A Mender's Peril - from Yohan

A soft breeze rustled the green leaves outside the Mender’s home. The morning was bright and welcoming, with sunlight showering the wide room and making gilded book rims along shelves shimmer.

But the man in bed with a pillow over his head, just wanted it all to go away. The chirping sparrows, the sweet scent of honeysuckle carried through the window, even the merry sound of oblivious children playing. All of it. Gone.

Against his own wishes, he rose to his feet and dragged himself to the balcony. The day lured him. Visea looked the same as always, a land of eternal spring and flowing crystal streams. Lush flora lined the paved streets and buildings, and in the near distance atop rolling hills, there were bountiful farmlands fit for any crop.

The view, beautiful as it was, filled him with dread. It had been close to a month since the news, and every day, his heart weighed heavier.

“Mister Yohan!” a little girl called from below, holding a ball in her hands. “Will you come out and play with us today?”

Yohan forced a smile. “Ah, I’d love to! But I’m afraid today won’t do either—”

“Please, Mister Yohan!” another kid pleaded.

“I’m sorry, kiddos, but I’m busy, very busy! You keep on having fun on your own, don’t worry about little ol’ me.”

With that, he retreated back indoors as the children whined, “Aww, man!” Plopping down in a chair, he tangled his hands in his scruffy beige hair. He lied to them. He wasn’t busy – none of his, or anyone’s days had been. Many saw no use in being healed, so of course, fewer Menders were performing their duties.

Yohan lazily glanced over the book titles – Mending 101: Anatomy, When to Save or to Let Go, Threads and Blood… More than he could count. A thirst for knowledge that lasted so many years, only for his efforts to be… Futile. The Nexus no longer needed heroes. But how could he have ever known?

Carraige wheels hit against the roads. He had gotten used to it, so he didn’t have to look outside to know what it meant. More Reapers arriving from Elakin, there to collect the wandering threads of the deceased. He still couldn’t fathom it. Of all places, Visea – where death outside of old age was a rarity. By other regions’ standards, it was normal. For Menders? An epidemic.

His thoughts ailed him, expressing doubt, fear, and most of all, dismay. What good was a Mender in a doomed world? The carriage grew louder. He needed a distraction, but all around were just reminders – especially his brown medic uniform which hung on a rack, a simple buttoned-up coat with a red badge. A symbol of his dedication that once filled him with pride.

A loud knocking downstairs pulled Yohan out of his distress. It quickly became more insistent, until he was unable to ignore it. Still in his loose nightwear, he made his way to the front door, as he wondered who was his first visitor in weeks – but through the peephole, there was someone he didn’t recognize.

An intense-looking woman with short black hair, suited in a Guardian’s armor. Every knock was more urgent than the last. Confused, Yohan opened the door warily. There was no time to ask what she wanted – she barged in right when she had the chance.

“E-Excuse me, Miss! Is there something wrong?”

“Are you the High Mender, Yohan Smith?”

“Yes…?”

“I require your mending immediately.”

His heart skipped a beat. It felt like an eternity since he last healed a person. “What is the matter?”

“A man in comatose from an anomaly attack.”

And just like that, the hope had vanished as soon as it came. Whoever this man was, he was too far gone.

“So… You’ve come from at least Section 4,” Yohan said tiredly as he counted down his fingers. “Over a month’s trip on foot—”

“No. It was Showyth, and a two-week journey with the help of Fliers.”

His gray eyes almost popped out of his head. He must have misunderstood her.

“Showyth?  You’re not pulling my leg here, are you?”

A dark aura radiated off the Guardian as she took a firm step closer to Yohan. “Let’s not be foolish, Mr. Smith. As if this would just be a game. Now, please – I can explain everything later, but right now, you must come with me.”

Yohan heeded her promptly, running upstairs to fetch his uniform then dashing out the door before he even covered it around himself. For the first time in a while, there was vigor back in his bones as the warm air refreshed him. But he could hardly keep up with the Guardian, who moved with the swiftness of a horse.

“What is your name?” he asked, maneuvering through various Menders to meet her pace.

“Roe.”

He nodded. “Roe. I can only imagine how Seris is going to respond to this… Have they already been deployed?” and expectantly he added, “Do they need help?”

Roe spared him a small glance, her expression alone telling nothing. Then after a brief moment of tense silence, she said, “As of now, Seris is still unaware.”

“What!” Yohan shouted, stopping in his tracks. “I don’t understand. There’s anomalies in Section 1, and you haven’t alerted the other Guardians? This is an emergency!”

“There was no time. The man I’m taking you to see – he’s dying.”

The words were a stab to his chest. He had thought “the man” would be in a more stable condition, given the shorter distance between Showyth and Visea compared to Sections 1 and 4. But no, it was what he first assumed.

“You should’ve told me that sooner,” he said somberly. “Unfortunately… There haven’t been any overseeing Weavers around, and – I’m sure you know what that means.”

“Correct. But I don’t care. Please move along, Mr. Smith.”

Was she going to cry and beg? That would only make him feel worse.

“I’m truly sorry… I wish I could help you, believe me, I really do. But I can’t prevent death without the permission of a High Weaver.”

It was the one restriction for Menders. For the sake of the Nexus’s health, not every person could be brought back from dying, otherwise the tribes would risk the population exceeding its limit. If a High Weaver stated numbers were low enough, a life could be spared. If not…

Yohan hated it with everything.

“I don’t like having to repeat myself,” Roe said.

She started to go again, but Yohan stayed still.

“Roe. I’m sorry, there’s nothing I can do.”

“Are you not one of the best Menders Visea has to offer? That’s what all the locals here have been saying. Was I lied to?”

“This isn’t about my capabilities… The rules exist for a reason, and as a responsible Mender, I have to oblige. I know this is difficult to accept, but—”

Shing.

Roe pulled her sword out of its sheath. Turning to face him fully, there was a dangerous gleam in her eyes, like a wolf staring down its prey. A chill creeped onto his skin. Concerned whispers surrounded them – it was all they could do. Menders versus just one Guardian… He was defenseless. What was she thinking?

“Roe,” he gulped, “please, calm down. We don’t have to do anything… Extreme.”

“Yes, I agree. But you see,” she traced her index finger along the blade, “if you’re not willing to comply, then I’m left with no other option. It’s either you come with me, or I make you. Do we have an understanding, Mr. Smith?”