The man is laying unconscious on one of Datari’s cot, wearing nothing but army pants. He’s rather thin and small, with a patchy beard and a crew cut.
And the poor dude clearly had a bad time.
Datari removed his T-shirt, if the bloody rags next to him can still be called that, exposing multiple injuries on his torso. Most of those are rather old, already properly scabbed, but others are still disgustingly wet, pus and body fluids mixing in a gruesome way. She’s currently cleaning that mess, but there is more : his tanned skin is covered in small blemishes, like tiny bruises. Those are visible everywhere, but it really stands out around his eyes : purplish eyelids surrounded by blackened skin.
So… This… Used to be my best friend? I don’t find myself feeling much for him, besides the normal empathic pain at seeing someone so clearly hurt. No sudden rush of old memories, no spark to light the pit of forgotten time.
Maybe it isn't him?
At least he’s still breathing, even if it’s quite weak.
[???, (level ??) : a human man who’s seen better days. He’s about 30 years old. Just like you, he’s part of the S.T.U.D.Y..
If he's part of the study, it should really be my friend. Well, we'll see in due time.
Hey Marc, he doesn’t have any mana in his body.
Uh.
“Datari, how can I help?”
The woman shrugs.
“What do you know about healing humans?”
Well, nothing, I worked in IT damn it, not in a hospital.
“Not much… If he was close to the monster, his ears are dead. Other… Rest and food? Milk, Fruits, easy stuff to eat.”
She nods, guess my broken siacnar was good enough.
“I'll work some basic healing magic to help his recovery but we need to refill his mana first.”
“Well, I can do that.”
Bold of you to say that.
Come on, we’re helping this guy aren’t we?
Yeah. Watch and learn.
“You do that while I finish taking care of his wounds.”
Hey Bob, send some mana to our brain so I can actually do something too.
It’s not really our brain, we need a name for the mana organ thing…
“How do gilfeiths call the… node in your head that handle mana?”
She doesn’t even look up from her work to answer.
“The interface.”
Excuse me, What? After the case with their mysteriously imperial-system-like units, from way back when I first met Pheyis, this is the second time something is unexpectedly common with Earth, and it’s an actual English word, completely out of place in their tongue.
“Interface? That word means the same in English.”
“Curious.”
She doesn’t care at all, does she? Ugh.
Stop moving already.
…
Right, let’s push the mysterious reason why these people use an English word to refer to the interface with mana, and perhaps the system, to after my best friend that I don’t remember about is back on his feet.
Always a pleasure to be in this kind of perfectly normal circumstances.
- - -
Once Datari finished cleaning the wounds of the stranger, she helped me and Bob push mana into him for about ten minutes. She was using the tip of her tail to move a trickle of mana into various parts of his body in a surprisingly gentle way, a caress that seemed rather... intimate.
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“That should be enough.”
Both me and Bob stop pushing the countless particles of mana floating in the air into the unconscious man, but I don't move.
I really want to watch what happens next with the best mana sense I can get.
As Datari focuses, the mana in her tail seems to go through a qualitative change : it starts glowing to my interface, although there is nothing noticeable to my real sight. The usual wild moves of the tiny grains grind to a halt, and then, they are replaced by a slow, abstract pattern. For some reason, it makes me think of healing, the image of injuries closing and skin returning to a pristine state over time.
And ever so slowly, the same pattern starts appearing close to her tail but outside of it, and as she gets closer to it, in the body of the man, organizing the random fluxes of mana inside of him.
For more than twenty minutes, in religious silence, I watch as Datari weaves actual magic.
And the man is doing visibly better by the end, most of the smaller blemishes are simply gone, and the rest are much harder to notice. I have no doubt that under the thin brown paste applied on them, his wounds have also healed a little. At some point, his breathing deepened.
I’m no longer sitting next to a man at death’s door, instead, it’s just an injured person sleeping.
“I’ll ask you to stay the night Marc, you should be here when he wakes up.”
Yeah, waking up in a strange hut, next to an unknown alien being, after somehow killing a monster in the wilds, there are plenty of ways that might go wrong.
She produces a cot from a storage alcove and unrolls it for me.
“There, I’ll go spend the night at Velwal’s house, even if her mate don’t like it.”
“Thanks Datari.”
What kind of guy wouldn’t like to sleep with both the mother the daughter? They are super similar! Well in looks at least.
Bob, you’re pulling memories from porn scenarios, those don’t actually happen in real life.
Oh.
Yep, reality is often disappointing.
As I settle down to sleep, the cot more comfortable than my own little nest back home, I wonder what kind of person this guy is.
Can't be bad if it was your friend once right?
Yeah.
The gentle herbal scent of Datari’s house is quickly lulling me to sleep, and I'm pretty tired, the day was long.
The healing pattern is already fading.
- - -
A pained groan wakes me up, it’s still dark outside, but a reflexive check of my status tells me it’s a bit past 5 am.
The man is trying to move. I’m next to him in a second.
“Hey, hey, easy. What’s the matter?”
The darkness of the hut is suddenly torn, pushed away by a tiny ball of light that appears to float above him, and I jump back in surprise
“Whoa!”
I have just the time to see a flash of relief and recognition in the stranger’s eyes before the light winks out.
His voice is extremely raspy when he speaks.
“Sorry... Another human… Welcome, but unexpected.” He coughs, “Do you have something to drink?”
Wonderful, this guy really is from back home. But either he doesn’t know me or he doesn’t remember me.
If it’s our guy, he doesn't seem to have realized that he shouldn’t be here alone.
“Err, yes, give me a second.”
… I actually don’t know where Datari keeps her food. Unlike my own house, there are a lot of things cramped in a tiny place here.
“Can you make some more light?”
He silently obliges, with a weaker version of the first ball of light that floats further up above, and I quickly find a jug of goat milk and small clay cup.
Soon enough I’m back next to him and he lets the light wink out again.
“Don’t drink too much at once, the taste is… Strong. Do you feel like you can sit up?”
He tries but barely moves before he's groaning in pain again.
“Help me...”
I gently ease him up, I can feel him tense against the pain from the movement. He's pretty far from being really healed. His breath is a bit short but seems that we’ll manage as long as I hold him up.
A few seconds later he has somehow downed the whole cup. And he’s not even throwing up, wow.
“So, who are you?”
His voice is much better already.
“Name’s Alix, I got light superpowers as you got to see already. They are kinda terrible in the dark but during the day it’s pretty awesome!”
I can't see his face, but he's clearly grinning.
On the other hand, the darkness goes a long way to hide just how much of a blank stare I’m giving him right now.
Why exactly do we not also have superpowers?
“Could I get another drink?”
“Yeah sure. You can stay upright?”
“Think so.”
Dude is crazy, he actually wants seconds on the goat milk.
“So, who are you?”
“I’m Mark, I entered the Study… 25 days ago. I don’t have superpowers but I’ve been training in this village. The gilfeiths are a bit… Special. But there are enough good folks to make it bearable.”
“Twenty-five days in… Uh, same, what a coincidence. Well, I’ll trust you to show me around then, healing me won’t be a problem?”
This guy really doesn’t remember me. I hand him a second cup of goat milk.
“The chief is a nice, I’m sure we’ll be able to work things out. More importantly, I remember that joining someone inside the Study isn’t possible, and I also happen to have a modifier called unknown context. Thoughts?”
The silence grows heavy in a few seconds as realization strikes.
“Argh! What the fuck? You're right, I wouldn’t walk in alone if I had the choice! Shit.” Then he adds “I was pretty much in a rush fighting for my life all the time, no chance to stop and think…"
Another pause,
"Do you reckon there’s more people missing or is it just the two of us?”
Uh.
Now there’s an interesting thought.