Chapter 38

Physic

Samaroh spent a long time examining Adiemus' eyes. Valkron, Raven and Emeth watched him from a corner of the room they were in, located somewhere in the basement.

"You never told me you were researching down here, Samaroh," said the knight.

"I didn't have anywhere else to do my work," replied the priest. "Every time I work in the Church I have acolytes and priests watching me, and laughing behind my back. I'm now The Priest Who Doesn't Use Magic All The Time."

"That name is too long, and it doesn't fit you," said Emeth. "The Non-Conformist is better."

"We're being serious here, Emeth," said valkron.

"What? So am I."

"Well, whatever name I get given I don't care." Samaroh got to his feet and rummaged around in his pack. "Don't move, Adiemus, I'm not done yet. It's just that people keep watching me, and every time I walk across the courtyards of the Church I've got acolytes running behind me singing some stupid song they made up. I know we're given choir practice, but it doesn't mean they can use their voices to sing about me."

"Choir practice? So that means you can sing?" asked Raven, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes, I can."

"You don't sound like it."

"I'm a tenor, if you want to know." Samaroh gave the rogue a look.

"So what do they sing?" asked Emeth interestedly.

"I don't know, it's not my job to listen to them." Samaroh drew out a strange, tied-up bundle from his pack and put it on the table. He pulled on the string; it came undone, and the bundle unravelled into a small cloth pouch. The three of them craned their necks to see what it carried.

The priest lit a candle, and then pulled out a small lens. He stood the candle quite close to Adiemus, who was sitting quite still as he watched the priest about his work, before kneeling down again and using the lens to examine the crusader's eyes again.

After a short while he got back to his feet and put away everything.

"Well?" asked Raven, looking worried.

"I don't know how to explain this." The priest nodded at Adiemus, who got to his feet as well. "It happens with old age. I'll try and make this clearer to you."

He leaned against the table and sighed. "In our eye we have something called a lens. By use of muscles attached to the edges of the lens, we can focus on objects easily, whether they are close or far. With me so far?"

They nodded.

"The lens is special. It's like...a transparent tissue, and looks like this," he held up the little magnifying lens he had used earlier, "without the frame. In Adiemus' case, the lens has become opaque, so he cannot see much out of it."

"But it affects both his eyes," said Raven, looking at Adiemus.

"Well, most people don't usually know they have it until there is some loss of sight. It's fairly common, although I've noticed that most of the old people who have it aren't bothered by it. Much."

"Is there anything that can be done?" asked the crusader. "It's not a very enriching experience to be a half-blind warrior."

"Yes, true," agreed Samaroh. "But you're not intending to retire?"

"Not any time soon."

Samaroh shrugged. "I've been looking up about this, ever since I noticed an old woman in one of the nearby villages affected by it. The Old Empire, corrupted as it was, was highly advanced in this sort of thing. Luckily I've found someone who can make the tools to correct such age-related conditions."

"What? You can't heal it with magic?" asked Raven, in a disbelieving tone.

"No," answered the priest. "Magic cannot do everything."

"So what are we going to do?"

Samaroh looked up at them.

"Well," he said, "there is one way to help out. However, I don't actually have the tools with me at the moment, and I have to ask permission from Adiemus himself as well as a member of his family to do what should be done."

They stared at him.

"What do you mean?" asked Valkron, eventually.

Samaroh coughed politely. "I mean that I can fix the problem, but not with magic."

"And you need their permission?"

"Yes." The priest smiled a little. "However, I can assure you that it will be safe, and he can go home on the same day it is done."

"What is it?" Adiemus asked, much to the horror of the other three.

Samaroh straightened up. "The condition you have is cataracts, and it can be surgically corrected."

"Surgically?" asked the three of them.

"Yes. I use tools and fix the problem. By hand."

"Wait a minute," said Raven, frowning. "Isn't that risky? What if you make a mistake?"

"Surgery does have its risks," said the priest. "But sometimes it's the only way to get something done."

They looked at each other. They looked at Adiemus.

He said, "Does this mean Alya has to be notified?"

Alya was having breakfast in the hall of Nuernberg when the assistant manager of the castle came to give out letters to her guildmates.

"Tori?"

"Here!" A young archer caught the letter as it sailed towards her.

"Indil?"

"Over here!"

"Asith?"

"Pass it along the bench."

Alya watched her friends laugh and tease each other as they opened their letters.

"Miss Alya?"

She looked up, surprised. The assistant manager was holding out a letter to her.

"Oh, thank you." The sage took it. He nodded at her, before moving on to the next bench.

Alya frowned a little. On the front was written, in neat, slanting handwriting,

To: Alya

Nuernberg, Luina

Al de Baran.

A small Prontera stamp was affixed to the corner.

She turned the envelope over. On the back was written, in the same neat handwriting,

If unsent, please return to:

Father Samaroh at the Prontera Church

or

Samaroh

Repherion, Britoniah

Geffen.

"Samaroh?" she said aloud.

"Eh?" A priestess further along the bench looked up, amidst the chatter from her neighbours. "Father Samaroh?"

"He's sent me a letter," replied the sage. "I wonder why. Any ideas?"

"Well, he's not interested in women, and he's usually researching, so I have no idea," said the priestess. "Maybe he wants to discuss something with you."

Alya looked puzzled. Why would a priest discuss something with a sage? For all she knew, priests had been at loggerheads with wizards and sages for their 'ignorance of God'.

She took it up to her room later on, where she slit it open with a paper knife. Very carefully she slipped out the neatly folded piece of paper within.

To Alya,

At this moment you are probably trying to figure out as to the reason I am writing to you. The reason is simple.

As a priest I usually research on methods of helping people recover from illnesses. You may or may not have heard stories about me, but what I do is completely relevant to my interests.

A few days ago, I diagnosed your father as suffering from cataracts. There are no current regulations as to performing surgery - using tools to fix a condition by hand - but I am obeying the rules set by the Old Empire. One of them is that permission must be granted by the person undergoing the surgery as well as a close family member.

Because of this I wish to see you almost immediately regarding the situation. Please do respond with utmost urgency - your father's situation may worsen if nothing is done about it soon.

Yours sincerely,

(Signed)Samaroh.

Alya stared at the lines of neat, slanting handwriting. She was stunned by this piece of news.

My father...suffering from a condition? she thought. What is he talking about?

She frowned. Is this some kind of plot to get me back to my father again? I cannot trust the Raulus at this time.

Alya pondered for a long while. Eventually, she made up her mind.

Valkron looked through the lists again.

"Right," he said. "We've got a hundred people now, and a fair amount of Payonese who want to help defend Bamboo Grove Hill. We might deploy them."

"Who's leading them?" asked Iruna. She and Emeth were sitting together with him in his room, looking through the rest of the lists.

"Let's see...well, I can always ask for this fellow." He pointed at a name on the list he was holding. They leaned over the table to look at it.

"Shen?" asked Emeth.

"Yeah. Ex-Payonese guard. I'm sure he'll do well in Bamboo Grove Hill."

"Odd of you to say that," said Iruna. "When did you get to know him?"

"A few years back, when I was doing a mission in Payon," said Valkron. "He'd been fired from his job for something he did not do. I helped him investigate a case, and he managed to save the Payonese Royal family. He's a mercenary now. I can see he's eager to join and help out."

"Isn't everyone like that?" asked Iruna. "Well, all right then. About the waiting list, though...you need to do something about it."

Valkron looked at it. He looked down. And down.

"Well...all right. I'll go and see the people on it later on. Anymore to see to?"

"Well, not really...except for a few things..." began Emeth.

Suddenly there was a thunderous knocking on the door. Valkron got to his feet and opened it.

"Alya's here," said the perseon who had banged on the door.

"Alya?" said the three, in surprise.

And indeed, the guild leader of the Seven Eyes was waiting in the hallway of Repherion when they got to the ground floor. Emeth quickly moved behind Iruna. The crusader gave him an amused look.

"Are you here to see Samaroh?" asked Valkron.

"Yes," she said. "I want to see what this fiasco is all about."

"What fiasco?"

"This rubbish about my father being afflicted by a condition that needs whatever to fix it!"

Valkron stared at her for a few minutes. Then he said, "I think you might find it suitable if you follow me."

Adiemus and Raven had been residing in Repherion for the few days it took for the letter to reach Nuernberg. Samaroh had taken to examining him every now and then, but he did not do it with such a frequency that annoyed Adiemus. When they walked into the basement they found Samaroh explaining to Adiemus.

"...means that the anaesthetic is only focused on the area of operation itself, while a general anaesthetic just knocks you out completely."

"You mean I don't feel anything at all?" asked Adiemus.

"No. If you're under local anaesthetic you won't really feel much, but you're still awake and you can listen to me as I tell you what's going on."

"Samaroh!" said Alya, causing the priest to jump. "What is the meaning of this?"

"What? Oh, hi, Alya," said Samaroh distractedly, still shaken by her sudden shout. "I wasn't expecting you to respond to my letter so quickly--"

In several strides Alya had crossed the room and grabbed Samaroh by the collar. She yanked him towards her.

"What joke are you trying to play with me?" she growled, as the priest tried to loosen her grip without succeeding. "You come and send me a letter about my father, and now you're here just talking to him about your rubbish? As a priest I thought you'd be a lot more honest than this!"

"The Black Cross has made you mistrust even more, I see," said Adiemus quietly.

Alya released Samaroh's collar. "What's going on?"

"I cannot see much, Alya," came the soft, gentle reply. "My eyesight is blurred. According to Samaroh my eyes have clouded over, and no magic can hear it."

"Nonsense!" said Alya. "Why would we use magic for, then? The wizards use it all the time! Priests have never failed to heal anything wth their magic!"

"That, Alya, is where you are wrong."

They looked at Samaroh. He had drawn himself up to his full height, and looked like he was ready to debate with her.

"White magic can heal wounds, whether they are self-inflicted or gained in battle, accidents...whatever. However, some situations such as dislodging of an organ or bone, and all age rlated illnesses and diseases cannot be treated with magic."

"How would you know, Samaroh?" snapped Alya. "You stay in the library researching things, not getting down to doing anything apart from teaching acolytes how to sing in the choir!"

"Research has been made by the Old Empire regarding the limitations of white magic," replied Samaroh stolidly. "It has been proven, hundreds of times, that white magic does not cure certain diseases, no matter how miraculous it may seem."

"But you have not seen it yourself! How can you stand by historical documents that may have been written by absolute fakes?"

It was probably the final straw for Samaroh, because Valkron saw his eyes flash.

"And what do YOU know about the body and healing, Alya?"

She stepped back, a shocked expression on her face. The priest was clearly angry, and he was not stopping.

"I've done my own experiments on other people, and myself," he said angrily. "I've researched about this subject. And this time no one is going to tell me that I am wrong. I have hundreds of years' worth of research and evidence behind what I do. It is physic, the opposite of magic, and I will swear my life on this that I will use it to save the people who need it and not listen to people who think magic is everything and depend on it as if their lives were made of it! Your father needs seeing to, and if surgery is the only way to help him then I'll do it!"

She stared at him. Adiemus sighed, and closed his eyes.

"He speaks the truth, Alya," he said. "I've already granted him permission. All he wanted to do was to tell you what is going to happen, and ask for your permission as well."

The sage deflated. Valkron suspected that she had never lost an argument in her life - well, until now.

"Looks like Samaroh's argumentative side does have a use to it, after all," Iruna whispered in his ear.

Finally Alya said, "All right. I let you have permission."

Samaroh nodded stiffly. "Very well. Adiemus?"

"It's fine if you want to do it immediately," replied the crusader quietly.

"That's settled, then. The tools should be coming in at any time soon." Samaroh nodded at him, and went out of the basement.

They looked at each other.

The operation took place the very next day. When Samaroh had received what he had sent for they had come to take a look, and found themselves staring at some of the strangest things. They were made of steel, and looked twisted and cruel. But mostly sharp.

"Don't look at them if you want to have an appetite later on," Samaroh had warned. His anger from the previous day had not died down fully - Valkron didn't expect it to, since Alya had opted to stay and wait for her father - so he was still cold and curt.

It took place in a room Samaroh had chosen. He had 'disinfected' it - well, that was what it had sounded like, and he had not explained it. He had also done it to himself; it was a sickly smell.

So they waited. And surprisingly, it only took about fifteen minutes.

"Yeah, I never said it would take long, would it?" said Samaroh, as he took off the rubber gloves he had worn for the whole thing and pulled off the mask he wore.

"So what happens now?" asked Emeth.

Samaroh beckoned him over. "Help me out with this, Emeth. Could all of you leave?"

They waited for a short while, before Samaroh and Emet came back.

"You can see him now," said the priest, now smiling.

Adiemus was sitting up in bed. Upon seeing him Alya cried out and rushed to his side.

"Father, your eyes--!"

"They're fine," he said. "Don't worry, Alya."

The sage reached out and lightly touched the thick white bandage that covered his eyes.

"I had to do that," said the priest. "They have to heal. They will heal quickly, of course, but for now it's fine. No blood, nothing...Adiemus will tell you that."

"Yes, he talked to me throughout the whole thing," said Adiemus. "He told me about what he was doing, and everything else in between. I didn't really see what he did, but there wasn't any pain."

"Ah, thank local anaesthetic for that," said the priest.

"So when can he take the bandage off?" Alya asked him.

"Tomorrow," said the priest. "It takes very little time for the cuts I made to heal. By the way, Adiemus - if you intend to read, you might consider a pair of glasses."

"What did you do, exactly?" asked Iruna curiously.

"I removed the lenses of both eyes and inserted a special man-made lens in," came the reply. "I had them made for this. Although Adiemus can see long distance and just in front of him, he can't see anything closer than that because the lenses cannot focus. He'll need a pair of glasses to read or do any similar activity."

"I can't believe you spend your time wearing a blindfold in battle, Iruna," said Adiemus, turning his head. "It feels strange, being in darkness."

"Now you know how it feels," she said, grinning. "So don't pester me next time, okay?"

Adiemus laughed. "I won't."

They left him and Alya together, smiling.

Several days later, Valkron received a letter from Adiemus. He read it quickly.

Then he went to get Samaroh.

"Read," he said, showing the letter to the priest.

Samaroh took the letter.

To Valkron,

I am astonished at my eyesight now! It has become better than before. Although I do require glasses, it is a minor thing; I have never been happier in my life.

Just recently I went to see an old friend of mine, who also suffers from the same condition. He tells me that no priest, crusader or monk can cure him of that condition. When he learned of the operation I had he was surprised, and said that there has never been such a thing before, but he would like to try it.

Samaroh deserves more praise than I can give him. Please do give him my regards and tell him that I am grateful for what he has done - so grateful that thanks is but a mere word, and there is no such word in the entire world that can express myself in this situation, Thank you, Samaroh.

Your good friend,

(Signed)Adiemus

When Samaroh lowered the letter, Valkron was smiling.

"Well done, Samaroh," he said.

Several days afterwards, Valkron was working away in the meeting room when Emeth walked up to him and sat down, putting quite a large number of papers on the table.

"Samaroh's been quite...happy lately," said the wizard. "According to Iruna, he's also been praying a lot."

"Well, he's probably offering his thanks to his god for making him so successful," replied Valkron. Although he hadn't looked up from his work, he was smiling.

"Well, the Church isn't too happy with him," the wizard remarked worriedly. "The idea of him spreading around the concept of Physic might make people think that there's no need for the Church."

"He's told me that Physic doesn't work as instantaneously as magic does. That's the advantage white magic has over Physic, really. I doubt the usage of magic will ever die out." Valkron looked at Emeth without raising his head. "Especially not with you around."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You know what I mean." Valkron went back to his work.

Emeth sighed. "So, where else are you going to try for? Bamboo Grove Hill's success is driving the lists towards saturation point."

"I'm finishing off with Yesnelph and Bergel for the next two days," said Valkron. "Then I'll see where we're going. The Dark is coming, though."

"Argh, don't remind me," said Emeth, burying his face in his hands. "Stupid...preparations...I have to do the same spells for Britoniah as I did with Geffen to defend us. The human race is annoying me."

"You're one, so don't go on about it," said the knight. "And don't offend me either, because I'm one too. Now stop it and go and finish your work. I don't have the time to listen to a raving wizard."

Emeth muttered something under his breath, but returned to work anyway.

In the Geffen Magic Academy, someone slipped into the Theory of Magic classroom and began to chant. The classroom glowed for a second, before the light faded away into the night.

"Heh. 'Can you manage to even do it?' Of course I can." The person grinned. "I'll show it to you."

Got all sciency here. Don't blame me, it's exam fever.