There Was an Attempt

A/N: So, Blue Flaming Wings asked for a look-see into some of my original work that's lying around abandoned and dead, instead of commissioning something new. Here's my attempt at an Isekai, which really went on longer than it should have, when I ought to have scrapped it a 1000 words in, like I do for most of my addled ideas.

For any writers out there, here's a little piece of advice: fail fast. Don't drag out a project that you're sure won't work out. Fail, walk forward, and start again.

I must sincerely profess that another could have done better in my place. I do not use that phrase lightly. I am as able any doctor, perhaps more so given the multitudes of lives I’d saved, however there are many individuals better suited for the path I’d tread. Any graduate of the military sciences would have fared better than I. It was not a matter of knowledge. No, I had that in spades given my fortune of being reborn, but of the nature of the knowledge I had.

Mine was that of tending to the human body. Over the maimed and injured, I administered medicines, hewed away infections, and ensured men returned home after battle. I will not play coy. I am proud of my accomplishments in my profession. I’d saved lives while cannon shot upturned soil all around my tent. The trials I endured, the lives I saved, would be less than their true worth if I ignored the challenges that I overcame. 

However, neither will I pretend that I am the finest individual for any station due to my accomplishments. 

By all means, I did put my education to good use, but I will not bind myself to that illusion that I did nearly as well as those with martial leanings. A mere officer would’ve been a more capable commander in battle. A commander of a regiment may have stopped several wars. Undoubtedly, a general could have stopped several conflicts before they began. Should Ulysses Grant himself been in my place, I am sure that the man would have forced peace upon the whole world with nary a single drop blood spilled. 

As for myself, I have only managed what I have managed. 

That is to say, very little compared to what my aforementioned exemplars could have done in my place. 

First and foremost, I do not mean to lay the blame for the results of my actions upon another. The circumstances of my rebirth into a world of fantastical creatures and races is still unknown to me. I do not mean to say that God, should this be His work, is to blame for my inadequacies as an individual. Should this be part of His grand plans, I can only profess my own weakness and lacking talent as the cause of my shortcomings. 

Though another could have done better, that is no excuse for my mediocrity. 

Many a village could have gone unburnt. More alliances could’ve been forged between my people and others rather than wholesale slaughter. Entire kingdoms and royal lineages of great power ought to have survived. Hundreds of thousands could have lived. Many of my friends and foes should be living pleasant lives. Hundreds of shrines, temples, and places of worship could have gone unbroken. 

However, because of my failings, that is not the case. 

Should one present all of those who perished due to my actions, I am sure a mountain of bodies would be before me. Standing in its shadow, I would have to crane my head upward to see the very top of my towering pile of corpses my failings created.  Another could have done better in my stead. I would admit that to all who will ask me. However, I have found myself in the curious position of being venerated for the barbarism and cruelty I inflicted for the victory which birthed the ruinous mountain of corpses.

That is why I write this book here. 

I have all the reason to believe that I shall be vilified in the future. Though I have destroyed dissent, brought peace, and ushered in many advancements for the common folk, the virtues I’ve managed practice are outweighed by the sins I’ve commited. 

Historians shall come to call my birth lamentable. They shall decree my ascendance to power as horrifying. Any who share my blood and that of my people shall be stained with a mark that all others shall judge them by. Through my actions, I have consigned my future children to hatred and vilification, all for the sake of peace in my time.

I can only pray and hope that this memoire will be found and that dark mark be erased from my people and placed wholly upon me.

Allow me to begin with those misfortunate enough to have brought me into this world.

The Tolst were but mere migrants who followed a set of teachings and traditions that bound them to me shortly after my birth. They tended to vast herds of horses, guiding and following the herds through valleys and plains throughout the seasons, and hardly wanted for anything. They lived in sturdy tents, drank mare’s milk and honey, and gathered around a single flame in the evening for companionship. The elders told tales to children while the able-bodied tended to food. 

None of their legends and stories ought to have created a being such as myself. The whole of my actions lies entirely upon my shoulders.  

The woman I’d been born to, the man who’d fathered me, were honest folk who led simple, good lives just as the rest of the tribe did. The two practiced tolerance, kindness, and gentleness to those of the tribe. When danger appeared, whether in the form of monster or another tribe, they preferred to flee. 

Once, my father had said to me: family is all, safety is all. 

They are not the vile horde who rides upon demons that tramples children underfoot. The Tolst do not drink the blood of those freshly slain. Villages are not burnt as peace is seen as anathema. Nor are they disgusting cretins who steal away women, defile them, and wrap them in their former husband’s skin.

I have heard many tales spun of the Tolst that are simply wrong, along with all others who chose to ally with me instead of choosing war, and I cannot allow them to transcend into time immemorial. 

So, to whomever reads this fool’s book, I implore you to learn of the Tolst and how fate forced them to harbor a being such as myself. 

One must choose between pleasure and profession. 

I believe that those words came from either my grandfather or my father.

Though my family was not of grand stature, neither were we of the baser classes. My father dreamt of our family becoming landed gentry. The acquisition of land, building of tenements, and establishment of stable income was his top priority. 

I gladly supported his dream when I began my own professional career. Though I was the second son, with my fate being that of a small fortune instead of all my family’s properties, my elder brother was a good, honest man with an honest sense of business. We were close brothers. I had little to fear from him. There was no reason for me to fret.

I was sure that if I or my family needed aid in my future, he’d give it to me freely. So, with that thought in mind, I strode out into the world with the intent to further my family’s future security. Soon enough, over the course of a decade, our work together bore fruit. Our father, on his deathbed, learned that his family was secure and stable.

Knowing that gave me peace, and though my brother bid me to stay, wanderlust overtook me. 

I do not recall how I died, but I am sure it occurred due to my decision to head westward. Perhaps, I’d caught some illness. It is entirely possible that I found myself on the wrong end of a robber’s gun. A whole motley of reasons could have led to my death and rebirth, but they are all due to my decision to revel in being unfettered after my accomplishments. 

Thus, the moment I’d chosen pleasure over profession was the cause of my death. 

I reasoned that, in my new life, I would serve myself best by following the path that rewarded me rather than see me killed. 

So, as the other children of the Tolst tribe played, learned songs, and ran about the encampment, I joined the elders and women in tending to the tribe’s flock. 

Doubtlessly, I was considered a strange child for choosing labor instead of entertainment, but that’s not to say I was found freakish or strange. Rather, I was seen as a helpful curiosity. At first my mother had been hesitant to bring me along, but soon enough she brought me along without question. While the other children found friendships with one another, I found myself becoming close compatriots to the more elder individuals of the tribe.

Undoubtedly, I was a child that was not normal, but the Tolst loved me nonetheless. Though I was strange, spoke before children older than myself, and learned too quickly, they saw me as one of their own. 

So, as those my age played, I rode.

The horses of the plain were of good stock meant more for sturdiness than speed. In truth, they were not the well-bred animals that I was accustomed to. They seemed more like draft animals made lean. However, a horse remained a horse and I was confident in my equestrianism. Though I was a small child once more, one did not forget how to properly treat a large, imposing animal more than thrice one’s own weight.

While hunting, tracking, and herding was beyond me due to my age, there was no denying that I could ride through the Plains well. 

Better than my father wanted me to.

“Alhambra, I told you to stay close!” My new father was a stocky man with a barrel chest. A large nose dominated his features, along with a large brow, and his skin was a hardy tan from many days spent beneath the sun. As winter was on the horizon, he wore clothes lined with furs and a hat made in the same manner. We both wore tunics of bright blue, sewn by my mother and his wife, as to easily find one another. “My child, you cannot go so far and so quickly! We may be close to the camp, but many dangers lurk in the shadows!”

“Don’t worry, father, I stopped here to wait for you.” My cheek unbecoming of a gentleman, but expected of a child. I’d considered speaking calmly, assuredly, and with the whole of my knowledge, but I would’ve feared a boy who spoke like a man. Naturally, I chose otherwise. “I won’t leave you behind, I promise!”

“You must reign in your spirits, my child. Riding alone must be done with caution. The day will come when you will ride alone.” Hassan set his horse close to my own. He wound his gloved hands through my hair and pulled my hat back onto my head. He did the same for the coverings of my face. “It will come sooner if I am content with your caution. Should you continue to act as you do, it’ll be a decade before I allow you do such a thing.”

“A decade just riding without care? That’s no punishment, father!” My laughter drew a smile from Hassan’s lips. His eyes wandered over my form, looking for any error in my technique, but I felt no trepidation at his appraisal. I knew that I was keeping to his teachings regarding riding. “That sounds amazing! I can go anywhere as long as you’re with me!”

“Your mother would be very displeased with me if I allowed you to do that, my child. So, be kind to your father and learn to be cautious quickly.” I could not help but approve of his thoughts. As strange and different the Tolst might be, my father was still a good man to be so considerate of his spouse. His hand, large and callused, lightly pressed upon my back as if urging me onward. “But, I suppose my child is right. A father riding alongside his son truly isn’t a punishment when the child wishes to go wherever he wishes.” 

I will be the first to admit my relations with Hassan and Altan was strange. Was it possible not to be? I am a man grown in the body of s child. Eight years of body, but nearly four decades in mind. I could have been the perfect, obedient child, but that simply felt wrong to my sensibilities. Neither, of course, could I deprive a pair of parents of a child by simply acting as myself. I settled on an a balance of the two, like teetering on the edge of a knife, I chose to be strange child, but a child nonetheless.

Hassan’s hand found its way to my shoulder. The man’s face was wound in worry. Disquieted, his eyes searched me for a truth that I could not allow him to find. 

“Ah, my apologies, father.” I gave him a nod. A smile would have fared better, but I didn’t wish to remove the covering upon my face. The plains were dry and the air filled with detritus. Indeed, that was why I liked to cover my face at all hours. “I was merely at a loss where to go next. There’s so many places to go each time we stop!”

“I envy the challenge you face, my child. To be at a loss for having too many choices is a problem a chieftain ought to have!” Hassan laughed at his own words. Turning away from me, he nudged his horse ahead of my own. He looked upon the lands before us with an experienced gaze. “Hmmm, if your father’s memory’s proves correct, there ought to be a stream nearby.” He stirred his reigns slightly and his beast began to trot forward. “We can spend the day catching fish for the village. Your mother and the others will be very pleased if we do.”

“That sounds amazing, father!” My jubilation was not entirely feigned. The nomadic nature of the horse herds, and the Tolst because of them, ensured a meagre diet. Mares milk, horse flesh, and foraged berries and nuts made up the most of our food. Very rarely, we had mutton, as sheep’s wool was of greater import than a tender lamb chop. Initially, I’d fretted over the strange foods, but now I could not deny the efficacy of the diet. I am sure that I am stronger and more able of body now than at the same age my previous life. I was most certainly not lacking in exercise. Still, the thought of eating fish was very appealing to me. Spices or no, the same foods again and again was sorely good for palate. “Let’s fill our baskets with dozens of fish!”

“Should we be so lucky, I’ll be sure to cure a few so we might enjoy it in the winter.” Ah, smoked trout! What a delicacy! In my eight years with the Tolst, I’d only managed to consume a single bite of the amazing food! I had every reason to catch as many fish as possible! “You seem overjoyed to hear that, my child.”

“Ah.” Had I been? Ah, how unbecoming of me. I suppose a parent can see their child’s glee despite the coverings upon their face. I cleared my throat and urged my horse onward to reach my father’s side. Mustering a voice completely lacking in glee, I managed to speak to my father. “It must be a trick of the sun, father. I am perfectly calm.”

“You may be able to hide behind your words, my child, but a father knows when their child is happy.” Once again, Hassan laughed. There a measure of embarrassment coursed through my veins. However, I had much practice in bottling away that particular emotion. A man must in order to remain silent while being nursed and lacking control over his bowels as a babe. “Come. Let us see who gets there first. I’ll allow you to go as swiftly as you wish. After all, the sooner we arrive the more of your favorite treat you’ll receive.”

Being the cultured, educated gentleman I was, I deigned to not give a retort to Hassan’s teasing. Not only would it have been unbecoming of me to fall to his ploys by retorting, but I would most assuredly have proven myself disobedient if I did. A child should not question their parents. They are to honor them and heed their wisdom. Naturally, the finest course of action was simply do as my father instructed, and have my mount surge forward with a cracking of my reins and a shake of my spurs. 

I did not flee, I merely indulged in the youthful joy of charging onward and upward.

Truly, that is the case.

After all, if it were not, I would’ve been incapable of losing myself to the joys of equestrianism.

Doubtlessly, the Tolst were a people well suited to the lands they traveled. The Golden Plains was an immense land that stretched from horizon to horizon. A man could have walked for months and months without reaching one end of the plain to another. Life was plentiful upon the plains as well. Wild herds of horses, goats, and sheep roamed about. Smaller game, such as hares, were easily found and caught by those of the tribe who kept birds of prey as hunting companions. 

The land was beautiful, abundant, and gracious. Though I certainly missed certain aspects of my former life, I was content with the life I’d been reborn into. Some would have considered it Paradise. There is no need to farm, only to work with your fellows, and the land shall feed you. It was peaceful, with plenty for all, and both death and disease only came upon the elderly. 

Still, even without those grand improvements, I would have considered my new life better simply for the opportunity to ride across the Golden Plains. 

The sun bore down upon me as I rode, but the winds were cool and gentle. The stench of leather and fur reached my nose, yet so did that of upturned soil and flowers. Though my body ached lightly from riding and calluses formed upon my hands, my eyes looked upon an eternal canvas of golden strands dotted with jewels of amethysts, sapphires, and ribues. It was a simple pleasure, but that made it all the more incredible. Every day, I awoke, left my tent, and looked upon scenery which would drive most painters delirious. 

So, I did not at all expect to find a battlefield upon the brook.

An ordinary child would’ve been shaken by the sight of the corpses, but my first instinct was to rush forward. As I made my way, while I child may have been frozen in shock, I took stock of the battleground. There were twenty heads clad in helms. Those were the finest measure of numbers in a battle, especially when concerning blades. 

Then, once I was sure of the number of people, I took stock of injuries. 

Helm crushed, brain is shot. Dead.

Armored torso pierced, heart punctured. Dead.

Leg and arm gone, blood loss. Dead. 

Halved. Dead.

With my eyes alone, I discounted eleven to be beyond my ability to save or dead. 

When my feet hit the ground from my horse, I was upon the nine upon the ground who I thought I could save.

I removed helms first, as I knew not how to remove armor, and took stock. Five were no longer breathing. One stared wordlessly upward, even as breath escaped his lips, and I found the back of his helm broken and shattered. Intense shock. The soul was gone, but the body still breathed. Easily beyond my ability. I considered trying to aid him, but chose to simply cover his head once more. Three left. 

My father crested the hill as I was reaching for them. 

“Alhambra, get away from there!” At Hassan’s voice, I hesitated. The man looked upon his child wading into a battlefield covered with blood while touching corpses. There was anger and wroth in his voice. A good father would feel such emotion when seeing his son amongst the dead and injured. I regarded my status as his child, then my status as a doctor, and made my choice. I reached for the next body who could be alive. “Alhambra, I bid you to stop immediately!” 

My father was a fine rider, but he could not reach me before I took stock of the final three. 

If all three were dead, so be it. 

However, if even one was alive, I would ensure they lived. 

The first of the triad was gone, a single strike through his visor ending his life, and the second suffered the same fate. Two impeccable and skilled strikes killed the two of them. I barely thought about how they were arrayed side-by-side, facing the last body, as I reached for last of the three. 

Before my hand could reach the helm, a gauntleted hand took hold my wrist, dragged me upward, and I found myself staring into a vibrant gaze that put emeralds to shame. 

A roar reached my ears, then the clashing of steel, and my father was holding half a blade in his hand several paces behind the being who held me up.

“Let go of my child!” Hassan roared as he stood upon a field of corpses. I didn’t know how, but a cut had appeared upon his brow due to the clash. Still, he stood readily with his teeth fiercely grit. “Unhand him lest you wish to suffer for all the days and nights to come!” The threat of torture and pain left my father’s mouth with ease. He truly believed I was in danger and wished me safe. “The Tolst will not stand for this transgression no matter the treaties which bind us to our plains, knight!”

When the being my father referred to as a knight—warrior beholden to a land in Tolst tongue—spoke, it was with an unfamiliar tongue.

Whoever held me did not speak the Tolst tongue, had a blade in their free hand, and was a complete enigma to both me and my father. 

I had many questions that needed to be answered. Hassan recognized the being which held me up. He must know something about the battle that occurred here. However, I could not ask him anything. He was confused and afraid for the life of his son. No father can think clearly in such a situation. Therefore, my only avenue of approach to the situation was with a being who did not understand me, held me at their mercy, and had endured a battle where they were the only one who survived. 

I did not know what to do, as I was limited in knowledge, but there was something I could do. 

I bit off the glove on my hand and ignored my father’s cry of my name at my action.

The knight watched me warily, cautiously, and with every intent to kill. 

However, I persisted.

Reaching out with my bare hand, slowly and surely to ensure I was not seen as a threat, I reached for the shallow cut on the knight’s neck. I was completely aware of the danger I faced. My heart felt as though it were about to burst from my chest. However, I knew better than to be paralyzed with fear, especially with someone injured before me. Even if it were possible that I’d lose my hand, I was sure that if I were successful my situation could be solved without violence. 

The wound was a gash a quarter inch deep. Luckily for the knight, it was an inch away from the artery upon the neck. Superficial, but painful as there was hardly a movement that didn’t involve jostling the neck. I was sure causing it ache would net me a terrible result. However, I persevered, until I felt the wound with my own hands. My eyes had been correct, but feeling the wound allowed me to grasp it to completion, allowing me to clearly grasp it in my mind.

Upon the battlefield on my former life, I’d have tended the wound with only a wash, stitches, and morphine. The man would have been lucky to not succumb to infection in that horrid state. There was little to be had on hand in the medical tents for infection. The chemical agents theorized to be capable of stopping infection were nowhere to be found in our supplies. 

Should I have faced the wound as I took to visit a home, I would have administered a salve composed of boiled win, honey, onions, and garlic that my colleagues disparaged me for using. My grandmother’s tinctures had always seen fit to see wounds heal fully, so I’d taken the laughter at my “recipe for preparing a man for a stew” in stride. 

However, in this new life of mine, I did not need my grandmother’s remedy, morphine, or tools. 

All I needed was my gift. 

The moment my skin touched the bleeding wound, I took hold of the gift lurking within the depths of my being, and forced my thoughts to become reality.

Muscle entwining with muscle. Frayed strands became whole. Miniature vessels of blood, ruptured and incomplete, bound themselves together once more. I willed away all that was not of the body, as I did for myself to keep clean, and finally had skin mend itself over the wound. 

Thus, at my touch, the wound healed. 

It was magic, simple and true, that was entirely mine. I would call it a miracle, but all beings had the same power. The sole difference between myself and others was my understanding. While those of my tribe understood the wind, earth, fire, and water, I knew of the body. Through will and the power within the depths of my being, instead of calling forth the elements, I simply willed the body to mend. 

How could I, as I doctor, ignore such a power? 

Even, if I were lacking in spirit as a child, I could not leave it unstudied and untrained! Not as a doctor who could save lives, nor as a man with an enlightened mind! 

I was sure that my strangeness as a child was ignored by the Tolst for my power as no other could comprehend my attempts to teach them. There were too many gaps in their language for my words to reach them and the cutting and destruction of corpses was a crime. So, as the only being capable of doing so, I made sure to ensure the wounds of those I encountered were healed. Though I was in a strange land, amongst strangers, and without any who shared my history, I could at least do my duty as a doctor with the newfound tools I’ve been given!

Doubly so, when there was someone who I could save before me!

The action was foolish a foolish one. I did not know what lurked behind the mask, the circumstances of the battle, and a myriad of other truths. 

However, I knew that action was necessary in lieu of words. 

So, I healed the knight’s wound and placed my faith in them.

All I could do was hope that the knight would allow me to heal them before their innards burst from the massive cut they had across their stomach.

There was nothing else that I could hope to do.

The tents of the Tolst were meant to be homes. Unlike the simple tents of the Union army, they were astounding creations born wooden lattice and innermost supports, rope, and felt. One of the tents, enough for eight persons or more, was easily carried by a single horse. In the few wagons of the Tolst, pulled by four or more beasts of burden, the parts of ten such structures could be carried. 

Working together, ten members of Tolst can erect two in the span of an hour, whether man or woman. Just as the sun crests the ground to set, work would begin to transform where the tribe stood into the an encampment that stretched from horizon to horizon. Before the sun disappeared and the stars glittered in the sky, a city of tents would be established to hold the whole of the Tolst for the night, with streets in each cardinal direction kept clear so that all may easily traverse through the city of tents. Watchers would be arranged on the outskirts, food would be prepared at the center, and a whole village would simply exist where it had not done so before. 

Then, when the sun arose, work would begin to take it apart and the work would be done in half the time it took to put together. Fast was broken upon horseback, as one watched the herds graze, or while foraging for other foods to fill the larder. The whole day would be spent in such a manner, with a few hunts being conducted for more horses and goats to add to the herd, or for the destruction of fantastical beasts of ill nature. Evening would then arrive with the sun beginning to sink into the horizon and the cycle would begin anew. 

So, as we’d arrived when the sun set, my father and I were met by the watchers. After stating our circumstances, we were immediately led to the chieftain of the Tolst and his gathered advisors. The central tent, the largest and where the ruling elders sat, was always the first to be erected for the purposes of taking stock of the tribe. Thus, the sentries we’d encountered led us to them immediate. 

I knelt upon one knee as the chieftain of the Tolst, Erdene,  looked upon my father and I.

“Hassan, I am glad to see you well.” Erdene’s voice was kind and measured, but it carried a richness and fullness that one expected of a leader. Not only that, but his mere presence exuded comfort and trust. The man was muscled like a Grecian sculpture, with eyes that shone with keenness and intellect, and dark skin unmarred by blisters and scars. He towered over my father. If there had been any part of my mind that sought to reveal magic sham, it had been silenced when I’d first laid my eyes upon the man before me. The man was 125 years of age, but looked like a god come to life. “Are you and your son well? There is blood upon your vestments… and a guest by your side who looks to be fresh from battle.”

“My chieftain, my child and I came upon the sight of a battle a league away from her. It was recent and violence. Fresh blood still stained the river when we arrived.” Hassan spoke with ease to the chieftain, but I took note of the knight to me left. Through the visor, I saw iridescent emeralds look to and fro. They looked upon the guards that lined the chieftain’s kingly tent, but always returned to the man who sat before us on a throne of leather, horse bone, and treated wood. They knelt and were without injury, but trembled nonetheless. “My child entered the battlefield, heedless of the potential danger, and saw fit to save the life of this knight.”

“Ah, young Alhambra, your need to see others well seems to have gotten the best of you once more. Be more considerate of your status in the future, lest our tribe lose your gift.” My head bent in acknowledgement before Erdene’s words even fully reached me. Considering my nature as their sole physician, the measure was extremely lenient. Had I been the lone physician tending to an entire regiment, moving into battle to save a single life would’ve earned me a great deal of reprisal from the leading officer. “Think of those who would go without your gift, before you venture out to the unknown, Alhambra.”

“I understand, my chieftain.” Of course, the only reply which I could utter was that. I could not allow someone I could save die just because of danger. The doctor’s true merit is the extent to which they’ll go to save lives. Even if I came across a diseased individual, one who could transfer their sickness onto me, it would be my duty to try and save them. All I could say was that I would take responsibility of what happen to others if I found myself incapable of helping them. That was all I could do. “I will be more considerate of the future.”

“What a fine answer for a child your age! Not even a single mention of caution! Hassan, you are raising your child well!” Erdene’s laughter was a booming sound that carried through the whole of the room. A few guards followed suit. Despite the fel mood my father had during our journey back, I found him smiling. Still, the laughter died the instant the chieftain cleared his throat to address me once more. “You will be great one day, child. I hope will that you keep to your words. If you do not, you will cut short your own legacy.” 

Erdene considered both my father and I for a moment, he stroked his chin, before speaking once more. 

“Hassan, you will lead twenty men to recover the bodies and bring them here. The bodies will be burned in accordance to our tradition, but their belongings properly stored to be returned to their people once we reach another outpost.” Erdene’s decision would sate the tribe and keep it protected. The man was a good chieftain for many of his decision. No leader could be loved by all, but he kept his balance well. The Tolst followed his every command. “We will not be embroiled in their conflict more than we already have. We will make no mention of names to the traders. We shall only convey that we found twenty sets of arms and armor that of knights upon a river.”

My father accepted his chieftain’s order and immediately moved to comply. It was nearing the dead of night, so he and the others would have to move quickly to do as the chieftain commanded. I stayed kneeling, as I had yet been addressed, and would have to remain until I was dismissed. One of the Tolst did not have audience with their king end until they were either commanded to carry out an order or dismissed. So, I continued to kneel, even as my father left to carry out our chieftain’s order. 

“Good, good. Now, with that done, let us address this knight of the Ascendancy.” Erdene nodded his head twice. I wondered if the man had forgotten about me, but he addressed that thought before I could even speak it aloud. “Alhambra, as you have saved this knight’s life, you will stay. It is your right to know the outcome of your actions, whether they be for good or ill.” For a moment, his tone with me contained no joy or kindness. My heart felt as though it were between a vice. “This knight’s life is your responsibility. Not the tribe’s. Yours.”

“…I understand, my chieftain.” Yes, indeed, this was the correct course of action for a leader. I had, after all, involved myself in conflict between two groups of well-armed soldiers. The Tolst would not be forced into a war for the sake of a single member of the tribe. As a man who rules over more than two thousand souls, a quarter of which are children who must ride with their families to live, he cannot afford to bring the Tolst to war for the sake of one. “This knight from beyond is my responsibility alone. Not of the Tolst.”

“Well spoken, Alhambra.” Some of Erdene’s typical joy returned to his eyes at my words. The crown carved of ivory and wood upon his head inclined ever-so-slightly at me. I realized that he had sent my father away for this very reason. Hassan would have argued against him and caused a tragedy. Now, just between he and I, the chieftain could simply acknowledge my words and offer me his condolences should he have to choose the tribe over me. “Now, then, you will stay within my tent while I converse with this knight. See yourself fed and watered from my table. I will give you your commands once after my deliberations.”

“I await your command, my chieftain.” I stood, but took a moment to render one last bow towards the leader of the Tolst. The many nods my action elicited from the guards and the silent elders gave me hope. My life was to be left to them and the words that came from the knight’s mouth. I could only hope that the tidings they brought were met well. I sincerely hoped that I  didn’t drag the Tolst into a war. “I am grateful for any nourishment you may offer.”

“Were you a man grown, I’d have offered you whole skein wine for the respect you’ve given me, child.” Erdene chuckled lowly once more, before gesturing at a servant. Like all gathered, she wore a coat lined with fur and pants fit for riding. All Tolst rode and all Tolst wore clothes meant for riding. There was no such thing as dress meant for servants here. I knew she was a servant only because she was told to attend to me. “See him fed a portion fit for a warrior fresh from battle! A growing boy needs as much food in his belly, especially after a day saving lives and riding well!”

I left the hall of the chieftain to the kind laughter of the chieftain, elders, and the guard. 

I could only hope that I would return to the same jovial mood. 

…

A feast fit for a king was a phrase I was accustomed to in my past life. The words were used to bless a fine spread of magnificent foodstuffs. I fondly remembered many a holiday after the war basking in enough food to cover a whole bed. My mother had two others to her employ to aid her in the kitchen, but on special occasions she trussed up her sleeves to prepare grand arrays of food that put the servant girls to shame. Her roasted turkey was the finest, along with her glazed ham, and all her pies. Not only that, but every piece of vegetable she could acquire was spiced and buttered and roasted to perfection. I fondly remembered nights spent carousing around a table where the food never seemed to end. 

Yet, I had to sincerely apologize to my mother for my words regarding her feasts as fit for a king were not true in the least. 

There was more to her meals than that of a king. 

There was a lamb roasted whole with herbs and spices to provide for the whole of the king and his advisors. Drippings were gathered by servants, spiced, and poured over grains made tender. The same grains were milled, made into dough, accented with dried wild fruits and nuts, and sweetened with honey. Wine, carefully rationed as it was traded for, was watered down, spiced, and steeped over a low flame. The array was good in quality, but hardly more so than what the rest of the tribe enjoyed. It was merely larger in quantity and few more ingredients. It was an enjoyable meal, but not a luxurious one. 

Despite ruling over the Tolst, and being able to take a portion of what all earned as a tithe, he spent more on the tribe than himself and his advisors. 

Erdene, undoubtedly, was someone who deserved every ounce of respect I could give him.

I did not know if I would be able to do the same in his place. 

I strove to enjoy all I was given, but ate at a measured pace. The Tolst hardly had any who hungered. Food was shared and portioned. The children and elderly ate alongside the full-fledged members of the tribe. There was no reason for me to eat more than I typically did, regardless of the larger amounts I was offered. Knowing that my chieftain would call me soon unsettled my stomach, as well as the fact that the leaders of the tribe would eat after me, I did not partake more than I wanted to. I set out to calm myself, collect my thoughts, and regain my bearings before I spoke to the chieftain once more. 

A well-prepared man can discard anxiety and fear with utmost ease. The foolish and uncaring will find that fear and anxiety can do to them as they please. It was a simple matter to remember, as it was simply a nursery rhyme, but I took the phrase to heart. It had served me well in my previous life, so I was sure that it would do the same for me in this one. 

So, as soon as I finished consuming my meal, I’d hoped that I would have time to make myself calm.

But, that was not to be, as one saw fit to not allow me a moment of piece.

The individual in question appeared the moment I finished the last bite of my meal. All of the Tolst knew of her. Though only four years my elder, the woman was three times my height, and would soon surely outstrip her father. One of her hands held a spear, while the other held a carcass over her shoulder. Upon her neck was a sling of rabbits bound by the neck, at her waist was a quiver, and a bow was braced against her torso. Servants hurried to tend to her, the finest hunter of the Tolst, relieving her of her hunt and her weapons. Her name was Sarnai, as her hair was a wild man of the color of the most scarlet roses, and her father was Erdene, the chieftain of the Tolst. 

“You’re the child with the healer’s gift.” Sarnai’s fur-lined clothes were stained with blood, so had them taken away. She’d taken the headmost cushion at the end of the long table laden with food. It was undoubtedly her father’s. Her body seemed chiseled from marble and her chest was bound with strips of white cloth. Despite being on the verge of womanhood, the way she growled, how she looked, and the way she carried herself was like that of a man. “Are you here to tend to my father? Did the old fool get himself hurt?”

There was a silence about the tent’s section that was not there previously. All the servants, who had lavishly done their utmost to feed me to bursting, were tending to their tasks quietly. They were afraid of her. Their fear was reasonable. She was, after all, a child that was a giant, who hunted alone with only a spear and a bow, and had a form befitting that of a sculptor’s rendition of a god of war. One of the three would’ve caused distrust. Two would’ve led to keeping one’s distance. All three contributed to fear. 

The way she spoke to me, in an uncouth and abrasive manner, told me she lacked individuals to regularly converse with. Though she’d simply stated what she’d known of me and inquired for her father’s health, the outcome was a set of phrases that effectively had the servers fretting for my safety. They seemed to worry for me as though I’d placed my head between the jaws of a lion!

Perhaps, a child would be frightened, but I’ve met, spoken with, and treated many uncouth individuals of great size and ill temperament before. 

The finest way to approach them was to simply speak to them as gentlemen would to all individuals.

“You flatter me, Sarnai, but, the chieftain needs my aid as much as you do. That is to say; very little.” Always consider the best of another until proven otherwise. Rudeness can be ignored as it shouldn’t be present in the first place. A conversation ought to carry all involved upward, never to ever place a man below another, in the eyes of all. They were simple phrases to live by. I was sure that there was greater meaning behind them that were unbeknownst to me. I was not born to aristocracy, never taught the reasons behind the custom and traditions, but I held them in high regard for how well they’ve served me and granted me so many good relations. So, of course, I followed them stringently. “I could not imagine the day when either you or your father will ever need my gift.”

“Good. Don’t ever think about crossing my father or me. You’re small and you’ll fail.” Sarnai tore into a leg of mutton with her hands. I watched with polite interest as she ate. Her hands took apart the meat with ease over a platter of stewed grains. It was a meal enough for three men. I could imagine that her rapid growth required such an immense amount of food. A whole loaf of the honeyed bread laden with fruits and nuts as to her side. A normal child her age would grow laden with fight with a such a diet, regardless of size or growth, but she was not normal. “But, as long as you remain part of my tribe, follow my laws, and heed my commands, I will protect you.”

“I will do so gladly, heiress of my chieftain.” Placing my hand upon my heart and giving slight boy, it was easy enough to discern that my words appealed to the girl immensely. Feared by most of the Tolst, I could imagine that my simply courtesies resonated well with her. I was glad to do so. A child, no matter their size or shape, remains a creature who yearns for affection. As a man, no reason would suffice for me to treat a child terribly. As a gentlemen, I needed to offer Sarnai measure of kindness and attempt to see her situation bettered. “You have my thanks for all you’ve given the Tolst, Sarnai.”

Sarnai gave no reply besides a nod whilst eating. However, I took note of how her shoulders eased. No longer was the girl ready to leap at the first possible moment. That alone settled the nerves of many of the servants. I could see the change of thoughts in their eyes. They looked upon the daughter of our chieftain with greater calm and consideration. 

I could only hope that did as I did. 

Should they look past the surface of her words and sought out Sarnai’s intent, much of the child’s difficulties would be solved. She needn’t be merely a beast of the Tolst who ruled akin to a warrior-king. One cannot be a capable hunter and warrior without conviction. Sarnai was beyond that. She had talent in excess. Should she be spoken with and gain relations, she would surely become a chieftain that would swiftly surpass her father.

Knowing that, and having time to spare, I chose to speak to Sarnai more before I was called upon. It was a small measure, hardly something worthy of being called a great kindness, but it simply felt right to do.

A child ought not be feared for simply being different. 

There’s better reasons than that.

Erdene’s audience chamber carried a stifling air when I entered it. So unsettling was the feeling that I paused after my first returning step. Gone was the idle laughter and approving nods; what remained was solemnity beyond believe. The knight was gone. As I found myself alone before the king and all his advisors, I missed their presence. 

I was alone now. 

My knee had nary bent before I was addressed by the man who have me die to save the rest of the tribe. 

“You have saved the Tolst, child. For that, you have my most sincere thanks.” Erdene’s words almost made my heart cease. Confusion and shock warred within my heart, but I held fast and waited for him to finish speaking. “You have revealed a great threat to the Tolst in the form of a plague.” My heart stilled at that singular word. “Your choice to enter that battlefield has given the tribe a chance to—

I interrupted Erdene without a single ounce of hesitation.

“My chieftain, please send riders to stop my father from fetching the bodies immediately!” Rising in both stature and voice, I implored my king heedless of tradition or custom. I knew I was in the wrong to do so, but the fear in my heart demanded nothing less than speaking immediately. “He and those who ride with him cannot be allowed to touch the bodies and both myself and the knight must be taken from the camp this instant!”

Plague. Was there any other word that struck fear in the hearts of knowing men than that? The Scarlet Plague, Typhoid, Yellow Fever, and Smallpox all arose to forefront of my mind. Tens of thousands dead due to disease in a world full of the wonders of science and technology! Even when the finest minds could attempt every treatment and the miracles of technology at their disposal, sickness took its toll upon men like a thresher upon wheat. I had no iodine, bromine, or mercurial tinctures here. The herbs for the remedies passed along my family did not exist or were in short supply. Here and now, I was a man with knowledge, but without the means to implement it. The sole treatment I could prescribe was not for the sick, but those who remained healthy. Isolation of the sick via quarantine, sequestering away until the passage of forty days, was my only available solution. 

I could only hope that it would save the Tolst who numbered only two thousand. Should the disease be particularly deadly and contagious, the Tolst could suffer the same fate as the Indians who first encountered the Pox. Though I’d only read of that horrific time in history, I knew of disease well enough to not discount them. All sicknesses are capable of becoming a reaper of whole tribes should they go unchecked. I sorely lacked any medicines, but through strength of arms, care, and action, there was a chance that the disease would not kill every child, adult, and elder of the Tribe.

“Alhambra, son of Hassan, you will heed your chieftain and kneel.”

My thoughts were suddenly assailed by a massive presence. Though I stood and resolved to remain standing, my body urged me to fall to my knees. One moment, I was standing freely. The next, I felt that I was trembling and straining as Atlas did. I felt almost as though I were being crushed by a vice. 

Still, I resisted it.

I couldn’t be silent.

Not about a plague. 

The moment I made that decision, there was a pull upon the ephemeral power within me. The fuel which I used to power my gift to heal others shrunk by halves until I felt as though there was only a small flame resting within the very depths of my being. Every breath I took suddenly felt like frosted daggers scouring my throat. My hands shook, despite being curled into fists. My vision became eddies and torrents of color. I felt a soreness in me that reached the very marrow of my bones. 

Yet, whatever happened, made sure that I remained upright.

That was all I wanted.

“A plague is too dangerous. It cannot be allowed to reach the tribe. To many would die.” Though I spoke slowly and simply, I ensured that I did so clearly and concisely. Words hold great influence and power. In the eyes of the whole court, I would but a defiant child should I show weakness. I could not afford such a an outcome. Not for Hassan’s sake. Not for the Tolst’s sake. Not for all the children’s sake. “You must call my father back, my chieftain!” I could not see. The flame was nearly gone. The vistas of chromatic currents were fast to fade to black. “To ensure he is safely placed away, along with me and all others who came upon the battlefield!”

I no longer knew if I was being heard, or if anyone was speaking to me. A constant chine resounded in my brain. Only embers of power remained within me. Breathing was difficult. Standing: torturous. Through my eyes, I saw only a horizon lacking in color, light, and life. It was cold and dark and terrible. 

I was caught before I even realized that I was falling. 

Warmth blossomed through me as the embers within me was stoked to full. My sluggish blood thundered forward through my body. Strength returned to me in spades.

One moment, I’d felt as though I was nearing death, the next I was being held up by my chieftain on his knee before me.

“One moment you offer me every honor you can grant without losing respect, and the next you see it fit to stand against me, Alhambra.” The chieftain’s words carried a hint of tiredness, but he seemed as vital as ever when I manage to open my eyes. The large hand he used to stop me from falling spanned the whole of my chest. He was a veritable giant when so close. “I know not whether you wish to usurp or praise me, man of my tribe.” 

“D-do not lay your hands upon me, you may become sick!” I stuttered as I overestimated my newfound strength. A scowl formed upon my face as I realized my mistake. I marshalled my strength and pushed my body away from my Chieftain. No. He could not fall to sickness. A plague without one to lead the people would make for a slaughter. However, instead of falling back, I found my arm engulfed by an immense grasp. “My chieftain, you must see me sent away—

“Be silent and heed my words, Alhambra.” Erdene’s voice made my thoughts meaningless. The man, massive in both size and presence, brought me so close to his presence that I was engulfed by his shadow. “Control yourself. Do not allow fear to guide your heart. A plague is mighty and terrible, but you will heed your chieftain instead of your terror.” 

Those words brought calm to my heart. Of course, Erdene would know of the dangers of a plague. Those small worlds allowed me to think and reconsider. He’d thanked me for the news I brought. A chieftain would not offer his thanks for a paltry reason. Those words left him, as he understood the direness of our circumstances. He knew the dangers of the plague and, possibly, knew of a method to fight against it. 

Panic had overtaken my mind. Fear had gripped my heart. I’d lost myself to terror. Though each emotion was for the sake of the Tolst, I’d erred because of my inability to take appropriate action. It was unbecoming of me. Though I’d sought to show my strength, and to gain respect, I’d only managed to appear belligerent. 

“I apologize, my chieftain. It will not happen again.” Slowly, in plain view of all, I took to my knee in Erdene’s shadow. My heart hammered within my chest, but it calmed as my chieftain relinquished my arm. He loomed over me like a god sculpted of bronze. He nodded and turned to return to his chair. His stride was long, so he reached the faraway throne quickly. I realized that the distance made him seem smaller from where petitioners would see him. He seemed only a man larger than most with more than two rooms worth of distance between us. “Please, forgive me for my insolence, leader of my tribe.”

“Action is required for absolution, Alhambra. However, in light of your fear, I will be lenient in the duties I will ask you for your atonement.” Erdene shared a look amongst the Elders when he took his seat. I didn’t recognize most of them, only knowing that they were of the heads of various clans which supported Erdene, but their eyes looked upon me with keen interest. Still, they did not speak. In the chieftain’s tent, Erdene spoke for them all. “However, first, you will do as I meant for you to do before your interruption. Tell me of your gift and how you see the world, then of the knight you rescued and how your power healed their wounds.”

Though the question surprised me, I did my utmost best to answer Erdene’s query.

At length, I told him of the body. Of course, I decided against telling him how I acquired the information from my previous life, but I listed all I knew of the human anatomy and physiology to him. I spoke of bones, ligaments, veins, muscles, and organs. I related of blood at length, of how it traveled through the body and carried disease with ease. Finally, I recounted my knowledge of healing. The mending of bones, reforming of veins and arteries, and regrowth of muscle  were within my abilities, but not the restoration of organs. The intricacies of organs were beyond me, so I knew not how they could be made whole. 

Erdene was silent as I spoke. Upon his throne of wood and bone, my chieftain looked to be a pondering statue. His gaze was sharp and body tense. I felt as though I was before a lion ready to pounce. A part of me urged me to omit portions of my knowledge. I was afraid that I would be found even stranger than I already was. However, I persevered. The right knowledge in the hands of the correct individual could be the difference between life and death. My chieftain has led the tribe to prosperity, treated me well, and has chosen to listen instead of just command. I would have faith in him. 

So, I told him how my Gift felt. Though I was never able to explain it to my father or mother, I hoped that Erdene would understand. All I did was urge the body to become hale and whole. I did not create flesh, blood, or bone. The body merely needed something to aid it. Wounds that could become rotten, such as cuts and gashes, were within my means of healing as I’ve studied countless men recover from such wounds. The mending of muscle, bone, and skin was within my ability, but nothing more. I’d been able to rescue the knight, as they were merely fatigued and moderately injured,  and had not had their innards punctured. All I’d done for the knight was will their wounds to heal and will away dirt and grime. 

It took some time for me to answer Erdene’s question. The torches had to be relit and the guards replaced. All the while the eyes of my chieftain and the elders never seemed to shift from me. When I finished speaking, with only the crackling of torchers resounding in my ears, I felt as though I were a student fresh from relaying his report to his professor. I wondered if they would understand my words, if there was a way they knew I was not spinning lies and it was the truth leaving my lips. 

All I could do was wait during the silence. 

“Alhambra, son of Hassan, I bid you to stand.” Erdene’s voice broke the silence like rumbling thunder. I complied and arose. Due to the stature of a pre-adolescent child, I felt doubly small beneath my chieftain’s gaze, despite how the distance made him seem like a normal man. He turned to the man by his side—undoubtedly the head of his guard—and spoke with him. “Have the knight of the Ascendancy return here.”

Though I wondered why he would ask for the knight to return, I kept silent. I felt as though I’d said enough in the last hour to stay silent the rest of the night.