Healing darkness (part 1)

Slipping away from Nicole, I hurry along the edge of the large square, trying my best to ignore the chaos in the center.

I don't have to look far. Several wounded are being carried and dragged toward a shop with a large glass display of makeup, creams, and various little bottles... Oh, is it a pharmacy? That makes sense.

I hurry toward the commotion.

On the way, I come across a couple of pajama-clad men with pointy ears struggling to lift someone onto a makeshift stretcher. I step up to them.

"Let me help," I say, pulling darkness from the ground to lift the man gently.

He's unconscious, but the shallow rise and fall of his chest shows he's still breathing. There are no obvious open wounds, though his shirt is soaked in blood.

"Please slide it under him," I say, nodding toward the stretcher.

They grab the canvas from both sides, and I smoothly lower the man onto it. Either his chest was pierced, or he was rammed exactly like I was. Regardless, I focus on minimizing any movement or vibration in his torso... No matter how clumsily I just performed that maneuver, it's vastly better than rolling him onto the stretcher like a sack of potatoes.

I continue toward the pharmacy, stepping aside to let a woman carrying a couple of children on her back enter first, then follow right behind her.

... The place is much larger than it looks from the outside. Dozens of injured from various races line the floor, while others sprint frantically between them.

'They shouldn't run indoors like that. They're just creating more chaos, the fools.'

Hmm... there are more medics here than I expected. Obviously, I can't just stand at the entrance like a statue. As I walk deeper inside, the characteristic light green glow of healing magic flares from three different corners of the room.

Well, I'll take my chances. Letting my new instincts guide me, I head toward the ones who seem to be in the absolute worst shape.

"Hey, vixen! You're in the way, get out of here!"

Eh, sure, it might look like I'm wandering aimlessly, but I'm looking for a specific spot. I don't bother answering the rude old man because, right at that moment, I find it.

I remember reading that in this country, triage protocols typically separate those who can be saved from those who cannot. And sure enough, there are... eight people practically abandoned at the far end of the room. Though calling that barely breathing pile of mangled flesh 'intact bodies' would be a stretch.

At least they had the decency not to stack them on top of each other like discarded rags.

Alright, let's get to work. The smell of cold sweat, blood, and masonry dust stings my nose. And the groans of pain strain my ears, but I still don't stop moving my hands.

Both legs gone, minor lacerations everywhere. Can I regenerate new tissue...? Yes, the shadows respond to my will. I'll start by closing the arteries.

Crushed intestines? Let's stitch and regenerate.

Shattered bones? Same old routine.

Fractured and swollen skull? Repair the bone, regenerate the tissue, and get that blood flowing properly... Done.

Before I can move to the next patient, the old man grabs me forcefully by the shoulder. Well, forcefully for an elderly human. He wrenches me around and starts yelling.

"Step away from them, girl! Only certified healers of the Crown are permitted here. Don't you dare taint these patients with that filthy magic!"

"Filthy magic? I am healing them, uh, sir," I reply. I try to maintain a polite tone out of respect for his age, doing my absolute best to ignore the spittle flying from his mouth. Fortunately, most of it lands on his own robes.

"Preposterous! Darkness magic cannot heal; it only corrupts! I will not have my triage ruined by an ignorant commoner! Guards! Remove her at once!"

I decide that saving lives is vastly more important than paying attention to the senile doctor.

Let's see... More missing limbs; let's seal those up.

... I suppose the, um, hmm, let's call them 'xenos', even if they're quite different from the ones in my mind. Yes, the xenos seem to favor slicing off appendages and batting people across the street. It causes a quick death for most, but leaves very specific trauma patterns if you survive.

Within a few minutes, I finish treating the supposedly unsalvageable group. Miraculously, none of them died while I was working. While only one might wake up exactly as they were before the attack, I genuinely feel I could restore them completely given enough time. Huh... it's still a strange and contradictory feeling.

For now, though, the priority is keeping them alive, not making them cosmetically perfect. I pivot, scanning the room for anyone else I can assist.

Unfortunately, the old man refuses to calm down. If anything, his tantrum is escalating.

"What are you waiting for? I gave you an order! Grab her and throw her out!"

The old man's shrill scream pierces my eardrums, causing my ears to instinctively pull back at the unpleasant noise. Okay, this has to stop.

That is simply too loud to ignore!

Thankfully, the guards and medics are far more concerned with hauling the wounded than catering to his ego, especially after seeing the results of my handiwork.

'... I have officially decided to reserve my respect for those who actually earn it, rather than those who simply outlived their own manners.'

I detest losing my composure, even in the privacy of my mind, but... that arrogant, fossilized relic of a doctor is testing the very limits of my patience. Ugh, sorry, Mom. I needed to vent.

I can sense a dense pool of magic radiating from him, so he must be an important figure. But having magical prowess doesn't give him a free pass to act like an absolute tyrant.

Well, someone needs to remove him before he bursts a blood vessel. I march right up to him.

"Um..."

Okay, false start. 'Be more assertive, Seina!'

"Excuse me, sir, but I must ask you to leave."

Are those the right words to use when forcefully evicting someone? Whatever, it doesn't matter.

My voice came out sounding far more submissive than I intended. But that doesn't stop me from latching onto his arm and hauling him away. He has slightly longer ears than the average human, a trait shared by countless species, so I can't quite pinpoint his race. A half-elf, perhaps? The capital is full of them. Physically, however, he weighs about as much as a dry twig, so I drag him toward the exit without breaking a sweat.

"AGH! Unhand me! Do you have any idea who I am?! Let go of me this instant, you wretched vixen!"

Ignore, ignore, ignore...

After casually dodging a flurry of annoying, albeit tragically weak and slow, punches, I manage to haul him to the front door of the pharmacy and unceremoniously toss him out into the street. Oh? Nicole is jogging toward us! Wasn't she busy incinerating xenos? But... she actually looks exhausted. It's hard to tell with her, considering her default state is chronic lethargy.

"What are you doing!?" she asks, reflexively offering a hand to help the crumpled man up.

"He was in the way."

"That's no excuse to—"

"DON'T TOUCH ME, YOU WENCH!" The old man shoves her as hard as his frail arms can manage, cutting her off abruptly. Nicole doesn't even stumble, but she clearly felt the impact. Right. Enough of that.

"MY NAME—"

I'm the one interrupting him this time.

A tiny, precise pinch of darkness directly against his brain stem finally shuts him up. Nicole and I just stand there, blinking, as he crumples to the cobblestones. His collapse is accompanied by a very distinct, dry crunch... Wow, did a bone just snap from a simple fall?

Um, oops. Sorry about that.

Hmm... Old people are incredibly fragile here. I remember a neighbor back home who was over a hundred years old and still rode a bicycle everywhere.

Then again, there was my stubborn grandmother. When she was alive, she absolutely hated being coddled. The second no one was looking, she would try to do all the household chores by herself, which resulted in her tumbling down the stairs on more than one occasion. She would end up covered in spectacular bruises, but as far as I know, her bones never shattered like glass.

"Hey! What did you do to him?" Nicole asks, crouching down to check his pulse. Once she confirms he's still breathing, she simply rolls him into a more comfortable position.

"Uh... He shoved you, and... you know what, never mind. He'll be fine. I'll talk to you later. I need to get back to the patients, bye!"

I quickly jog back inside.

Darn it. Did I overreact...? No, well, yes, maybe a little. But that's beside the point right now. He totally deserved it. That arrogant old man reminded me way too much of a certain stubborn doctor.

I get back to work, but unexpectedly, there aren't as many wounded as I thought there would be. Especially considering how close we are to the academy where the xenos originated.

But... remembering all the bodies scattered outside... I guess most of those unlucky enough to be in close range didn't even survive.

... Oh, well, since a body can always use a bit more mending, I keep moving. I help those with minor injuries and reinforce the healing of the ones I just treated. I do the bare minimum to stabilize them before moving on to someone in worse shape.

I see Nicole walking in and sitting down near the entrance, leaning against the glass storefront. Since things are quieting down, I decide to approach her.

"Are you alright?" I quickly scan her for injuries. She's a little sweaty, and her eyes look heavier than usual, but she seems physically fine.

"Yeah, but I'm exhausted. I haven't run this much in years. My magic being completely drained doesn't help."

"That's good... Why are you looking at me like that?" She's giving me the look someone might have if their aunt casually mentioned chatting with a dead relative... Wait, what? That comparison makes absolutely no sense.

"... Nothing. It's just that I hadn't seen you so focused before. You looked like a completely different person."

"I know, right? It's a little scary. I feel like I've done this before," I answer, recalling the strangely familiar sensation of pulling glass shards out of flesh as I seal up one last laceration.

"Mmm... let's save that conversation for later. Why did you get into a fight with Mr. Blackwell?" She leans back against the glass display.

"Who?"

"The old man from before."

"Oh, you know him?"

"... Yes. A former royal doctor. He used to work directly for the royal family, and he still holds a prominent position at the castle. He's also somewhat famous."

"..."

What? That rude old man is actually important?

"So?"

"Ah, yes. I don't think he liked that I was using darkness magic to heal people. He stopped his triage entirely and chased me around for several minutes, yelling louder and louder. I had to throw him out to stop him from making the patients uncomfortable and terrified."

"Well, I haven't heard anything good about him... But completely halting triage in the middle of a crisis just to berate someone for doing things differently is crossing a line... I'll talk to him about it later at the castle. Maybe he'll finally pass the torch to someone younger and more capable."

"I'm glad you got something positive out of my suffering..."

"Thank you for your sacrifice." She seems a little more cheerful now.