Legend of Ransera

There was a knock at his door.

A small woman stood in the doorway with a quiet, kind smile. Her hair was swept back and bound up under a kerchief to keep it out of her way and whatever she wore under her scrub robes was invisible to the eye. She was pale, with large eyes, and many thought her younger than her nineteen (and a half) years for it, but there was a sort of wisdom to her that some read as weird and others read as old. Due to the accident of a twin birth, both she and her winged brother were small for their races, but whether she looked the part of an Avialae or not, she was not intimidated by men who towered over her.

"Hello," she said. "I'm Kala. I'm here to change your bandages."

She took his chart down from outside his door, but didn't look at it yet, preferring to speak to patients as people before she started delving into the notes various people took about them and their progress. There was seepage apparent even from here, but she schooled herself to examine him without the aid of her semblance rune first so she could hone her skills without the gifts that could easily become crutches.

Doctor Wardell had set her up on a list of volunteers to help when the Tranquil Gardens was short-staffed, and so here she was, using what skills she owned to lighten the workload for the professionals. She wasn't sure if he liked her, but that was hardly the point of taking a mentor. He seemed to think her skills sufficient to be able to help with minimal supervision.

"May I come in?"

It might have seemed a silly question given there was no door in the frame, but she seemed to understand that having even a modicum of control over one's space might be reassuring and calming, both of which were helpful for healing.

Her smile broadened at the invitation and she came inside, setting his chart aside for the time being. Some patients were reluctant to speak, and so she had to rely more on the chart, but she preferred the interaction. She washed her hands in the sink, dried them, and then began the delicate task of removing the bandages around his torso. Avialae were particular about who touched their wings; she groomed her twins, but they were core-bonded. She hoped that the necessary touching to tend to his less vulnerable wounds might ease his nerves at having a stranger meddle with his wings.

"Kala," she reminded him. "Kala Leukos." The name wouldn't mean anything to him. House Leukos wasn't well known even in Kalzasi and that was how they preferred it. "I'm in training under Doctor Wardell. When the staff of the Tranquil Gardens is overwhelmed, I'm one of the volunteers who have been vetted and found capable enough to do basic rounds to keep the patients well tended without overworking the regular staff. It seems like what you need most is time to rest and heal with the occasional tending, so it's something I can help with. But this is your room for the time being. You ought to feel comfortable in it so you can recover. I would expect similar respect if you were knocking at the door to my room."

She began to clean around the wounds on his torso, leaving the scabbed bits alone to get a bit of air.

"These look like they are healing nicely. How is your pain?"

She could see that the bandaging on his wings was going to be the larger issue, but the seepage didn't appear to be so bad that she needed to call in a more experienced healer, though he might require more iron and other nutrients in his diet so his body would be better equipped to brew new blood.

"Ahh," she acknowledged. "I have a twin brother and we spent most of our youth sharing a room. We were so used to it that it felt odd when we were given separate rooms."

But his mind seemed to drift so she didn't pester him with unwanted conversation, instead humming to herself as she worked. But when he broke off from his reverie, she considered what he said.

"No pain at all?" She looked at the fresh bandage she had finished off on his torso. "Then they must be giving you excellent analgesics." She considered the bloodied bandages on his wing. "You could probably walk out of here today, but they will want to observe the healing of your wings. Avialae are strong, but improper healing can impede flight so better safe than sorry."

She paused again, polite and diffident.

"My twin lets me groom his wings, so I do know what I'm doing. May I change the bandages on your wings? I realize that it is an intimate thing. If you would rather one of your regular attendants sees to it, I can make sure they come soon." Whatever he decided, she would have notes to take before she quit his presence, but that could wait until his care was seen to. The notes were important, but not so important as he was.

She wondered if she wasn't adept enough with necromantic healing to create sinew threads, the better to knit his wounds closed. They sped healing and left no scarring when applied correctly, but of course, she was not qualified to take over his care so she would just learn by following the rules and helping as she was able. He would certainly get the best of care here.

She nodded slowly at what he shared.

"I was taught from a young age that pain is our friend," she said, putting the old bandages in the rubbish where they would be collected and dealt with. "It can clarify the mind, and it warns us about problems that will need to be dealt with. But I am glad you aren't suffering." As she brought more clean bandaging and such for the wing, she nodded solemnly. "Then I will thank you for finding me worthy even for a short while. I will try to be brief."

Kala was, if possible, even more careful with the bandaging on his wings. But she was efficient and managed to be quick as she promised, humming another old Avialae lullaby as she worked. She didn't know if it was something shared among Synnekar and Kathar cultures, or whether their collared brethren were allowed a culture of their own. Too polite to ask just to assuage her curiosity, she remained professional even though she was a mere volunteer.

Baudric—as the sign outside the door had named him—was a pleasant enough patient. She was glad he didn't give her that look she got from Avialae; they revered their women, but the twin birth was what the healers said made her and her brother small, and many Avialae saw her as too small and delicate to be a mother to Avialae and dismissed her. It was a strange version of the look her twin got for being a bit of a runt for the statuesque warrior race. The thought of childbirth did give her some pause; her mother was not so diminutive as she was, and the twin birth had caused her ongoing health problems.

But she didn't think too much on it just then. Once the wounds were cleaned, she did a little preening of the feathers that would be covered so that they would lie properly and not be unduly ruffled by the bandaging. She wanted him as comfortable as possible. Then the wound was redressed and rebandaged and she made the old, bloodied bandages disappear into the rubbish before washing her hands once more. Rather than take his vitals by hand, she took a sense of him through her rune and what she found made her eyes widen. There was an infernal darkness to the wounds—hints only, as much of it had been purged by his healers, but that would explain why it was still seeping and only slowly healing.

It was enough to know that he didn't have any systemic infections to worry about and this way she wouldn't have to lay her hands on him anymore, which might make him uncomfortable.

"Everything looks fine now," she reported. "The seepage is normal all things considered, not heavy enough to be worrisome. Is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable?"

Kala was not offended when Baudric drifted off. If anything, it was gratifying to know that she was giving inobtrusive care and that, despite her hands on his wings, he was able to relax enough to nap. Her brothers liked to think they were invincible, but even Avialae needed more sleep when they were recovering from injuries. Their body's resources were used for the quiet, but immense task of healing.

She looked thoughtful at his request, but then made a decision.

"What is your favorite flavor?"

Once that was settled, she bid him farewell—at least until she could manage his request. She reached across her bond and made a request, and then went about the rest of her rounds. After an hour, she cleaned up and went to the nearest airborne egress to meet her brother, who gave her a quizzical look and then handed her two ice cream cones without question.

"See you when you get home," he said, and then he was aloft again, his sparrowhawk wings scooping up the air in a way that was familiar to her but rare among their kind.

When she found Baudric's room again, she knocked carefully so as not to overturn the ice cream. Her hair was down, most of it chopped into a long bob, but with a couple of longer braids hanging lower. The scrub robes had been removed and she wore clothes that suited her better. While she had occasionally lunched in the canteen, she didn't know if they had ice cream normally or in the season of Frost or if it was any good, so she had requested a special delivery from one of the fine creameries and trusted that the wintry air would keep it from melting. So far, the plan had gone off without a hitch.

"It seemed like a good idea, so I got one as well," she said. "May I come in?"