Of Two Minds – The Tale of Ashan

A Short Story Series by Novem's Natural Roll


Chapter 2: The Face of Adversity

Takes Place: 4692 AR


Second Draft


Things are worse than I thought. While much of the exposed hole in the girl's stomach has blackened with coagulated blood, it has also festered from a combination of filth and lack of treatment. It's still oozing blood, and the obvious signs of an infection have developed. The girl's face is as pale as death, but even a hand above it can feel the heat of a raging fever. The uninjured skin around the puncture has developed a pattern of red streaks and a yellow-green abscess has formed inside. It might be even worse than that… but I don't let it get to me.

I'm relaxed now, focused. The context of the situation has disappeared from my mind and I've tuned out all of the disruptive emotions. The only things dominating my mind are my training and my technique; the only voice I can hear inside is that of Miss Minako's. Recollections of her calm and precise explanations echo through my skull, her constant repetitions of the same explanations forming into a perfect script I can recall word for word… like I'm listening to her speak rather than accessing a memory. This is just as she'd intended, so I would be ready when the time came.

And I am ready. Her lessons are so unconscious I don't need to think about them. I can focus on what I'm supposed to do instead. I bounce off of that voice with my own analysis of the injuries, muttering the steps I'd learned to treat each of them under my breath and triple-checking them against my mental notes as I'd been taught. There are no mistakes, because any mistake that can be avoided is one more danger to the patient removed. My hand and mind are both steady as I roll out a cloth and place my scalpel down onto it while examining the wound further… I'd been hoping it wouldn't be serious enough for me to need the cutting tool, but I don't have time to be disappointed that I do.

"I'm going to need you to hold her still." I say. Whereas my voice before had been anxious and hesitant, now my voice sounds as it never has before. Calm, precise, authoritative. As I take the bottle of alcohol that I'd given him, place it onto the shelf, and gesture him to cover the wound with the alcohol pad, I continue. The pad causes her to groan and struggle a bit, but he holds her steady with a hand on her shoulder. "A lot of the things I'm about to do are going to hurt her. Bad." As I'm talking, I grab my scalpel and start cutting the fur off my fingers and onto the floor. I can't risk any of my loose fur getting stuck in her wound, or they could cause problems down the line. I don't stop talking even as I shave. "Even unconscious, she's going to react badly… screaming, shaking… the works. I've never done this before so it's inevitable that I will make mistakes that I will then need to correct and repair, which only makes this even more dangerous. If you can't keep her completely still through all of this… it'll worsen the damage and she might die on the spot." Finished shaving, I clean off the scalpel with a cloth and splash it with a bit of alcohol again just in-case. Looking up at Mister Cavalane, I say, "Even if it'll bruise, you need to keep her still. Do you understand?"

He nods enthusiastically, and looks over to Sina.

"Hey, get up on the head of this table and buckle down her shoulders and arms. I'll keep her lower half stable."

The Halfling woman knows how serious the situation is and finds what resolve she has left after the terrible day she's had. She follows orders, clambering up onto the table. Not removing his hand from the pad, Mister Cavalane gently lifts Melanie's arms and proffers them to Sina. Using her knees and hands, Sina establishes a fierce grip onto Melanie's shoulders, arms, and neck… holding the girl down with all the weight and strength in her body. I nod in satisfaction.

"Okay, good. Mister Cavalane, you'll need to move to the bottom part of the table. Hold onto her waist, but be careful not to get too close to the wound. I'll keep pressure on the pad until I start the surgery."

"Got it."

We trade places on the pad as he moves around to the bottom of the table. His long Elven arms and height are luckily perfect for holding onto the girl's midsection while using his elbows to pin her legs in place.

"Everyone take a deep breath, this isn't going to be pretty."

They do as I instructed. I don't, there's no need. Instead, I remove the pad and douse the entire wound in alcohol before placing it back on. Melanie screeches in agony as the blood mixes with the clear liquid and sizzles. She tries to struggle, but my assistant's grips hold her tightly in place. I don't get distracted. Before I can start cutting, I need to ascertain the true depth of the wound, and there's only one way to do that. But first I need to try and do what I can for the pain. Grabbing my bowl and pestle, I quickly mush up a mixture.

The girl's completely unconscious, so there's no way to make her swallow the medicine… and it'd be too slow to get into her bloodstream if I did. Instead, I swallow all of the saliva in my mouth, and then coat a few of my sharp teeth with the medicine. Finding a vein on her leg, I bite, careful not to sink in more teeth than necessary. My fangs – thin, unlike my claws - easily penetrate into her skin and inject the mixture I've made. I'm careful to keep the bite only deep enough to get my teeth into the vein where it could wash the medicine into her blood. This isn't sanitary, but without syringes it's the best I've got. Once I'm sure I've gotten as much of the medicine into her blood as I'm going to, I quick rinse out my mouth with water to avoid swallowing any of the medicine myself, then I mush up another herbal mixture to coat the wound I'd just created… sealing it closed. Mister Cavalane watches this whole process with a gaping mouth, but ultimately decides not to interrupt. I appreciate that, because I can't be distracted for this next part. The hard part.

I remove the alcohol pad again and, with little hesitation, stuff my freshly furless fingers inside… retracting my claws and focusing closely on the sensations I feel.

I haven't done this before, so it's a bit hard to tell what I'm looking for. But I think very closely on the diagrams of the inside of the body that Miss Minako had showed me and made me memorize. I know that Kitsune and Half-Elf biology is different, but I'm hopeful that at least this part is similar. I'm happy to know it is… as a bit of exploration lets me map the layout a bit, and tell that something is out of place. A cut on a vital organ, made by an arrowhead that had been left inside the wound.

Luckily, that seems to be the only internal damage despite the depth of the puncture… still, I'll need to repair it. First though, I need to remove the arrowhead.

It doesn't go smoothly. As I start to remove my fingers and the metal blade, I see that my compatriots are struggling to keep Melanie still. I try my best to plot out a route to extract the arrowhead that will cause minimum damage, but I don't have enough experience to recognize how exactly it's going to pass across flesh or how hard it actually needs to graze across something to make a cut. I make many mistakes, and she suffers the resulting pain. Pulling it past the abscess is the most difficult part. She whimpers as I angle it sideways and slide it through the small hole, creating a slight cut both across the surface of the abscess and her other flesh.

Fortunately… the tearing isn't audible above her screams. I dispose of the blood-covered metal by simply dropping it to the ground and moving on. I can only hope that not too many splinters had gotten stuck inside, as there was no way for me to remove them. I have to keep my focus on what I can do for my patient. Problem is, she isn't doing well.

My touch and the blade had caused pus to start oozing from the abscess. It's an unpleasant sight, but it doesn't give me pause. I need to get it out of the way or she's going to die a long and painful death from infection, just as all the signs I'd spotted earlier suggested. Luckily, the herbal mixture I'd injected her with using my teeth is starting to kick in and her struggling is getting a bit less heated. It's essentially a type of paralytic nerve toxin, so this effect is exactly what I'd been aiming for. Miss Minako said the hunters liked to use it on their weapons, but we use it to keep our uncooperative patients still lest they cause further harm to themselves. That's going to be important for this.

Taking up my scalpel, I carefully and deliberately aim it at the damage I'd already done to the abscess. Using it as a starting point, I stab my blade in and start dragging it across. I don't rush it, but I'm sure to be quick about it. No reason to make her suffer longer than necessary… but she does suffer. All of the muscles in her body tighten as she tries to shake about with the pain, but my compatriots are ready for it. They do show hesitation at the disgusting sight and stench of the pus leaking from the abscess, but their grips don't waver in the slightest.

Meanwhile, I don't hesitate or waver at all. I quickly grab a bottle of water and wash the disgusting goop out of the wound as I accelerate the draining with some squeezing. Usually my stomach would be weak enough to cringe at this as much as they are, but a combination of anti-nausea training by Miss Minako's mixtures and the current laser focus of my mind keeps things going well.

With the abscess completely drained, I now have a better view of my deeper target: the cut that had been made to her stomach, a vital organ. The space is far too tight to do the stitching that's needed in a usual way, so I instead reach back in with my fingers. This time, I don't retract my claws. Instead, I poke holes in the lining of all the cuts the arrowhead had made, causing no small degree of whimpering and further bleeding. I quickly follow up on this by weaving a bunch of suturing threads through these holes in secure patterns before tying them off. I'd trained to be able to do this with one hand, or this method of treatment would've been impossible.

Removing my hand from the wound after fixing the last cut though, I see that we have bigger problems. The girl is getting faint… more faint than the toxin I'd administered was supposed to make her. She'd lost too much blood, and while I know there are ways to treat that with blood transfusions… we don't have the tools here to make the necessary equipment. No tubes and no syringes. The scalpel had been hard enough for what qualifies as our production capacity. And the only other way to treat such blood loss is magic. Something none of us present can use. But… how else was I to save this girl…?

I place the pad back on the wound and consider my alternatives. There is a medicine I can make that will stimulate the production of more blood, but I'd need her to be able to ingest fluids. In her condition, that's not happening. Not unless…

One of Desna's domains is dreams, maybe I could get Desna to help me make her drink something…? I facepalm with my free hand and grit my teeth. It's a stupid idea. I never pray to her, not like Miss Minako does. I just do what I think Desna will like and hope that's enough. But… what other choice do I have but to ask?

I ball my fist against my forehead and lean forward. Before I can get up the gumption to start my prayer, a surprise interrupts.

"What…?"

Sina mutters the question in confusion. I don't have enough time to worry about this distraction, I try to refocus on what I'm going to pray about. Before I can…

"What kind of butterfly is that?" Mister Cavalane wonders, clearly impressed. I'm just annoyed. Breaking my praying stance, I look up to complain.

"Come on guys, I'm trying- Wait, butterfly?" As I'm about to object to their distractions, I remember that Desna's symbol is a butterfly. Following their eyes, I find that one has landed on Melanie's face. It's a very unusual butterfly too, wings shining with golden light. Suddenly I hear a voice in my head that really rattles me, makes my fur stand on end. It's the beautiful and melodious voice of a woman I've never heard before. It's so impactful it almost feels like I can hear it reverberating in my ears, yet also so ethereal it feels like a gust of wind passing through my body. I shake with the chill.

Dear child, do not abandon your principles… We will aid you.

"Wh-Wha…?" I wonder aloud in a bit of shock.

"What's wrong?" Cavalane wonders, looking to me. Tension is clearly threatening to burst his façade, even with the temporary distraction.

"Should I get rid of it?" Sina asks, giving a sideways glance both to me and the butterfly in turn.

"N-No. I'm pretty sure Desna just spoke to me, is all." I tell them. Suddenly, Cavalane's face lights up.

"The support of a goddess, hm? If you're a priest, maybe you can use her power to heal her wounds!"

"No, I'm not- !" I sigh. "I've never even said a single prayer of my own free will… but I think that's how she likes it. And I think she's going to help me."

Cavalane nods as I stand, not understanding but realizing this isn't the time to ask what I mean.

Fine, I won't abandon my principles then and pray. I think as I dig into my bag for ingredients. Hopefully you'll consider me saving this girl as my thanks!

With that thought in mind, I quickly get to work mixing the medicine. First I clean my bowl out, then I crush up the herbs I need that I still have left, then I mix the medicine. Finally, I go to Melanie's head… and I reach out the bowl towards her mouth, ever so hopeful that this will actually work. Shockingly, Melanie opens her eyes. They're empty and unfocused, but they scrunch together with a loving familiarity. It's almost like when my little sister has had a nightmare and either I or my parents have come to comfort her.

"I had a scary dream, daddy…" She mumbles. My jaw hangs open for a moment, but I quickly play into the bit.

"It's okay. You'll be okay now. I just need you to drink this and you'll be fine."

"Oh, okay… but is it nasty?"

Just the type of question a girl her age would ask. I smile warmly.

"Yeah, a little bit. But you'll feel better afterwards."

"Okay…"

I push the bowl to her lips, and she drinks every drop. She spits a bit at the taste, but swallows whatever rises back up. Instinctively, I place a gentle hand on her head. The butterfly is still there on her face and flies off as I do so. I don't keep watch on it. My focus is on my patient, as I'd been taught. When suffering a day as devastating as this, they need assurance… hope. To survive it, physically and mentally.

"Good job…" I mutter, gently stroking the side of her face and lifting the firey red locks from over her eyes.

"Thanks daddy… It was nasty, but you're right… I do feel better…"

With that, she drifts off to sleep. Her face is growing redder by the second, indicating the medicine I'd made is kicking in even faster than it's supposed to. But that just means I can get right back to work finishing with my task. When I turn around though, I see that the butterfly has landed over the pad. Suddenly it shines a bright, blinding gold… forcing us to close our eyes. When we open them again, the butterfly is gone, and removing the pad reveals that the bleeding had completely stopped and the wound has started pulling itself shut. With that, all I have left to do is stitch the wound shut, and so that's what I do.

Still a little taken aback by these events, I look at Melanie's face. It's still a bit pained… but she's begun to settle down, and a hand over her forehead also reveals that her fever had started to calm. I nod at my two assistants.

"Looks like… she'll be okay."

They both stumble backwards as the tension in their hearts fades. For my part, all of my emotions rush back as I collapse backwards onto the ground. I want to cry… in joy, relief… but I hold it in. I just put my hands on my face and try to control my breathing from accelerating.

"Thank the goddesses…" Mister Cavalane mutters from his seat in the corner. "But far more than them, thank you Ashan. Thank you. You did good, kid. You did good."

"Th-Thanks… and you're welcome…" I mutter back. I don't really have the physical or emotional strength left to give a more full-hearted response. I've been totally drained. I want to sleep. But I know I can't, there's still things to do. Considering that, I pick up the arrowhead from the ground next to me and scrape away the red flakes of dried blood with my claws. I can't completely erase the stains, but I reveal the design beneath… hoping to find a clue as to who had attacked these people. Horror grows in my heart as I realize that the design seems to be a familiar one. "I… I need to go clean up, and think. I'm also going to go check on how things are going with what the adults plans are. I'll be back later to check on how she's doing."

I race to stuff my things back into my back in preparation to leave. As I do, Sina taps me and I look at her. She's smiling.

"Sorry for calling you weird. That was just the bitterness talking, but this… you got me my hope back." She says. "In reality, I think that quirk of yours is really cute and adorable. Like you're just a big puppy."

I look away in shame and embarrassment, hopeful she won't catch sight of the panic growing in my eyes. I tightly clutch the arrowhead in my hand, cutting my palm against the edge.

"Th-Thanks…" I mutter that distantly, then I leave as quickly as I can.


Down by the river I sink my black, blood-soaked hands into the water along with the arrowhead. Keeping it between the thumb and forefinger of each hand, I try to make sure the dulled iron stays visible beneath the surface of the water. At first, it's occluded by the cloud of blood that it washes away from the metal and the cut on my hand... but soon, it reveals itself. Removing the bladed triangle from the soak, I face the truth I'd feared. The arrow's design is one of those used by my own tribe. My hands shake and it's everything to stop myself from dropping this clue back into the water. Instead I jam it into my pack, then proceed to splash my face. As the drips fall to create ripples which distort my murky reflection below, I try to consider what this discovery means. I can only come to one conclusion.

Someone must've been able to steal from the hunter's hut right beneath our noses… I wonder what else they've taken?

Either way, I know I need to tell the elders. After all, if we don't do anything about the group that stole these... we'd be responsible for what they did next. I run at a mad dash back to the elder's hut. The children have dispersed and the noise has settled, but I can hear from outside that there's still a meeting ongoing with at least a few of the adults. That's good, it means I can tell them what I found. Just as I'm about to step inside though, I hear a familiar voice saying an unthinkable thing and I freeze. It's Miss Minako's voice, I'm sure of it… she'd made me close my eyes and listen to her enough times that I'd recognize her speech anywhere. But the thing she's saying, it makes no sense.

"… so desire, I can carry out… execution painlessly…"

She… she'd never carry out an execution, right? I must be hearing her wrong. But still... they aren't still on the idea of killing them are they? It's been hours, there's no way.

But there is. I push my ear tightly to the door, so I can hear the conversation more exactly. The next person to speak is Mister Shiro, I'm pretty sure.

"Hm… thank you for volunteering to dispense the outsider's penalty for coming here Minako, we will certainly keep it in mind. If execution is indeed our path, then painless is definitely the way I'd prefer. Especially seeing as they have a child."

"Of course Elder Shiro. Rather than wasting our resources on caring for them long term, we can deal with them quickly and efficiently. While usually I'd be in favor of killing them normally to save the herbs, I think that would be too hard on Ashan. As long as we can do it my way, I still support execution."

Wh-What? Why, Miss Minako? Why would you ever…!?

Hearing the person who'd taught me the fundamental importance of protecting life so flippantly suggest tossing it away... it breaks something, deep inside me. I sag against the door, which luckily doesn't open inward as I drift to my knees. That's when I hear something even worse, another familiar voice that makes me press my ear even more tightly to the door.

"I say we don't even do that much. Those herbs are valuable and I don't want to risk damaging our weapons either, not any more than we already have. Why don't we just let them rot until they die on their own? It's what their kind would've done to us at one time."

I can't quite pick out who said that… just that it's another woman, but I know it's someone close to me from her tenor. When Miss Minako next speaks, she clinches exactly who it is.

"That would be… very difficult on your son. He cares a lot about life, and not just because I taught him..."

Your son? Cares a lot about life? They're talking about me. It's my mom.

"Yeah, I know... he's never been a normal kid, my baby..." My mom's voice is weary as she says that, but you can almost hear her light up as she continues. I can see the smile spread on her face in my mind's eyes from the pick up in her tone. "My smallest daughter - Rin - she explained it to me once. That the reason he was so distant and quiet wasn't because he didn't care, but because he did but didn't know how to say it. So he was scared that getting close to others might hurt them." Now, her voice grows dark. "I don't know where I taught him wrong that this empathy of his extends to those monsters though. Didn't he listen at all...?" She sighs, and I hear the shifting of feet.

"There, there..." It's my father, I think. "...we taught our son everything right, but he's still just a child. He's too pure... too naive, to truly understand the suffering our ancestors went through. He has no context for the pain we taught him of."

I feel my heart freeze in my chest, and then slowly sink. I don't understand how they could believe that. Do they know nothing about me at all...? I'd seen death and pain, studied it. Not as a healer maybe - and not on conscious, sapient beings like us until recently - but on animals. The friends I'd found in the forest... the one's I didn't have to worry about misunderstanding me. Not like my parents clearly had. I feel angry, disappointed. I dig my claws deep into the door as my emotions roil and throttle my heart around the inside of my chest.

"Well, I'm not sure about that... You see, your son has forged a strong connection with nature." Miss Minako comments, steadying me. She at least understands. "By that, I mean that he doesn't see the divisions between creatures the way we do. Not clearly, at least. As a result, he values the lives of all living creatures roughly equally. So by killing the outsiders, we already putting him through a lot. But if we submit them to pain, suffering? And we make him watch that? It would destroy him." But if she understands that, why would she...? "This isn't to say I would ever allow them to live or let them go to simply protect him, however. Our home is so much more important to protect than our lives, it's why I stay and study so hard even though my skills are demanded so little. As long as they breathe, they are a threat to us... and what they put my ancestors through, I hate them just as much as you do. If I could, I'd find anything I could to put them through the same thing our ancestors ensured we'd never forget. But at the same time, doing that to them would also hurt this village. Because Ashan is essential to its future."

"Then we throw them in the hole with the others our village has dealt with and tell him we let them leave. They'll rot to death just as so many of our people have, and everybody will forget about them easily enough – Ashan included – and we can move on with our lives."

Miss Minako sighs.

"I suppose that will work. It'll be tough to lie to him, he's so kind… but I realize we don't have a lot of options."

I've heard enough. I scramble back from the door, my breathing accelerating as hearing this cruelty forces me to consider something I hadn't before. Something I'd been refusing to consider. Digging the arrowhead out of my pack and looking at it, I'm forced to consider something awful. Maybe no one had stolen this arrowhead.

I have to know, and I know there's only one way to find out. It's not by asking them. I'd just seen that they were perfectly willing to not just hide the truth… but outright lie to me. So the truth is something I need to ascertain for myself. I stuff the arrowhead back in my pack, swing it over my back, and break off into a run. While the trees are difficult to navigate at my full size, I'm not thinking well enough to shift. I don't stop my mad dash until I reach the site of the attack, where the rotting corpses of the dead outsiders still remain. Though my lungs cry out for relief and my body screams at me to stop, I force it over to the man on the road... the one who'd been shot in the back. I need to examine that arrow. I need to see it's fletching, and know that it wasn't one of our hunters who shot the arrow… to see that it wasn't one of the unique fletchings all of our hunters custom made for their own arrows. I needed to see that someone had stole the arrows, that they'd outfitted their own foreign fletching onto them. I needed to know that we hadn't done this.

I focus my eyes, piercing the darkness as easily as I would in any lit environment… and I see exactly what I was hoping not to see. The disappointment and horror of reality. A hopeless discovery that drops me to my knees.

The fletching on the arrow is flashy; a red and blue swirl I'd seen him work on for hours to perfect, using the feathers from the tiny birds he'd felled to show off just how good of a shot he was. The fletching on the arrow… It's Haya's. It's the fletching of my own older brother. The arrow that had been stuck into this man's back, the weapon that had been fired to kill a fleeing and injured man… it had been him.

I can only scream as I stare into the face of this adverse truth... that we were the monsters who'd done this all along.