บท 11: Accelerated Training
"Sit." The Colonel said.
The Colonel and Emile had just entered the Colonel's office. It was neither too big or small, It had a single, normal sized bookshelf and a plain desk. Emile nervously pulled his seat out and sat down.
"The report says you're from the surface–" the Colonel paused and looked up at Emile, "is this true?"
Emile widened his eyes in surprise. He could understand the Colonel even though the translator wasn't present. In reality, the translator was standing outside the office door.
"Yes sir."
"From another kingdom or merely a survivor?" The Colonel asked.
Emile hesitated for a split second, unsure of what to say.
"A survivor, sir."
"Are you aware of the healer's position in society?"
"Roman told me earlier today, sir."
"Ah yes, the Viscounts son…" The Colonel thought aloud. "Well I might as well get you up to speed about why I called you here. In the Fallen Sky Kingdom, and assuredly all the others, healers are considered top priority no matter the proficiency of their healing capability. This is because in the world of gifts, all is possible. There are thousands of people with incredible capabilities; Kingdom conquerors, world changers, those who can single-handedly change the very course of history. These gifts are fairly common. However, the vast majority of these gifts do not make it to fruition. Put simply, the person dies. And the majority of those deaths are not from untreatable wounds, rather, they die because they find themselves in a situation where medical attention cannot be provided. The surface, the depths, the skies. This world we live in is ruled by unimaginable unknowns. Beasts the size of kingdoms, intelligent creatures that rival the power of human-kind, and those are just the creatures we've lived to tell about." The Colonel paused and looked at Emile.
"What does this mean for you–" He pointed at Emile, "you will receive the very best this kingdom has to offer. The best training, the best resources, the grandest of opportunities… but with that comes incredible danger. You alone will be the most targeted by other kingdoms, you will be sent to the most horrid of regions where mankind hasn't existed in thousands of years. You will be beaten, torn, broken, chewed and spit out, and you will probably die, but that is the curse healers are born with. And while I lament your future… I thank you for your service and sacrifice."
Emile stared at the Colonel bowing towards him. "What are you supposed to say to that?" Emile thought. Emile was just told he will be one of the most hated and cherished people in this world. Should he be happy that he's going to receive the best of everything? No! He's only receiving the best because he's going to have to deal with the worst.
In the air of stiffened silence, the Colonel spoke again.
"I know this is troubling and I know it's even worse because you were unaware of this until now, but sparks of life are being snipped out as we speak. I'm sure you think our kingdom is grand, it stretches as far as the eye can see and is made of this beautiful pearlescent stone, but more than half the kingdom is empty. The past four hundred years has seen an incredible decline in birthrates and an explosive growth in deaths. Humans—all of us—are dying. We need, now more than ever, a person capable of preventing those deaths. I'm sorry Emile. I truly am…."
The Colonel took a deep breath and walked away from his desk. Looking out his window, he ended this meeting.
"You will be on an accelerated three month training regime, no days off, and in three months you will join the Forerunners and when that happens, I pray to the Gods around, you will begin to make a difference. You are dismissed."
Emile stood up, pushed his chair in, and walked out. He wore a dull expression on his face and held his head low. He slowly made his way through the long and narrow hallways to the cafeteria. As he got closer, he heard the sounds of laughter and conversation. Camaraderie and brothership forming with each passing syllable. He stopped at the entrance of the cafeteria and watched his fellow recruits.
He found his sister sitting with Brie and Roman. The three of them looked so relaxed. So peaceful.
"Ignorant." Emile thought.
With his appetite ruined, he turned away from the cafeteria and walked aimlessly through the halls. He passed hallway after hallway and door after door all with signs he couldn't understand. To be alone in a comfortable place is one thing, sometimes it can even be nice. To escape the hardship and everyday annoyances of the waking world. But to be alone in a foreign place where nothing looks right and you can't understand a single thing. That loneliness is different. That isolation is torment.
Eventually, Emile made it to a dead-end. Before him stood the end of a hall and with it two double doors. As if on autopilot, Emile knocked on the doors and waited. A few moments later, a latch clicked and the door opened.
A beautiful woman was standing on the other end of the door. Her dark skin was coated in a sea of freckles and her black, box braids were tied back into a ponytail. She was wearing goggles with a bright red frame and a white lab coat. After a while she tilted her head at Emile, afterall he hadn't said anything since she opened the door.
"Cᔑリ i ⍑ᒷꖎ!¡ ||𝙹⚍ ∴╎ℸ ̣ ⍑ ᓭ𝙹ᒲᒷℸ ̣ ⍑╎リ⊣?" The woman said.
"Oh–um–I'm sorry. I don't speak…that." Emile replied.
The woman blinked a few times and then pulled the door completely open. Gesturing with her hand, she invited Emile in.
Emile didn't want to come off as rude, so he entered the laboratory. It was a large space, about the same size as their training rooms had been. But rather than being empty space, the lab was littered with desks and texts and flasks. Tubes of brightly colored liquid flowed across tables, huge steel pots were boiling and its steam collected by more tubes, and the wall at the end of the room was covered in symbols, from ceiling to floor, wall to wall.
The woman walked to a corner of the room and opened a large chest. After rummaging through its contents she pulled out an old book. The leather cover was torn in many places and the pages looked stained. Flipping through the book she stopped on a page and then went to the only other door in the lab. She came out of the separate room with a plethora of flora in hand: multi-colored leaves, flower petals, and an exoskeleton of some type of bug.
She took all of those ingredients to the only empty desk in the lab and began processing them. Unsure of what to do, Emile walked closer to the table and observed the scientist, or alchemist, do her job.
About half an hour later, an orange liquid slowly dripped into an empty flask. Once the dripping stopped, she grabbed the flask and handed it to Emile. Then she motioned for him to drink it.
Emile looked between the flask and the girl. And then drank it. It was still freshly warm and slowly slid down Emile's throat like freshly mixed concrete and it tasted like what dirty socks smelled like, with a hint of banana.
Seconds turned to minutes and Emile was growing worried. Neither of them had said anything since he drank it. He hadn't felt any change, but the woman just continued to stare at him with a gleeful expression of expectation.
Suddenly, although faint, Emile's head began to pulsate. His vision became fuzzy and his balance grew shaky. Emile tumbled over and leaned onto one of the desks. The woman rushed forward and helped Emile stay standing.
For a long time Emile stayed like that, leaning onto the desk with his eyes closed, trying his best not to puke or pass out. He really couldn't stand passing out, he had gone all eighteen years of his life on Earth not passing out once and now he's been passing once a week and he's sick of it.
Slowly, he felt comfortable on his feet again. His head quit spiraling and his vision was crisp.
"Sorry about that," Emile said out of habit.
"It's okay—" the woman said, "I'm glad it worked though!" She said with a smile that lit up the room.
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