Chapter Four

"Dr. Ayla Soryn, you have been summoned here today in front of the Medical Board to recount your involvement with the controversial case of the deceased patient, Mr. Andrew Gath."

Ayla sat in the hot seat before the Medical Board, because they believed that she had to prove her case that it was medically just and sound. Of course she wasn't the only one being grilled, just a few hours before her associate Dr. Pamela Hana, the Resident Director was in her place, having to recount the case word for word.

"The deceased patient in question had stage four terminal cancer that had started in his lungs and then traveled to his lymph nodes; metastasizing rapidly to the point where our conventional pain medications were no longer enough." Ayla began, finding this meeting to be pointless since she did nothing wrong. "He had then decided to stop all treatments because of how aggressive the cancer had become and while he was still in a sound state of mind had signed a DNR. The medical staff had done everything in their control to make the patient as comfortable as possible but the round-the-clock pain medication wasn't enough for the patient who then requested to be euthanized humanely. Thus an expedited order was put in."

"Euthanizing patients is a very controversial subject here in the State of Washington. In some cases; illegal."

Ayla resisted the urge to click her tongue and rolled her eyes, resigning to simply recross her legs by the knees and crossing her arms under her breasts. "The patient had signed a consent for a euthanasia with the witnesses being Dr. Hana, myself, the patient's lawyer and the patient's spouse. As doctors I know we all take an oath of Do No Harm, but when it comes to a patient suffering with no good ending, then it is our jobs as doctors to do what is best to end the patient's suffering, even if it means to consent to their wish of taking death into our hands instead of waiting for the patient to die."

"You and Dr. Hana proceeded without consulting with the Board."

"To put in an appeal for the Board to approve the request for the patient to end his life was pointless and a waste of time."

"Waste of time?"

"By the time you would have taken to review the appeal the patient would have died an agonizingly slow death all because he needed an O-K from people who shouldn't have a say on whether he should die on his terms or suffer a few hours more."

"Dr. Soryn, I warn you that you are walking on thin ice right now. Please, continue with your side of the case."

Ayla took in a deep breath, finding the Board to be nothing more than a bunch of stick up rich bastards who drive sports cars that are inappropriate for their age. "In the State of Washington, for a person to be legally euthanized by free will with six months of less to live, they must be a born and raised citizen of Washington State. You can look it all up under the Death with Dignity Act of Washington State." She took another deep breath, seeing that the old farts in front of her weren't impressed. "The patient fell under those legal parameters, he was terminally ill with less than six months to live; he was a born and raised resident of Washington and wanted to die with dignity. As doctors, is it not our duty to do what is best for the patient?"

"And how is it that you got involved with Dr. Hana's patient?"

"Dr. Hana had asked me to be her witness while the patient's spouse and lawyer were present as protocol requires. Dr. Hana was the patient's primary care provider and I was the patient's surgeon when he needed his spleen removed after the cancer had destroyed it. Along with his prostate—but that was a separate issue years before."

"And why were you the one to deliver the lethal dose when the patient had requested Dr. Hana to do it?"

Ayla thought back to that day, the hesitation in her colleague's movements and the slight trembling in her hand that held the syringe. Ayla didn't know why she felt compelled to step in but she had a feeling it was because she dealt with life and death daily in the operating room and had lost more patients than Pamela.

"Dr. Hana had too much compassion for the patient and was unable to perform her duty, so I stepped in."

"Are you implying that you had no compassion when you gave the patient the lethal dose?"

"Please don't twist my words. It's true that I wasn't as close to the patient as Dr. Hana, but I am close to Dr. Hana and my compassion was to spare her of the guilt."

She remembered taking the syringe carefully from Pamela, touching the woman's shoulder and seeing the fear in her usually fearless eyes. She understood that this wasn't an easy job. Ayla stuck the needle into the rubber base of the IV bag and pushed the plunger all the way, allowing the lethal cocktail to travel down the IV tube and into the patient. They all stood back, waiting. The one thing that stuck to Ayla the most was that the patient smiled before finally passing.

"Thank you, Dr. Soryn, you may leave."

Ayla stood up and walked out of the conference room.

xxxxx

(Present)

Ayla was in the pit of hungry monsters. Orcs were her least favorite of creatures she had encountered in Middle Earth. It was just her luck that she got captured by orcs. She had saved a few orcs in the past, all of whom never thanked her but they didn't kill her, which was enough for her. She had learned the hard way that all life, no matter whose, was worth saving, whether she wanted to save them or not. She saved the lives of criminals and monsters, not because she was threatened, but because she didn't want to feel their deaths onto herself because she made the conscious choice to ignore them. The pain of another's death when she chose to let them die was more excruciating than any pain she had ever experienced.

"No! No!" Ayla screamed, resisting with everything she had as she was being dragged towards the rock that was covered in old, dried blood. They were going to kill her just for the sport of it.

She was thrown down onto the rock facing upward, her arms and legs bound by chains. The leader of the hoard picked up his axe and slowly approached Ayla. She tried to pull at the chains, desperate to escape with her head but could barely move an inch. With the axe raised up over her, Ayla could only watch in dread as the axe came down.

As the sun came up the orcs had long since abandoned their camp, moving through the mountain pass, leaving behind their garbage. Kwenthrith and Arlen had gotten lost during the night, only to find each other when confronted by patrolling dwarves who were on the hunt for the orcs. They were both taken as prisoners and forced to travel with them on the patrol when they finally came upon the abandoned camp site…and Ayla.

At the sight of the axe embedded in Ayla's chest, and the amount of blood that had stained the rocks and ground, Kwenthrith had lost the strength in her legs as she fell to her knees. Elves were not known for shedding tears or expressing sorrow but the love Kwenthrith had for Ayla was strong enough to make her weep for the woman whom she saw as a treasured friend. Arlen, on the other hand, was filled with rage and anger with a sudden lust for revenge.

One of the dwarves approached where Ayla's body lay, climbing up onto the rock and removing the axe from her chest. A sickening crunching sound could be heard, making the two elves cringe. Two more dwarves joined the first, assembling a makeshift stretcher to put her body on. The leader of the patrol commanded that they return to the mines to regroup. Arlen helped Kwenthrith stand as they followed the dwarves, neither of them able to look at the body. The two elves did not receive a warm welcome but were not thrown into the dungeon after explaining that they were travelling with Ayla, whom they knew the dwarves knew of her.

"Take the body down into the cold room." ordered Durin, the Dwarf King of Moria.

"I beg of you, My Lord," Kwenthrith said, finally finding her voice, "Allow me to follow them so that I may clean and prepare the…my friend."

King Durin looked up at Kwenthrith, seeing the sorrow in her violet eyes, he could not help but feel sympathy for her as he nodded his consent for her to follow the dwarves down into the deepest part of the mine where it was so cold that ice and rock were one.

xxxxx

(Past)

"Do you ever wonder what death feels like?" Pamela asked while she and Ayla sat in the hospital's chapel after their mandatory psych evaluations the day after the euthanasia patient.

"That's a morbid subject, what brought that on?" Ayla asked as she brought her cup of coffee up to her lips and took a sip of the bitter hot liquid. Hospital coffee was the worst but it would have to do for now.

Pamela sighed as she crossed her legs and stuck a joint between her red lips and lit it up. "Has our job as doctors desensitize us to the point where we're on the verge of becoming sociopaths?"

"You mean we're not already?"

"You make a good point." she said while sucking in the smoke and holding it in her lungs before letting it out slowly. Ayla took the joint from Pamela's fingers, trading it with her cup of disgusting hospital coffee and took in a long drag. "If I had a choice in my own death I would like to die while in a depraved orgy of gorgeous men."

They switched again.

"I haven't given it much thought before. I guess dying in my sleep would be okay, comfortable in my own bed without knowing it was coming."

"What would be the worst, you think?"

"I've seen enough zombie movies to say being eaten alive would probably suck a lot. What about you?"

"Choking on cock."

A silence fell over them before they both burst into laughter.

"We're definitely fucked up." Ayla laughed as they traded joint and coffee.

"Which is why we're such good friends." Pamela said, taking a sip of the coffee and grimacing.

Ayla blew out the smoke in an even stream. "This is some good stuff; you buy this in Pike's Market?"

"Makes up for the shit hospital coffee, right?"

"All we need now is some crushed up Percocet in the coffee and this day will fly by."

Pamela reached into her pocket of her lab coat and pulled out a bottle of pills. "It's not Percocet but it'll have a similar effect."

Ayla smirked, taking the bottle and reading the label: Oxycodone. "Must be nice being Resident Director, you get access to all the fun narcotics."

"And you surgeon jockeys have access to the anesthesia."

"Have you noticed when our job gets too hard we both come here to the hospital's chapel to get fucked up?"

"Why do you think most doctors become closeted drug addicts?"

"Well, it's hard to deny that we're not there." Ayla said, popping a pill into her mouth. The idea of death wasn't foreign to her, but when it came to it actually happening to her was hard to wrap her mind around. What would it feel like to actually die? Reading the label on the bottle again Ayla took notice of the expiration date. "Pam, these expired two years ago."

"So you'll get a delayed high, just pace yourself on the floor." Pamela said, taking the bottle from Ayla and popping two pills into her mouth.

xxxxx

(Present)

Kwenthrith could easily ignore the frigid cold of the store room where Ayla's body had been placed. The elf had taken it upon herself to bring clean water in a bucket with rags, cleaning Ayla's body. Knowing she was alone, she was able to cry freely. It had only been a day but for once time felt like it was moving too slow. She wanted the pain to go away quickly. Waiting in the wings of her sorrow was dread as she thought of how heartbroken the young prince would be to learn that Ayla was killed by orcs. Legolas would surely recoil back into himself and the light in her King's eyes will quickly dull once more.

She knew that her King had grown close with Ayla, more so in the last month before leaving. The evidence had been marked in Ayla's neck though Kwenthrith had kept it to herself. Kwenthrith had such hopes that Ayla would bring love back into her King's heart again, but that hope was now dead.

"Forgive me, Ayla," Kwenthrith whispered, her head bowed. "It should be me on this table, not you. We should have listened to you when you told us to turn back and find another route…it isn't fair."

"Kwenthrith," came Arlen's voice from the door. "Come back up, it is not healthy to stay here with just your grief to keep you company." He walked into the room and touched Kwenthrith's cold shoulder. "It is best to let her go."

It had been decided that at dawn Arlen and Kwenthrith would return to Mirkwood. The dwarves were generous in giving them supplies for the journey home and King Durin had invited them to join him for dinner.

"I owe the Lady Healer a great debt for what she has done for my people." said King Durin, "She saved many of my people from illness and much more. She taught us that death is never a permanent ending."

"She taught me many things in her trade as a healer, techniques that I would have never imagined to be possible." Kwenthrith said.

"She was also fearless." Arlen said.

"Did you know that when my people were ailing from a mysterious sickness I was but a mere youngling?" Durin asked, "My father was King then, when the Lady Healer walked through our gates she immediately took over." he chuckled at the memory. "She didn't care who was who, she immediately took charge and within a month all had gone back to normal and the Lady Healer left with a party of dwarves to the Lonely Mountain. My father was so grateful that he decreed that should the Lady Healer return, to immediately prepare a feast for her. And as you can see, I kept my father's vow, although under some dire circumstances."

"So then the tales were true. Ayla was immortal." Kwenthrith said.

"She is no ordinary human," Durin said, "I've seen her come back from death itself." Kwenthrith and Arlen exchanged looks before looking back at Durin who took a large bite of meat. "If gods do exist, then I believe Ayla is one of them, perhaps even the last of them."

"Such myths have no place in reality." Arlen said.

xxxxx

(Past)

A tiny bell chimed.

"Inhale through the nose and then exhale through the mouth, raising her chin to the ceiling. Now inhale again and exhale as we bend forward, bringing our palms to the floor. Step back with the right foot and fold the leg in front, stretching out those hamstrings and hips."

Friday morning in Seattle. A week after the euthanized patient case. Ayla was back to her routine, normalizing her days again as she cleared her mind. Yoga wasn't her go-to stress reliever but Pamela insisted that she give it a try every now and then. Normally Ayla would have simply gone to kickboxing class or simply stayed at home, binge-watching Netflix with a bottle of wine. But her friend had insisted that she join her every Friday for yoga, whether she liked it or not.

Ayla still couldn't stop thinking about that patient and she tried countless times to rationalize it. She had lost patients on the table before, why should that patient have been any different? Was it because she did it with the intention to kill versus trying to save him? Or was it because the patient had asked for death instead of waiting to suffer more? Had it been out of mercy or was it simple curiosity in knowing what it felt like to intentionally kill someone?

"What shitty weather we're having again." Pamela said as they stepped outside the studio.

"Makes me drowsy." Ayla said, wishing she had a cigarette.

"So tell me, are you going to visit your family this weekend for the home wrecker's birthday?"

"Fuck no," Ayla said, "I have no intention whatsoever to see those people ever again. I'd rather rip out my fingernails than go to another excuse of a family gathering. Besides, I think I've made myself clear the last time I saw Charlotte."

"Yes, husband snatchers seem to always have a superiority complex, don't they? Which reminds me, I had a mother bring in her ten year-old the other day who had a cold, and upon reading his medical history the poor kid was on at least a dozen medications that were actually making him worse. It was one of those classic cases of Munchausen bi-proxy." Pamela said, "I ended up writing a prescription for Xanax for the mother."

"Geez, parenting nowadays has become a blood-sport. Those poor kids deprived of Tweenkies and peanut butter and getting the measles all because their psycho parents don't do their proper research. Honestly, if I were a parent and my kid couldn't bring a PB&J sandwich school then I'd make a point that those anti-vaccer parents couldn't let their kids bring the plaque into the classroom."

"So true. It's a shame that those anti-vaccers can't see that they're doing more harm than good." Pamela said as they walked down the sidewalk towards a covered street corner where they waited for their Uber driver. "That patient's family sent me flowers with a Thank You card attached to it. Isn't that ridiculous?"

"None of my patients ever send me gifts." Ayla commented.

"I obviously threw them away after my day was over. Who would want to be reminded of something like that?"

"For doctors like us, very few cases stand out and stick around. It's gonna be awhile before we completely recover from something like that."

Pamela stared at her friend for awhile before speaking. "I never thanked you for stepping in that day. It's a simple thing to read about but when it comes to actually doing it, that's a whole different thing. If you weren't there I don't think I would have been able to step into that room let alone hold up that syringe."

Ayla looked back at the woman, seeing the sincerity in her eyes. "You would have done the same for me."

Pamela's pink lips strained to smile. "No, I'd probably lose my nerve again. I'm not that emotionally strong."

"Maybe I am a sociopath."

Pamela bumped her shoulder against Ayla's. "At least you're in the right profession if you are."

xxxxx

(Present)

Kwenthrith entered the cold store room where Ayla's body still lay. She choked down her sorrow, having promised herself to keep a steady head in honor of her friend. Entering slowly with a torch in hand she moved forward towards the body that had remained still, yet somewhere deep inside she had hoped that this was a false truth, that Ayla was still alive. She set the torch in its holder before taking her seat beside her friend.

"I do not wish to leave you but Arlen insists that we return home to Mirkwood. He says it is our duty to tell our king that you are now gone." Kwenthrith said, feeling her emotions beginning to get the better of her as tears stung her eyes. "Please…give me a sign." she whispered with grief as she reached out for Ayla's frozen hand. She paused and looked at her hand on Ayla's, expecting a stiff limb but instead felt soft flesh. Standing she looked down at Ayla's face, her sharp sight able to see the faintest of color in her cheeks. Her eyes immediately went to the wound in her chest, pulling back the cloth and gasped in shock. The wound was gone and in its wake was a pink line.

Kwenthrith pressed her ear over the scar, her heart giving a jolt as she heard the slow, weak beat of Ayla's heart. "By the light of Valor…" she said softly as she moved her head to hover over Ayla's, her hands cradling her face. She touched her forehead to Ayla's. "My beloved friend, you truly are touched by the Valor. I will await for you to open your eyes, no matter how long."