The Way of Flesh: a prelude [Urs]

[Kala Leukos]

Tranquil Gardens
75 Searing 121

The last time she had been at Kalzasi's famed hospital, she had merely come to collect supplies for the Warren March she and her twin were to embark upon to earn their adult standing in the eyes of the Avialae. Of course, as a girl, she had become a woman merely by living to see her eighteenth birthday, but if Kaus was not a man without a trial, then she would be damned if she wouldn't earn her womanhood by his side. A little bit of training and some well-planned supplies had kept them and other young Avialae boys safe from harm down in the lower depths.

Iselya had been the name of the kind necromantic healer who had assisted her at the time, but she was irked to find that the woman no longer worked at the Tranquil Gardens. Not entirely certain what to do, she wandered a bit until she found a bulletin board and began to read the postings there. Surely someone was offering tutoring services or there might be a class on basic first aid where she could start. On the one hand, healing skills would always be helpful, especially given her brother's penchant for diving headlong into danger to protect other people. And on the other hand, it would support her studies of necromancy, specifically the Way of Flesh.

She didn't know that she would become a full practitioner of the art like Lyra at Ale'Ephirium, but she wanted to understand the beginnings of her people, and Garel of Atoria had been a master necromancer, twisting refugees from the Hellmaw into the winged guardians of Kalzasi. Know thyself was the old adage. Well, she was trying.

But there was much to do before she could start practicing at all. For now, she studied theory in the Academy archives, and she would learn the auxiliary skills to support her understanding of the Way of Flesh by learning what she could about how bodies worked and how they could be repaired from injury and illness. If only she could find a teacher...

Kala was short, her platinum blonde hair cut in different lengths, a style more appropriate back home in Starfall than here in Kalzasi. She wore layered robes, the shoulders detailed in feather patterns, a quiet nod to her heritage.

[Urs Wardell]

Life is strange, Urs thought as he walked through the hospital corridors.

In the Midden, surgeries were done on dinner tables. If a family was particularly wealthy or had recently suffered a death, an extra room might serve for all things medical. Doctors didn't exist below the surface. People there relied on what little they could learn, or on witches, like Mother.

Urs had spent a childhood playing nurse. He saw broken legs and wounds, and he watched as blood puddled and stained. Mother had her concoctions. Potions and charms she promised warded against all manner of disease. Enchantments she'd collected from Names. Things she'd made up. They helped, but they weren't perfect. Blood rot, she'd said, was a secret killer. It was silent until it wasn't, and by then it was too late.

Veins that burst and bruised the skin. Purple flowers bloomed from dying flesh.

That wasn't a concern here; no, the patients at the Tranquill Gardens weren't burdened by those sort of fears. All sorts of cures and remedies awaited the ill or cursed, and if there weren't, the hospital employed scientists and mages alike to find one.

The miracle of wealth. Well, no. That was narrow. Wealth and power alike could be found in the Midden if you knew where to look. That was the strange thing, he thought. There were differences aplenty between the Undercity and the Upside; but what had made this difference so stark?

And, as he thought and considered, he became lost - well, metaphorically. He knew well where he was. Just, that for a time, he drowned in his immediate curiosities and wondering and didn't see the short woman with the short blonde hair, swaddled in robes.

"Oh - excuse me. Are you a patient? Should you be walking alone?" He asked, frowning; his expression saying that he blamed her for being in his way more than he faulted himself for not paying attention.

[Kala Leukos]

The young Avialae was often overlooked, so she wasn't entirely surprised when a medic, lost in thought, nearly stumbled over her. But she was startled and leaped back with some agility, surprising for the amount of cloth draped from her slender shoulders. Even in Searing, Kalzasi wasn't terribly hot. And she was small, thin, and didn't seem to hold onto heat very well. Or perhaps that was just the narrative she had grown up with, having brothers whose wings made them impervious to all but the most biting of cold.

Her smile was mild.

"Thank you for your concern, but I am not a patient. I was looking for an old acquaintance with hopes of improving my skills, but she seems to have departed."

She nodded back toward the bulletin board, looking still for classes or anything that might help her learn to be a bit of a healer since her future studies in necromancy would align with other healing arts and sciences well.

Glancing back at the man, a faint eyebrow perched higher in askance.

"I don't suppose you know of anyone who might mentor me? I'm seeking to rise above the level of a dilettante." There were too many responsibilities on her shoulders to become a full-fledged healer, just as they prevented her from pursuing an artistic career, but she could learn and she would attack any educational opportunity with equal fervor. She had an unquenchable intellectual curiosity. But it seemed only right to study healing arts alongside necromancy. There would be those who would view the practice with distaste, but she knew many of the best healers were willing to learn its ways and means in order to protect the health of their patients and she thought that was a responsibility she was willing to take on.

[Urs Wardell]

She reminded Urs of a bird, a nestling. Her wide eyes and delicate frame, the sharpness of her face, her nose. She wore her silks like wings, he thought, layered and wrapped around her. Various feathers were weaved into her hair. She smiled at him with thin, pale lips.

“Improving your skills in…surgery?” He asked as he busied himself with the various notices in the bulletin board. Solicitations for volunteers in studies and trials, each promising generous stipends for participation. Or for the more desperate, simply a chance of being healed. He always thought it was strange, in a world where magic and miracles existed, to throw your last hand in with mortal science.

A nice ideal, he supposed. Trusting in your peers and fellows instead of selling your life and soul to some unknowable greater power.

Still strange.

“Or in herbalism? Or are you more interested in general medicine?” Urs asked, flipping through the various advertisements. A few were looking for nurses or educated help, but while he wasn’t sure what a ‘dilettante’ was, he wasn’t sure it meant qualified. “And your name? Are you already associated with the Tranquil Gardens, in one way or another?”

[Kala Leukos]

"Medicine in general," she said, "but with an eye toward learning surgery. I have begun to study necromancy, but I daren't learn the Way of Flesh without understanding it first. I want to help." That last was the most important, she thought. All that she learned was aimed at helping—her family, her people, all people, really.

"I learned some first aid and medicine from a Siltori healer named Iselya d’Svaris here at the Tranquil Gardens two seasons ago to prepare for my Warren March," which was odd as only male Avialae were required to pass this test to achieve adulthood in the eyes of their people, "and had meant to return for more training, but my work had gotten in the way. Now I am ready to continue. I have a lot to learn, so I might as well start at the bottom and work my way up. But perhaps I will have to employ an expert to tutor me before anyone will allow me to help with actual patients here."

She considered this as she gauged the young man's response. He seemed a few years her senior, old enough to have some mastery of the healing arts if he had focused on them. Kala's education was far-ranging, but not so focused. She wanted to continue it, however, in various directions as her responsibilities to House allowed.

Kala awaited his response, not knowing whether he would take her seriously or not. There were many of her class who dabbled and she knew that could rub experts the wrong way. She didn't want to be one of those people, but the only way she could learn was by applying herself wherever she could.

[Urs Wardell]

Urs’ eyes flashed silver and in them, Kala could see herself - and the world - as he did.

There she was, wreathed in a light that breathed as she did, alive as she was, sinewy strands of something darting to and fro. It gleamed, irregularly; the glow of her wasn’t fairly distributed. She would recognize what she was seeing as an aura, hers. However, as much as she knew what she saw, it was still through Urs’ perspective. The lens was his eye and his magic. She might try, but what reflected in the dark of Urs’ eyes was his to divine.

“I might teach you,” he said, his spell unraveling her. Her aura appeared delicate, all air and light, but that was only at its most shallow. There, glimmering just under the surface, was power. Magic; not surprising. She’d admitted to the study of Necromancy. It was rare, he’d found, to find a magician who’d committed to one practice. And there, deeper still was the unfaltering confidence born to those protected by gold and gilded halls.

Not undeserved. Money provided all sorts of securities. After all, she may not win an apprenticeship, but she could buy one.

“My knowledge is more theoretical, regarding Necromancy, but I am a talented surgeon. The Tranquil Gardens pay me enough that I don’t need more, but perhaps you might organize a donation to the hospital in my name?” He said, his magic scouring her hands - calluses? Scars? Anything of rot or death or blood? Perhaps not. She’d earn those in time if she agreed - and, if she did, earning an apprentice and a, hopefully, sizable donation would only increase his reputation among the staff.

“You still haven’t told me your name,” he said, motioning to her to follow him as he moved to continue down the hall.

[Kala Leukos]

She felt a tingle, which told her as much as his flashing eyes that he was doing magic. She could feel that he was stronger than her in Semblance, and so she didn't bother to obscure her aura. Perhaps her own would grow stronger, more refined from the practice of medicine, surgery, and the Way of Flesh. It could be a powerful diagnostic tool.

"The necromancy I'm learning," she assured him. "I need the medical and surgical training to support forays into necromantic healing." So far, she was only working in the Way of Souls, but she saw the value of being a powerful healer. The Avialae were warriors, but war couldn't solve every problem. Despite having good healers in Starfall, she had some faint scars. They were inescapable when practicing blades and elementalism, she had found. But he would have to look hard to see them.

"A donation might be within the realm of possibility," she agreed. But she had learned enough about business in her year acting on her mother's behalf not to make promises without knowing what she was getting; she didn't know this man's credentials, nor what training he offered. But House Leukos would make another donation on her behalf if it meant profitable training. It had donated previously when Akshara had brought her twins to ensure their health; twin births were difficult for Avialae, and both she and Kaus were small for their species.

"My name is Kala Leukos," she said. "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Doctor."

He hadn't offered his name either. Her name wouldn't mean anything to him, though. It was a house that tried to make good impressions, but would rather leave no impression at all. Starfall was far from Kalzasi as any who bowed to its sovereignty, and they appreciated their autonomy.

[Urs Wardell]

D A T E

Urs eventually led them to a small room, lined with shelves filled with books of all sorts. Introductions to medicine, both modern and folkloric. Texts on anatomies of all sorts: humanoid, animal, other. Physiologies of the various races that populated Ransera, and those more familiar to Kalzasi. Herbalist diaries detailing the various medicinal properties of local flora. A few books stood out, black and foreboding, promising all sorts of things relating to the Necromantic arts.

“A donation would be preferred,” he says, pulling out a few beginner texts on medicine. “Here, read this, aloud. I’ll need proof that you are literate and have some understanding of beginner topics.” Urs grabs a text on foundational medicines and common surgeries conducted in the Northern parts of Ransera. It would provide a simple introduction to various maladies found often, locally, and remedies. “And you may call me Doctor Wardell.”

The name wouldn’t mean anything to her, unless she spent more time at the Tranquil Gardens than she insinuated. “I’ll be busy with my own training the rest of this season but I should have more than ample time in the future. You would be expected here, and if you are skilled enough to be more than a student, I could see you assisting in surgeries.”

It’d be nice to have an apprentice. Someone to support his work, here, while he spent some time at the Towers. Mastering his skills as a surgeon before he dabbled in the arcane, at the tower. Mother left him a magical inheritance after all. Better he not waste it.

[Kala Leukos]

"Doctor Wardell," she corrected herself.

Looking around, she was certain she could spend weeks with these books, soaking up all the theoretical knowledge to augment what she might learn practically from the man, who did seem to have a bit of the physician's hauteur, but she didn't mind so long as the teaching was excellent. Perhaps he was harsh to weed out dilettantes, or he would just be an exacting man. In any case, she shrugged off the implied slight, took the book, and read aloud. Her diction was perfect, and she didn't stumble over any technical terms. Her education was broad and while it hadn't focused on things scientific and medical, it had touched upon them.

When he bade her stop, she did, marking her place in the book in case he changed his mind.

"As I said, I have begun to study necromancy, though I haven't truly begun anything to do with the healing arts. I also have some understanding of anatomy from my study of dance and martial arts, and I am handy with blades. I don't know how much use you find in elementalism when it comes to healing, but I have used Fire to cauterize wounds in an emergency, and I do have some fine control that might help with delicate situations."

It might have been a bit of oversharing, but she figured that the more he knew, the better he could teach her, and even the possibility of assisting in surgeries was exciting to her. Theoretical knowledge was excellent and she enjoyed books, but she also knew that the true learning was in the doing and that assisting him would drive home all those lessons, making them as real as blood and flesh and life and death, something her imagination could do to some extent, though not with the same level of accuracy. Experience would be her best instructor.

[Urs Wardell]

“Perhaps, it would depend on the patient and the injury and the need,” Urs says, pulling a book of his own. Potions, Poultices, & Powders: An Introduction to Herbalism and Folkloric Remedies. He opened it to the first page. “And please report to the front office, whenever is easiest for you. I imagine they’ll have some forms for you, and me. We will need to officialize whatever this apprenticeship ends up being so that you are allowed entry into the surgery rooms.”

Urs begins to read. Potions were, apparently, a herbalist’s term for medicine, and often assumed to have magical powers. That fit in line with what he’d experienced in the Warrens. They could also, apparently, be called philtres. Poultices were crafted from a soft material, usually a sort of sponge, but that was something they applied here at the Tranquil Gardens. He’d seen them applied against rashes of all sorts. Powders were easily described. The difference between a potion and a powder, in application was, powders being mixed into a water to be imbibed, while a potion was brewed from various ingredients. An infusion, as it were.

Infusions were just letting things laze in water, heated or not. Like tea. Something he also knew back from working with Mother. They had some recipes here for making lavender milk. Nothing terribly insightful. He copied some notes on creating poultices. The various types of materials you might use.

He went through the various ways of applying poultices. Of making it stick with tape or whatever you were applying. That you needed to change it, or risk worse infection.

“And if that’s it, I’ll see you sometime in the future!”