9. Book of Life
Aki had sensed something off about Strider's war before seeing it.
She sat huddled down in the cabin of the flagship, all by herself lonesome. She could hear the din of the battle, the shouts and screams and the rumble of the earth, just a little. At least it was medieval warfare,, without the relentless roaring of artillery fire, nor bomber planes overhead, and certainly nothing that will blow hundreds of men to smithereens with a single strike. Just then she heard a screech, a long, terrible wail that could only be so distorted by the Doppler Effect.
The Doppler Effect? Aki paused. But this was medieval warfare, she was just telling herself that! Why would there be anything capable of producing a Doppler Effect distortion? A shadow suddenly fell over her heart, and she shivered involuntarily. Something nasty was near; not nasty like mankind's own savage weapons and firearms, this was something sinister and ancient, something more fantastic. Aki stood up, hesitated for a few moments, and then raced out of the ship cabin.
She emerged onto the deck just in time to see a great black dragon swoop by. It was an ugly creature, pure black with leathery bat wings, and decked with spiked armor of black metal. A person wrapped in black cloak was riding on the back of the dragon. Aki had seen every kind of duel monsters, beautiful ones and not so beautiful ones, and she knew not to judge them based on appearance, but this black dragon felt evil, overflowing with malice, almost like an Earthbound Immortal. The black dragon swooped down not far from the river like a vulture, sending people flying away and screaming. Far away, even more of these things circled in the sky.
Aki took a deep breath and tried to diagnose the sight before her rationally. These dragon riders could not be Strider's allies; if he already had dragons in his ranks he wouldn't be so reserved about Trishula. If those unnatural things are Strider's enemies, then she probably can—indeed she very much should—help. And that was all the rationalizing she needed; in a heartbeat she was in the air, flying on the back of her Black Rose Dragon.
And so it began.
At Strider's request she took down all the siege towers. Ivy Shackle did most of the work, turning all these structures into living plants; then it was only using Fragrance Storm on these targets, the swift magic making them implode one by one. She was feeling the strain when she reached the thirteenth siege tower, but it was the last; the soldiers on the ground did their fair share. Then she set Wall of Thorns and Black Garden before the gate of the great walled city and stood on guard there, hidden among the black blooms of her garden.
As the day waned a group of soldiers entered her realm. She was surprised at first; for the whole day none dared to step into her stronghold of black flowers. But soon she saw those men were carrying a stretcher. Someone hurt in need of a hospital inside the city, or some sort of trick to infiltrate? She pondered a few moments, and finally stepped out into their path.
Upon a good look at the company, her first reaction was: they are all humans; that's a great start. And then she had to shake her head slightly at the absurdity of her thought. She had never imagined that species would become a useful criterion in judging good and evil! Then Aki noticed the person lying on the stretcher; it was a young woman not much older than herself, with long blonde hair but dressed in the armor of a man. A Joan of the Arc of sort? Aki wondered to herself. She wanted to get closer, to see how the blonde woman was hurt and if she could help, but the leader of the group, another tall dark-haired wearing armor embossed with a swan-like ship, was looking at her rather sternly. Aki appraised the group once more and saw the design of a white tree on the leader's vambrace. Allies and good guys, she surmised, and was content to let them pass. The leader—the swan prince, as Aki secretly named him—did not enter the city for some reason, but followed her back through the garden to the open field.
When they emerged the edge of the black garden again Aki saw Strider's black banner approach, the stars upon the banner shining brightly in the waning sunlight. Strider rode up to them accompanied by two men of his company and another golden-haired stranger. He looked terrible in more ways than one, so fierce, an awe-inspiring thing, yet at the same time he was covered with battle grime and was absolutely exhausted. He said a few cryptic words of greeting to the swan prince, before asking Aki to reopen the city gate.
"Is the battle over then?" Aki ventured a question tentatively.
"Yes, it is for now, at a great price," Strider murmured tiredly, "But the war is far from over, and what lies beyond is hidden from all mortal sights. I thank you for your aid again, Aki, now come with me. Men are pitching tents as we speak; I deem you could use some rest after such a day."
With that he dismounted and helped Aki onto his own horse. After another small exchange with the swan prince and the blond stranger, Strider parted way with them; the other twos went into the city, while Strider spurred his horse towards where his own men were setting up tents on the open field.
As they rode, Aki asked worriedly, "Are you quite alright, Strider? You are injured; is it really bad? Maybe we should stop and take a look at it."
"I am quite alright," Replied Strider somewhat absently.
Aki rolled her eyes. "What is it, a men thing?" She whispered, "I know you are not alright. I am not that blind I can't see blood seeping through from underneath that leather vambrace, and that your right hand is pretty immobile right now. Seriously, is it really bad? I am a medical student, remember? I can wrap it right now and make sure you aren't bleeding to death if it's bad."
Strider chuckled, at least it sounded like a chuckle. And then he sobered and said, "It is not so bad that I am in danger of bleeding out, though your offer is greatly appreciated. Do you know how to suture a wound? I might need your help yet."
By the time they reached the rest of Strider's company, they saw that three tents were already up. One tent housed the wounded, and that was where Strider visited first; only after seeing all wounded men were attended to by those in his company with healing skills did he leave with a measure of relief. All the while Aki watched him with worry, wondering if she should remind him that he really ought to have his own hurt checked.
After a few moments Strider turned towards her. As if sensing her worry Strider nodded and said, "Worry not, my injury is not so grievous that I cannot spare these few moments. But come."
They settled down in the third empty tent. Strider handed Aki a bag and said, "I have in there healing supplies, needle and thread and such, take a look and tell me if you know how to use them."
Aki opened the bag and saw rolls of bandages, a variety of herbs wrapped in fabric, though there seemed to be more fabric than herbs left, and also a small leather pouch that held three curved silver needles of varying sizes and some catgut wrapped in a square of linen. She eyed the needles and thread suspiciously; they looked clean enough, but being a med student, she couldn't possibly trust "looking clean enough". She sighed and mumbled, "You won't happen to have alcohol, would you?"
Strider said in a dry voice, "No, though there may be a little water for that."
"The needle at least I can sterilize over fire, but the thread is catgut!" Aki said, face growing paler, "Natural catgut is terrible, and water won't much good in cleaning it. If it's not sanitized, it all but guarantees your wound will become infected. Seriously, I can't stick dirty needle and that kind of thread in your body! That will probably just kill you faster."
Strider had already loosened his vambrace and cleaned his hands as best he could, now he was dabbing the wound clean with a wet cloth. Hearing her words he only said with a grimace, "I will take the chance and live with a suture; we must all make do with what we have. But at least you sound like you know perfectly well what you are doing."
Aki shuffled closer to look at his wound, and she could not help but feel a little queasy despite having served on a hospital's emergency floor. A gaping cut slashed across his upper forearm, right between his elbow and where the vambrace's protection ended. The cut narrowly missed the major vein, for which everyone could be thankful, but it was still deep enough to slash into muscles. One could barely tell the color of his skin, for it was black and blue with bruises, or else covered by blood and grime, that even the glaring red mark of the Crimson Dragon was almost obscured.
Seeing her uneasy look Strider spoke in a soft voice, "I am sorry, my lady, for laying the burden on you, but I do not wish for my friends and companions to see… this."
Aki blinked, and then realized that Strider wasn't talking about the wound, he was talking about the Crimson Dragon's mark. Aki stood up, and almost impulsively, she pushed back her sleeve and rolled her long woolen glove down to her wrist. The exactly same red mark in the form of a grasping claw was seared onto her arm, the red sign all but glowing against her ivory skin.
"I used to think this is the sign of some sort of terrible curse," Aki said, pointing to the mark, "For the first seventeen years of my life I hated it, hated myself, fought against everything around me like a wild animal. Until someone taught me that I should never be ashamed of what I am, neither hate nor fear myself, and whatever I am capable of, what I actually do is still my choice to make."
So sudden was her fiery outbreak that Strider could only look up at her in silent amazement. His gaze made her blush, and she rolled back her glove and smoothed her sleeve again. "I am sorry, the whole issue touched a raw nerve," She murmured, "But that's neither here nor there. Your wound, I am afraid it might be problematic. It needs subcutaneous stitches, and with no forceps and no surgical scissors, this will be a long and drawn out process. You will also anesthetics, local, not just topical."
Strider was looking at her with puzzlement, and Aki sighed. Apparently whatever mystic power that was translating between them cannot quite explain all the medical terms on the first try. So she said again, "Your cut is too deep; it will need at least two layers of sutures, and I don't have the tools to do this quickly and efficiently. It is bound to be a slow and painful process. Do you have some herbs that can just put you to sleep?"
Strider shook his head slowly and said, "No, I do not want drug-induced sleep right now. We do not have the time for a delicate procedure either; just use the largest needle and sew deeper, pack everything tightly, it will have to do."
Aki glared at him. "I am sorry, I do have professional ethics to adhere to. I am not doing anything that will jeopardize your use of that arm in the long run." A pause, and then she added, "I also don't want to kill you from the pain."
Strider was silent for a long a while and at last said with a sigh, "You realize, my lady, that my world stands at the brink of the final battle. Does it matter how well my arm is, if we all fall to the shadows in the last confrontation? I only need something to hold the wound together so that I may still hold my sword in the coming battles. I cannot linger long here, other needs call me. Just help me stitch the wound together; I cannot do it myself with my left hand."
At his words Aki could feel tears in her eyes again. She never did learn what exactly this war was about, other than the fantastic dragon-riding enemies, yet Strider always seemed so resigned when he spoke of it, as if he was afraid to hope, afraid to foresee a happy ending, at least for himself. But he would not simply accept defeat either; he was throwing himself from one battle to the next, out of desperation or duty or inability to do anything else or whatever, she did not know. She drew a breath and put her hand on his wrist lightly.
"Look, there might be something else," She said in an earnest voice, "If you will let me, I can try to heal you. Not with needle and thread and herbs. I have done it a few times before; I healed my friends and myself after a particular trying duel, and I brought back a dying little boy at the hospital. Here in your world my power seems especially uninhibited, maybe I can try…"
Strider drew back his arm sharply, grey eyes narrowing and shining with a hardened glint.
"What?" Aki blinked with confusion.
"So now you can make hurts gone without a trace and bring back the dead?" Strider's voice was full to the brim with distrust.
Aki raised an eyebrow and shot back, "After I grew a garden in the midst of an empty field and called out a dragon, now a bit healing power throws you off?"
"I am a healer myself," Strider said, expression still hard, "It is not healing power that troubles me. I would gladly accept your skills if you plan to use that needle and the thread."
Just then the tent flap opened and a few others entered. Strider swept his sleeve down over his arm, so abrupt was his motion that Aki winced in pain for him. "Don't do that to yourself!" She hissed at him.
A dark-haired man and an elder in white robe entered the tent. The dark-haired man Aki recognized as one of Strider's company, but the old man was a stranger. She looked at him curiously. Why, he looked at least seventy, if not eighty years old, with those snowy-white hair and beard. Why was he so close to the frontline of battle? The old man too was looking at her, black eyes behind bushy eyebrows thoughtful and none-too-friendly.
But quickly the old chap turned towards Strider and said something, to which Strider replied with surprise, "Indeed? Yes, I will come with you, Gandalf. But let me quickly bind my own scrapes before visiting the wounded, lest I make them even more ill."
With that he went to his bag and fished out his remaining bandages. He rolled up his sleeves with his back turned towards the newly come companions, and using just his left hand and his teeth, began to wrap his wound clumsily.
Aki jumped up. "Are you serious?" She said incredulously, "Look, that wound needs to be treated, and your arm really should be in a sling, yet you plan to play doctor with an open gash on your arm?"
Strider glanced at her, but did not respond, only continued his task of binding his arm. Aki shook her head and said with frustration, "You are just taking advantage of the fact your companions don't understand me, so I can't tell them to stop you, is that it? At least let me help you. You didn't refuse my help on the battlefield, so why refuse now?"
Strider knotted the end of the bandage and pulled it tight, before raising his head and giving her a long and hard look. "Stay here and rest, my lady," That was all he said before he turned and left.
Strider did not return for a long time. The sky had just turned dark when he left, and now even the moon was sinking, still there was no sign of him. A couple men in his company came and brought Aki food and water at one point; they smiled at her as if comforting a child, but their smiles were reserved and distant. As time dragged on Aki grew more worried; really, what was Strider thinking? His wound would soon be past suturing if this dragged out any longer. When even the moon sank beneath the mountains Aki decided enough was enough. She wrapped the cloak around her tightly and slipped out of the tent, making her way to the White City.
The very first gateway stood empty, and indeed the outermost part of the city was in utter ruins. No one wandered there, she only saw piles of broken stone and rubble. As she moved up the hill and deeper into the city, she began to see more people despite the ungodly hour. When she went past the fifth gate (or rather, after she climbed over the fifth wall), she saw many people gathered around a great building. By the faint light of many candles and torches she saw stretchers carrying the wounded and the sick—this looked like a field hospital; Strider was probably here.
Aki wove among the outer ring of the people, looking for Strider, but all she saw was the unending imagery of human suffering. There were many men pale and unconscious on stretchers, others with ghastly wounds bleeding through bandages, or even a limb or two fewer than they should have. The myriad of hurts made her stomach churn, and she was glad that she barely had any food to eat in the past few days. In her search Aki eventually came upon a woman. She seemed younger than most of people here, and she sat on the ground a distance away from the rings of people, all by herself, and she was crying piteously into her scarf. The woman didn't seem to be hurt herself, but her weeping was even more wretched than most others. Aki watched her for a few seconds with uncertainty, and then approached tentatively.
"Are you hurt in some way? Are you here to see a healer? Maybe you should move closer to the other people waiting." Aki said, gesturing all the while.
The woman only glanced at her, and then continued her wailing. Aki stepped near her and was about to offer more consolation when she suddenly noticed something. There was a wheelbarrow beside the crying woman, and a child sat inside the wheelbarrow, or one should say, what was once a child sat inside the wheelbarrow. It was a little girl, seven maybe eight years old, wearing a simple linen dress, and with her dark hair and green eyes, she would have looked the perfect little angel. But now the angel was covered with horrific looking burns, her hands, arms and feet were all red and black, and she only had half a face left, the other half was a mangled swollen mess. The little child's eyes were open, wide but unseeing, and she never moved, as if she was already dead.
Aki took a deep breath and pushed down all her desire to cry and to flee, and tried to assess the situation scientifically. Third degree burn on the child's feet, second degree on hand and arms, and second degree on her face; those third degree burn on her feet were, what, maybe seven or eight percent of the body surface, and the rest of the burns added up to about fifteen percent. It would have been a major burn on anyone, never mind a child so young; fluid loss, hypovolemia, and cardiac system failure, all of these symptoms were either already manifested or about to. The child needs IV treatment right now, and maintenance fluid on top of that; her feet probably need surgical procedures too. Aki cursed softly under her breath. She was standing in the middle of a war torn medieval city! She couldn't even find alcohol for sanitation purpose, how could she possibly put together an IV unit, or find someone who can perform burn surgeries? And the child will die any moment. The child's mother was still crying beside her, and the wails fell on Aki's heart like hammers. She felt she could barely breath.
Suddenly a very familiar emergency room flashed before her eyes. She heard her own voice, escaping into the room with a panicked shrill, "Blood pressure dropping, still dropping; Doctor it's not stabilizing at all…" And then the monotonous and drawn out beep of the heart monitor cut across the thick air of the room like a knife, and everyone, everything fell utterly silent for a second. And then it was uproar again. "Get the defibrillator online!" Doctor Heinlein shouted, "We have to try, try everything we can. He is eleven years old…"
Aki felt she was back at that moment, when all the shock and panic and heartache melded together into only one thought echoing between the walls of her skull.
"I wish you will live," She whispered.
She extended a hand and touched her trembling fingers to the girl child's face, the good half of her face that was still cream and peach. "I wish you will live," Aki repeated, tears flowing free now, "No one should suffer like this, especially not you, little one. You have your whole life in front of you, a whole age. I wish you will grow up and see everything there is to see."
And the little girl blinked her sparkling green eyes. Her charred skin and flesh smoothed back into creamy unbroken skin, as if the burns never happened, and the child's fingers curled and uncurled, each time with more vigor. Aki stared at her, unblinking and unmoving, a hand still on the child's face. Eventually the child cried out and stood up. She nearly capsized the wheelbarrow and fell over, if it were not for her mother snatching her up and hugging her so tightly that the child cried again in protest. So the mother released her daughter; she knelt down in front of Aki and kissed her hand with a fervent piety.
The woman's cries and shouts finally seemed to attract attention. People turned around, slowly forming a ring around them, staring balefully and murmuring amongst themselves. Aki stood there frozen, like a deer caught in the headlight. But awkward as it was, she did not feel like she wanted to run and hide. No, rather, she wanted to help those people. Except there was still the language barrier, and even if it weren't for that, she had no idea what she should say in either case.
Suddenly Strider emerged from the crowd. He was at her side in a few strides, and gripped her arm tightly. "What are you doing here?" He asked, voice a low hiss.
"I, I came looking for you," Aki said, "I am worried about you. You do know there is only a twelve-hour window for sutures right?" She was staring at his arm, almost as if trying to see through his sleeve and bandage to assess the state of his injury.
"What did you do?" He did not seem to hear her, only questioned once more, gesturing towards the green-eyed little girl discreetly.
Aki blinked slowly and then lowered her head. "I wanted to help; the poor child shouldn't die. I mean if I were in my own world, if I could put together an IV unit, find a surgeon who knows how to deal with deep burns, she could probably make it. But here, here... She was about to die any moment! There was nothing else I could do, except this. You are a doctor too, surely you know what I mean, Strider."
Strider looked at her in silence, still as a statue of stone. Finally Aki shifted with nervous energy and said, "Are we just going to stand here? You look terrible, by the way. Let me look at your arm; even if you won't let me heal you, I suppose I can do the kind of suture you asked for. And then you should probably rest."
Strider nodded very slowly, and then said, "I am indeed near the end of my strength, though there are a few more men there who need stitches and splints. I would be most grateful if you are willing to help. Those are only simple tasks. There is none other like that girl child; she was indeed fortunate to live until now. You must not." With that he held out the water skin and motioned for her hands.
He didn't quite finish the sentence, but Aki knew well what he meant. So she nodded silently while washing her hands, and then took the bag of supplies and the water skin from him. When she first approach the crowd the people all shrank back, guarded and fearful. Strider came up behind her and spoke to the crowd, before guiding her to a young man lying on a stretcher. Aki saw the young man had a broken arm and a deep cut on his calf. After brief examination, she determined that the break was clean and uncomplicated, and the cut was certainly much easier to sew up than Strider's injury. Aki quickly began working, first setting the young man's arm, binding and splinting it; then she sewed up the cut on the calf. This time there was anesthetics for the patient (a kind of opiate extracted from the poppy plant, it seemed), though the thread was still catgut and made her cringe. For the first few minutes Aragorn watched her intently, but seeing everything was in order he nodded at her and returned to tend others.
After Aki was done with a fourth patient, she rose to find that every sick and wounded gathered seemed to be attended to. She used the last bit of water to rub her hands clean of blood and gore, and then breathed out a deep sigh. It has been a very long day, and she was beginning to feel the exhaustion setting in. Strider walked towards her and said, "Thank you, my lady. We are all but done here; my companions will finish with the last few wounded. We can return to the tent now if you are ready."
"Wait, one more thing," Aki said hurriedly, "Can you ask the people here for some more supplies? Namely that anesthetics, the drink they had that put patients to sleep. Also can you ask them if they have any strong liquor? I am sure the city is better stocked than your company; they probably have those things."
Strider raised an eyebrow. "Why?"
Aki could only look at him with exasperation. "Do you not care about your arm at all? I am not sure how you lasted through tonight to begin with, but seriously, that injury needs to be treated."
Strider's face twisted into a small wry smile, and he said, "I barely used my right arm tonight, for I left the tasks of suturing wounds and binding bones to others, and only attended those that truly needed my skills. I am not so ignorant of self-preservation, my lady."
"That's good. When we get back to the tent you can go to sleep, and I will sew up your arm. You did say you will let me help if it's done with needle and thread, right?"
Strider fell silent once more, silver eyes now gazing at her; he seemed conflicted, tormented, even.
"I understand why you don't want me to just heal you," Aki said softly, "My power frightens people, I understand that. But it's my power, my own; I didn't do anything wrong to come by this power, and ever since I learned how to control it I have not hurt any innocent. I haven't imposed on anyone's free will, and I am not about to start. But I do want to help. I want to save lives and I want to give you a better chance fighting those supernatural beings; that seems like an appropriate use of my power, isn't it?" Aki's voice was quiet, but she felt a wave of purpose and confidence like she never felt before.
And Strider suddenly took her hand and kissed it, and he said, "I have never doubted your intentions, Aki. A nobler heart I have seldom seen! Yet desires unconstrained are a dangerous thing, and evil can grow from the most pure and innocent of wishes." Here his expression grew fierce and his eyes like broiling storm clouds, "Do you doubt that all Boromir ever desired to was to defend his people and his home? Yet he erred and erred, and in the end it was you who ended his wrongs. And who guards the path you walk, my lady?"
