Metal and Flesh (The Rohvim, Book 1)

14.4 Powerless

The woman started to bleed from her nose, her hand up as if trying to ward off further strikes. She cried, and screamed, though Aeden could hear no sound. The fist stopped. Aeden could finally see that the fist belonged to the old man. The hand reached down to the woman, and hefted her up off the floor. She was still sobbing. And bleeding. The hand stroked her hair. Aeden could hear nothing, but saw the woman slowly stop crying, nurse her nose and her now black eye. The hand held her shoulder, and guided her to a chair. The scene shifted. More corn.

   Aeden continued walking. He found the body's section, and began searching for problems. He could not concentrate. The image of the bloody, cowering woman haunted him. Does this man deserve healing? He thought. He saw a few flashing red lights on the extremities section, and approached them. Is this how all commoners are? His hand drifted over the controls for that section. How can he hurt and injure, and then come ask for healing?

   Aeden struggled. He heard a distant, echoed voice: Please heal me. He looked all over, but saw no one. He stood there, staring at the controls. He heard it again, very distant, pleading: Please! Please heal me! His hand rested on the dials governing the red lights. He turned it slowly. The light turned from red to orange, then yellow.

   The image of the woman replayed itself in his mind. Her hand raised to block the beating fist.

   He stopped. He moved the dial back. Yellow, orange, red.

   He raised his hand from the controls.

   He left the mind.

   He looked and saw the old man sitting there, with expectant eyes. Aeden took away his hand. "I'm sorry, I tried, but I could do nothing. I'm sorry." He said straight faced.

   The man sighed. He struggled to get up, and said, "Thank you for trying. For a moment there, I thought I was feeling relief. Thought I might be able to farm again. No matter. You did your best. Thank you, my son." The man raised his fist above Aeden and placed it gently on his head. He voiced aloud: "Great Creator, bless this young man. May thy grace rest upon him." He lowered his arm, and limped out of the room.

   Aeden sat there, shaking. He stood to fetch another townsperson, but sat again. He leaned back against the brick wall and looked toward the ceiling of the room. Rough wooden boards, held together by slats of steel near the walls. He traced the seams with his eyes, the knots, the cut marks. He counted them.

   He lowered his head and rose and opened the door. He beckoned to the next person. The woman entered, carrying a young boy, no more than three or four. He looked listless and pale. "What is wrong with him?" Aeden asked.

   "I don't know. He's been like this for weeks," she whispered. The woman looked plainly exhausted. They sat and Aeden placed his hand on the boy's burning head. He entered. The wall loomed before him and he found the body section. A mass of flashing red and orange greeted him. He caught his breath. Extremities, red. Lungs, orange. Blood, red. Stomach and viscera, red. He turned some of the dials. A few reds turned to orange. He turned other dials. The oranges turned back to red. He adjusted the blood dial. The lung lights turned from orange to red. Aeden panicked. He turned more dials, some changing the colors to orange and yellow, others changing them right back. What am I doing? He thought, and he left the mind.

   He said to the woman, "I'll be right back, madam." He rushed out of the room, and found the master healer's room where the old man had his hand on the head of an old, scabby woman.

   The master healer opened his eyes. "Can I help you, Aeden?"

   The young man blurted out, "Master, there is a sick child here, and I'm not sure what to do. I'm afraid I've made him worse."

   The master arose, supporting the old woman as she followed him out the door. "Unlikely. But come. Let us see." The old woman thanked the master, who followed Aeden into his room. The young mother looked up at them, red eyes pleading. The two men sat, placing their hands on the child's head, and entered.

   Aeden showed the old man the lights, and how he had adjusted them. The master healer turned a few of them himself, then placed his hand on a blank screen, closed his eyes and concentrated. When he opened them, he looked up at Aeden, unable to hide the sorrow in his eyes. You've done nothing wrong, Aeden. There is nothing either of us can do. Whatever malady has invaded this child is here to stay. It is in the Creator's hands now.

   Aeden shouted, What do you mean there's nothing we can do? We're healers, aren't we? It's just parts and pieces here that we need to fix, just like your metal toy! Fix him!

   The old man sighed. I'm so sorry Aeden, This is hard. It's hard your first time, and it does not get easier, I'm afraid. We are not the Creator. We can't fix this. Just like the lord of Lofgren, we can't fix this. Only the Creator can now.

   Aeden pursed his lips. He turned his back. Fine. Let's leave. The two men left the mind and opened their eyes. The master healer put his hand on the side of the head of the woman, tenderly stroking her hair.

   "My lady. I'm so sorry. I can do nothing." She wept, the tired tears flowing down her cheek. The old man rested his hand on her head, and spoke. "Let us pray." He lifted up his head and raised his voice, "Oh Creator of heaven and earth, of field and sky. Have mercy now on this thy daughter, and this her son. Let thy power flow from on high and cleanse the child of the malady and heal his pain. May thy grace be sufficient for him, and for her. And for us. Of one mind and heart!"

    She likewise repeated, "Of one mind and heart."

   Aeden breathed, "Of one mind and heart."

   The woman found strength and bore her child out of the room. The master healer, with a tear on his cheek, pulled Aeden to the door. "Come, my son. There is work yet to be done before the journey is rejoined."