"Henri, could you pass me the antiseptic?"
The flaxen haired doctor gave a small nod, reaching into the crate of supplies he had been manning. He had seen the bottle in here only moments before, now he just had to find it. He moved aside several carefully labeled bottles dedicated to curing colds and illness, at last finding the blue glass bottle. He stood from his spot, wincing at the tight feeling in his bad leg. He dusted off his brown suit pants and walked over to his chocolate haired colleague, nursing a slight limp. He slowed as he approached the doctor and patient, a sniffling little girl dressed in a dirty ragged brown dress. Her eyes were watering, and she cradled her arm, which showed a series of nasty cuts. Henri gave the girl a kind smile, offering the bottle to his fellow doctor.
"Here you are Quincy." He said.
The second doctor took the bottle with a nod of thanks, his green eyes gentle as he began to pour a small amount onto a clean cloth. He looked up at the girl.
"I'm going to put some of this on your scrapes, what is your name young lady?"
The little girl sniffed, shuffling her feet a bit nervously.
"M-m-Maria." She hiccupped, her watery brown eyes darting to Henri, then back to Quincy.
The blue suited doctor gave her a smile, taking her arm gently and raising the cloth.
"Well, Miss Maria, I'm going to clean your cuts there so you will heal properly. Is that alright with you?"
The little girl gave a slight nod, moving her hand so Quincy could get a better look at the wounds. Henri could see the wound had become dirty and risked infection if not treated. He thanked God that they had chosen today to have their street clinic, and that the weather had been crisp and sunny. Quincy clucked his tongue, shaking his head as he gently cleaned the dirt and grime from the otherwise fresh injury. Henri knelt beside the girl, wincing once more as his leg protested. He gave her another timid smile, trying to portray as much kindness as he could in his powder blue eyes.
"How did you get hurt Miss Maria?" He asked softly.
The little girl took a shuddering breath, not taking her eyes off of the work being done on her arm.
"Imma chimneysweep sa." She replied. "I wasn't a watchin' me steps close enough. Slipped and got me arm banged up right good I did."
Henri gave the little girl a reassuring pat on the shoulder, his heart clenching. Chimneysweeps were most commonly orphans, cleaning out ashes and dirt for only mere pennies. The doctor sighed.
I wish my country could do more than leave these poor children to starve. He thought sadly.
Quincy finished cleaning the cuts, using a separate cloth to clean his hands.
"Alright Miss Maria, my friend here is going to wrap your arm up tight so it will stay clean. Try not to get it too dirty, and be a good girl."
The young chimneysweep nodded, a grin stretching over her face.
"Ifn ya ever need a good sweepin', ida be 'appy to clean fer ya... 'alf price too!"
Quincy gave the girl a smile.
"I'll keep that in mind, my chimney has been looking a bit dirty these days. Now if you'll excuse me, I have some other patients to care for."
As the second doctor moved on to the next patient, Henri took up position in front of Maria. He placed gauze over the cuts, and began to wrap the arm with a bandage, taking extra care to be gentle so he didn't cause his patient any extraneous pain. The young girl tilted her head.
"What'd the doc say ya name was again sa?" She asked.
Henri smiled, not looking up from his work.
"I'm doctor Collins, but you may call me Henri if you like."
The girl giggled, making Henri look up. She tried to talk through her giggles.
"That was right mean of ya mum, callin' you ornery."
Henri laughed a bit, shaking his head.
"It's actually pronounced On-ree. My mother was French, so she gave me a French name. You may laugh about it though, I don't mind."
Maria managed to control her giggle fit, placing a hand on her hip.
"So you's a Frenchie? Ya sounded pretty Brit to me."
Henri began to tie off the bandage, pausing for a moment to adjust his glasses more firmly on his face.
"I was raised here in London, because my father was British. I am British by birth I'll have you know."
The little girl froze her big eyes meeting his, a touch of sadness in them.
"Sa, you's talkin' about ya family like they's gone with all them was's and such."
Henri's hands dropped to his lap, his smile fading. He sighed.
"My parents are gone, miss. Mother died when I was very little, my father when I was sixteen."
Maria gave him a sad smile, patting him on the shoulder.
"So you's an orphan huh sa?" She said. "I is one too. It aint too bad ifn ya know how ta live, n where to get ya food. You's a doctor, so you's got lots of food don't ya?"
Henri laughed, standing to ease the tightness in his leg.
"Too much at times Miss. I'll tell you what, if you stop by the big white house near ... um..." Henri paused. He knew the young sweep wouldn't know the word 'Apothecary', and struggled to come up with an appropriate description. "The shop where you get medicines, I will give you some snacks whenever you like."
Maria's face lit up.
"Truly sa? Ya'd do that for me?"
The kindhearted doctor nodded, chuckling slightly.
"Indeed little Miss, I can't eat all that doctor food by myself."
The little girl let out a happy squeal reaching up and hugging Henri around the legs. The action took him by surprise, but he smiled anyway, patting the girl's head. She smiled up at him, her childish excitement bubbling over.
"Thank ya Doctor Ornery! You's the bestest!"
With that the young Chimneysweep dashed off into the cobblestone streets, her dirty blonde braids trailing after her. Henri chuckled to himself, beginning to clean up the supplies. He loved this. He loved helping others with all of his soul, even if he could no longer practice fully as a doctor. He picked up the soiled cloths, folding them and placing them in the separate crate for used items.
"It's a good thing the streets aren't that busy today, she could get herself hurt running around like that." A voice spoke from behind.
Henri shook his head, turning to meet the speaker.
"She's a Chimneysweep Quincy, I'm sure she's quite the professional at dodging carriages."
The taller doctor sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"I'd be much more at ease if they all stayed in safer locations."
Henri huffed a small laugh, moving to pick up one of the heavier crates. He clenched the box tightly and pulled upwards, trying to balance its weight more to his right hand. It was a risk, he knew, but he couldn't leave his colleague to pack by himself. The crate tilted unexpectedly, causing his weakened left hand to take a majority of the weight. Henri hissed in pain, his left hand giving out as the crate dropped back to its original place. The young doctor clenched his teeth, rubbing at the twisting scars on his left hand... a sinking feeling in his chest. The wounds had healed yes, but his mobility and strength in that hand would never be the same. Quincy picked up the crate, a kind smile on his face.
"Let me help you with these. After all we're done for today, it's time to pack up."
Henri nodded his thanks, still rubbing at his offending hand. It wasn't too bad as long as he didn't try to lift heavy things... or perform surgeries. He sighed and began to collect the lighter weight boxes and items, loading them into the carriage and attempting not to spiral into a depressive train of thought. Quincy was a larger man; he could handle the heavy boxes. The taller doctor lifted the last of the crates into the carriage, turning to Henri.
"Why don't you stay for lunch at my manor? I was hoping to discuss some matters with you."
The young doctor smiled to himself, his friend was always looking out for him. He must have sensed he was feeling down.
"I would be happy to."
They both climbed into the carriage, Quincy clucking his tongue to get the horses into motion. The ride passed quickly, the busy streets and citizens of Victorian London passing about their own lives. The two doctors arrived at the entrance of a light blue painted manor, with some dark brown brickwork. The decorative iron fence gave an elegant touch to the stately building, along with the short, green shrubbery just before they reached the door. Henri and Quincy were both ushered inside, some of the servants coming to unload the supplies. Before long he was seated at a fancy chestnut table, Quincy setting across from him, a newspaper in his hands. Henri picked at the sandwich he had been provided, his appetite was slim as it had been for several months now, but he did not wish to appear unthankful for the provided meal.
Quincy shook his head, setting the paper down with a disapproving huff. Henri looked up from the turkey and lettuce lunch item, catching a flash of concern in his friend's eyes.
"Another article about that ghostly apparition." Quincy said, setting the paper down. "I'm beginning to worry."
Henri took another bite of the sandwich, his eyebrows furrowing in thought. The papers had been all over this mystery, whether man or myth, he didn't know. Quincy placed a finger on the article.
"Listen to this, 'The ghostly golden eyed fiend, now deemed the NightOwl, was seen haunting citizens near the Thames. Witnesses confirm they heard a commotion, then a most horrifying screech like death itself. A black shadow was spotted fleeing the area. When officers arrived, a cluster of local thieves were found tied by the hands to a streetlamp. Like the other NightOwl cases, a gold and black feather was found at the scene of the crime. Sir Liam Crowe, head of the Institute for Human Sciences, wisely cautions citizens to be wary of the demon, and urges them to contact a local police force should they spot it. The creature is believed to be of supernatural capabilities, Investigator David Daines, who is heading up the search for the monstrosity, states... "This is a ghost mystery indeed, but I shall do everything in my power to solve it."."
Quincy set aside the paper again, snatching up the cup of tea the maids had just brought out. "The streets of London are becoming no longer safe. Something must be done!"
Henri set his morsel down, shooting a nervous glance up at his friend and colleague.
"Do you truly believe this to be some supernatural haunt?" He inquired. "You seem to be quite troubled over this."
Quincy nearly spewed out his tea, his face twisted in utter shock.
"Henri! What sane member of society wouldn't be concerned?! This creature is a terror to life itself! He could be hunting us from the rooftops every time we take a stroll down the streets and we would never even know!" He spluttered, Looking around the room as if to reassure himself the NightOwl was not there at that very moment. "'Tied by the hands to a streetlamp' Henri! That could be any of us!" He placed his hands together as if tied, shaking them for emphasis.
Henri decided against continuing the conversation, instead turning back to the half eaten sandwich. Quincy leaned closer, his gaze serious.
"Henri, please promise me you'll be cautious?"
The kindhearted doctor sighed. There was no use talking Quincy out of it, his over-cautious personality rendered him the victim of many publicity ploys. Henri was a bit concerned himself, but he didn't believe whoever, or whatever this NightOwl was, would be hunting them in particular. He gave his friend a tired nod.
"I will stay alert for danger Quincy."
His friend gave him a suspicious frown.
"Like you were only four months ago?" He said.
Henri jerked his head up, his chest tightening with emotion. Quincy's eyes widened as he realized his mistake.
"Oh, I'm so sorry my friend. That was uncalled for."
The young doctor turned away, a tear stinging at his eye. "You know the accident wasn't my fault." He whispered.
Quincy winced visibly. Shaking his head at himself.
"Indeed, the cabby didn't see you in his path. You're lucky to even be alive."
Henri shook his head, clenching and unclenching his left hand with only the slightest whisper of pain.
"Not lucky... blessed. I was protected by God that day." He sighed, his hand dropping back into his lap. "If only I knew why."
Quincy gave him a kind but sad smile, rising from his seat. "He will let you know when the time comes. For now, we should part ways, it's getting quite late."
Henri nodded, standing to his feet. He followed his host back to the main doors. Quincy glanced back at him briefly, his green eyes worried.
"If your hand or limp worsens, do let me know."
Henri managed a slight chuckle, ducking out the door. "You forget I am a doctor as well Quincy. I declare, you do enough worrying for the whole of London."
The taller doctor shook his head. "And I fear you don't worry half as much as you should."
Henri smiled back at his friend. "The Lord will protect me Quincy; you don't need to do the work for Him."
His friend sighed, and then let out a soft huffing laugh. "I guess you have me there my friend. I shall see you again soon."
"Lord willing." Henri agreed, climbing into the carriage. "Farewell."
Quincy gave the young doctor a small wave before the carriage pulled away from the house. Henri's smile dropped into a worried frown. He knew the tales the Times told were usually far from the truth, but what his friend had said was beginning to worry him. He didn't believe in haunts or ghouls, but could this rumor be as dangerous as they made it out to be? Had he true reason to fear as Quincy did? He continued to think on the Mysterious NightOwl for the remainder of the ride home, the seed of worry only seeming to grow with each heartbeat.
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Dragon Bytes:
This chapter was super fun!
Believe it or not, I didn't even have Maria in the original idea for this chapter, she just kinda popped in, and I let her stay! (Laughs) She ended up stealing my heart, so you're probably going to see more of her in the future.
Well, be sure to comment, vote if you like, and stay awesome!