirn chose to get up, "I’ve got some lifting to attend to." He said and stared at Kanrel for a while before adding, "You sure you don’t want to learn a new set of skills? Do you not want to become more alluring?" He had that smile on his face again.

Kanrel let out a long sigh. "Maybe next time..."

Yirn walked away while laughing warmly; even now, it was at times difficult to believe that he had gone through the Ritual. But it was easy to guess why he seemed so normal with his laughter—it was all a lie.

Kanrel wasn’t certain about it, but he believed that there was a reason for him to have learned to laugh and smile like that. His life probably hadn’t been the easiest of experiences, and it was much easier to laugh and smile it off than let oneself drown in sadness.

The life of a nameless was never easy in these lands. Discrimination and bullying were normal, and no one would really bat an eye at that. Not many would come in between when a nameless was bullied, beat, or sometimes even lynched.

The nameless were considered lesser, barely humans, often subhuman. They didn’t look different; they really weren’t different at all. It was all just because of what had happened before and what those who didn’t have a name were likened to.

A few hundred years ago, there had been a revolt against the crown and the Priesthood. It started with restlessness but soon turned into a war—a rebel movement. Those who were against the tyranny of the crown and didn’t much believe in the teachings of the Priesthood. In their eyes, they were heretics, and they did not represent the teachings of the Angels as they should have.

A decade of war, which was mostly fought in guerrilla warfare and attacking the innocent bystanders. Something that started with blood had to also end in blood.

The rebels were all found; they were put into camps, and all the adults were killed; only the children remained. To wash away the sins of their fathers and mothers, they would have no names, and thus they became nameless.

Discrimination that had begun so long ago was still prevalent in society, even when there had been considerable reform in how the Priesthood and the crown treated them.

And most of the nameless today weren’t even related to those that had been hundreds of years ago. They were just normal orphans who had been born to parents who weren’t there for one reason or another.

Were the children truly to blame for something like that? Even back then? Were the sins of the fathers truly so great?

The day went by with them mostly spending time together, having dinner, and discussing the past months and the coming days. They even went shopping for things; they all needed more notebooks and ink because of the amount of writing they had to do. Not to mention the amount of writing that was still to come.

They visited many stores that were available in the southeast corner of the campus. Thanks to the city around them, there were many things that those shops could offer and one of the shops that Kanrel had them visit was that of a carpenters.

There he found a couch that he bought as a gift for Uanna. He didn’t want her to force herself to sleep on the floor when she couldn’t sleep on the bed. He then helped her carry it to her room, which was at the end of the corridor where all of the rooms of the novices were located.

She allowed him to enter, and there he saw on the floor blankets and pillows—a place where she had slept for a while now. They placed her new couch so that she wouldn’t have to sleep while looking at the bed.

Then he couldn’t help but look around the room. It wasn’t quite how he had expected it to be; in his mind, there would be many lavish things that she had enjoyed as a noble, but it was even more frugal than his own room.

There was also a lot more religious scripture, and it looked like she studied it quite often.

"Kanrel…" She said as he was about to leave. Kanrel turned around to look at her and listen to what she had to say. "You know before... I really wanted to... To know you... before the Ritual."

"But you were so, unapproachable. So distant from everyone. Why were you so distant back then?" At first, she looked deeply into his eyes; her eyes were begging for an answer, and then she quickly looked down in shame.

Kanrel looked at her for a moment longer before answering, "I don’t know, but I’ve learned to regret how I was before." He answered and gently raised her head so that they could directly look at each other: "Uanna, you’ll be fine; just don’t give up, and everything will be fine." He said, now for the first time, smiling in a way that felt normal to look at.

He then left her room and returned to his own. He sat on the floor against his own door and buried his face in his hands. Was it wrong of him to lie to her?