Mornings the past few days had been a test in what new agonies my body decided to deafen me with. Ken, despite being an absolute gem of a mage, couldn't combat the necrosis all at once.
That would've led to a slow death.
So he'd been alternating between organs and systems, prioritizing the shit necessary to keep me alive and not bothering with the rest until it risked crossing fatal territory. It was slow, but I was healing.
Hopefully Ken didn't take my complaints too personally.
A groan escaped my lips as I curled into a ball, clutching at where I felt my kidneys eating themselves slowly despite the sustained healing spell. Bunch of other stuff too, but that was the one my brain decided to focus on this morning. It felt like acid was sitting all casual in my everything.
I groaned louder.
I heard a squeak and opened my eyes to find the blurry ball that was Daz sniffing at me, anxiously going back and forth with his whiskers over my cheek and giving little squeaks.
Cute. Very cute.
Ah shit, it hurt. It fucking
hurt
.
I didn't try to reassure the rat, because that would've been a lie, and lying to friends was bad.
Friends?
Was Daz a friend?
Didn't know, he didn't do much besides being adorable, and spying on me for the good 'ol rat-king. Last bit should've been a detriment, but I stopped caring a while ago. Perks of having bigger things looming over the horizon.
Survival was a proactive activity after all!
Damn, the bed I was on was
soft
. Premium luxury soft, sunk in it like a stone in the ocean. Ken sure knew how to treat a lady. Or maybe a dying idiot. Probably the latter, but I wasn't dying so I chose to believe he was a proper heart-stopper.
Never actually saw him with a partner now that I thought about it. Wasn't something anyone seemed to care gossiping about either.
Did he spend any time outside his clinic? Whenever I needed healing, he was just...here. Waiting. Well, not for me, but for patients in general. Now that I thought about it, did he even leave for the Reudenmire festival?
Surely he did, it'd just be sad otherwise.
I decided I would make myself useful today by nagging at Ken to have a healthy work-life balance. Considering I could do a whole lot of jack shit else.
Mend
didn't do shit for necrotic bits! Didn't even register as something that could heal, I was using a whole other Word to deal with it, and it wasn't effective enough to waste the mana. Didn't know what the Word was, progress to getting an idea was
slow
for this one.
So I was going to go fix my healer's social life.
As soon as the pain settled with familiarity.
Took longer than I'd care to admit, but I got moving as soon as my metaphorical ears started to go deaf to all the screaming nerves. Like a graceful swan, I rolled.
Right off the bed with a nice thump.
I responded to Daz's alarmed squeak with a long groan.
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He didn't seem reassured.
Whatever.
I got to my hands and knees and indulged my body's desire for heaving. Best to purge my stomach now if it was going to happen at all. Despite the immense nausea, bile didn't even tickle my esophagus! Truly, miracles did exist.
Bitch ass miracles.
Luckily there wasn't any vertigo (Ken dealt with the smaller bits of necrosis easily enough, one of which was my inner ears!) so I was able to stagger up to my feet with only a bit of difficulty. Tried to take in my surroundings, but focusing was hard when your brain was mush.
The walls were made of wood and the bed was made out of bed, that was about all I could decipher.
On wobbly legs, I shuffled my way to what memory demanded was a door, Daz burdening himself with making sure I didn't trip on anything. Of which there was none, but it was the thought that counted.
I reached the door and leaned on it for a moment, shutting my eyes to try and center myself. Had to play tough when out of my room, so that I wouldn't worry people more than I already had.
I sucked in a breath and pulled the door open with monumental effort. Had to take a moment to cough out the mucus, but the world was my oyster now! Well, the hallway. A rather empty hallway.
This part of the clinic wasn't used often; which was probably a good thing? Didn't know Ken's policy on critical patients who couldn't pay, I'd like to think he'd at least deal with the whole dying part before sending them off without treating the rest.
No one complained about it, but few peasants bothered to come here for healing anyway.
Any hunter that couldn't afford his cheap as fuck rates needed to consider switching careers, like Everett. Well, he was an okay hunter, the cunt just fancied himself a comedian.
I chuckled and made my way down the hall, using the wall as a support so that I could go just a bit faster. Daz disappeared. Always did that when there was a risk of being seen. I didn't know if that was him being a smart cookie or Alvir taking the reigns.
The latter made me uncomfortable, so I chose to believe the former.
I tried to hum, but it came out kinda grating, so all there was to accompany me was the unusually large halls for the unusually large clinic.
Asked Ken about that once. He shrugged and didn't acknowledge the question.
Rude bastard.
Speaking of, there he was!
I found him sitting at his usual spot when waiting for patients or taking a break after turning a corner. It was literally the center of the clinic, a little open room with a few tables and chairs where patients could socialize instead of going stir crazy.
There were a few, and they varied in how severe their wounds blurred with their bodies. Which was deceiving. It was the nervous system, followed closely by bones, that was the hardest to heal.
Flesh wounds, no matter how severe, often didn't take more than a few hours before Ken would punt them out into the world.
The Healer glanced over at my hall, scrunching his brow before radiating a mix of annoyance and concern. I beamed a smile and shuffled over to sit across from him. "Good morning!" I said, voice sounding like a chimney decided to make itself at home in my lungs. "What are you doing brooding all by your lonesome?"
"You should be resting," Ken scowled (probably).
I shrugged. "We both know that's not happening. If I can walk, then I'll walk. Simple."
"You can't at least occupy yourself with trying to rid the necrosis with that unknown Word you mentioned? Would barely contribute, but then you'd be doing something without risking aggravating your condition."
"Don't see the point," I said, leaning back in my chair. "Dead tissue isn't exactly something I'm going to suffer from often, and whatever this Word is, its effects are basically non-existent. Even Awake and Mend made some noticeable changes before they became full Words. Besides, your whole stabilizing spell thingy is still pumping through my body."
"That doesn't mean it'll stop a new variable from making things
worse
. Like walking."
I chuckled. "You worry too much. I'm not blind to my own condition, damaged a whole lot of nothing on the way here."
Not the whole truth, but he didn't need to know that.
Ken grumbled.
"So, whatcha doing?"
"I was taking a break," the man said. "But I guess I may as well check up on you while you're here."
"You really need to get a life, man."
"But I already have one?"
"I mean outside of the clinic. I don't think I've ever seen you step foot into the city. Hells, I barely see you in the common area of the
guild
."
Ken huffed. "Are you concerned by my dedication? That's quite ironic considering who it's coming from."
"Except I have friends."
"So do I."
"Name one."
He spread his arms and waved them at the others sitting in the social area, of which there were three, all oozing bemusement at the conversation we were having.
"Those are patients," I said. "I meant outside of work."
"I'm perfectly happy as I am and with who I know, child. I have no desire to decipher the masks everyone wears to curry favour."
"Dress up like a peasant then."
"I haven't been a peasant since I left for the universities. Do you expect me to be capable of acting like one?"
I raised a brow. "You were a peasant?"
"That's so much worse," Ken groaned and ran a hand down his face. "Yes, back in the southern Empire. The actual southern portion, not the asinine interpretation you northerners have."
"Huh, the more you know."