When he and his dog were passing through the square, a commotion caught his attention. There were cries for help, and angry men were shouting. He asked a bystander what was happening; the woman told him that there was an accident: a merchant’s manacart rolled over a young girl, and she seemed to die on the spot.

“Call for a physician!” was the cry of the crowd. So, Nero raised his voice:

“I’m a healer! Let me pass through!”

The crowd looked at him, and some recognized him, then shouted: “Make way! Make way for the healer!”

And so, a path was opened for him, and he managed to pass through the crowd.

These two men in front of the manacart were the ones arguing: one, obviously a merchant (and a particularly rich one, as he had a black flocom hovering around him), and one a fishmonger with blood still on his apron. Phrases like “your fault!”, “why me?”, “what will you do?”, “take responsibility!” and other emotional outbursts were exchanged between the two; a police officer was poorly mediating between them. Only when Nero entered the scene the two arguing men stopped, and together with the police officer watched him.

Undoubtedly, the officer was inexperienced to what should be dealt with first during a crisis.

And the crisis: a bloodied girl, skin already turning pale blue, was unconscious and being held by a woman (perhaps her mother) who was sobbing silently, every now and then fixing the girl’s strands of hair sticking on her small, innocent, but deathly face.

Nero approached and crouched beside the sobbing woman, then introduced himself as a healer. Usually, people would scrutinize his claims, doubting him for his young age and whatnots, asking to see his signet. But this time, the woman let him attend to the girl; her desperation made her trust him—and he wouldn’t betray that trust.

Instead of questioning him, the woman asked, “My poor daughter…can you help her?”

“What happened, ma’am?”

“She was hit by this manacart…and the wheel…” She couldn’t complete her sentence and covered her mouth, trying to refrain from weeping.

“Has she been rolled over?” he asked. The woman nodded shakily. “Please, lay her down.”

The woman carefully laid down the girl.

He checked on the girl, and as he did he told the girl’s mother her state.

(A digression: He has a skill called “Sirilion’s Eyes”, which makes it possible for him to see everyone’s soul. And as someone gifted with Sirilion’s Eyes he didn’t really need to assess the girl’s physical injuries—a soul gives better information about someone’s state, better than anything physical in fact. However, he learned that by showing that a healer knows what he is talking about through confidence and facts, a patient—or in this case, her mother—will feel that the healer is credible, someone one can fully trust. So, he didn’t use this particular skill here yet.)

Thus, he explained:

“Your daughter received bruises and lacerations here and there, as you can see, but these are typical shallow injuries for such incident; not life-threatening. This big bruise on her left arm—a bit more serious, but it’s also normal; fortunately, her arm’s not broken.

“But the injury on her head—it’s a wide cut, hence this amount of blood. A concussion might be the reason for her to lose her consciousness. Her heart…it’s beating shallowly yet fast, and she isn’t breathing…”

He rent the victim’s yellow blouse, revealing a severe bruise running between her chest and abdomen. The mother winced and looked away, but mustered the courage to look again, to listen to his assessment.

Touching the bruised area, he felt one…two…three broken ribs.

“Three ribs are broken…these two ribs, these lowest ribs are most severe; they’re constraining her diaphragm.”

He started feeling the girl’s abdomen when the police officer suddenly asked:

“Are you a physician?”

“A healer,” he clarified. He kept on feeling the girl’s abdomen, for her broken ribs.

“A healer, huh…”

“Please, stand back. I can’t concentrate.”

The police officer stepped back immediately.

Nero looked at the girl’s mother.

“I’ll snap these two ribs,” he told her, as he kept on digging his thumbs on to the girl’s abdomen. “With my current skills, unfortunately, I can’t heal derailed bones yet, only broken ones. Her third broken rib—you must let a surgeon check it.”

Then he finally dug deep enough and reached two of the broken ribs. And so, with enough force he snapped these two back to their places. The young girl started, then took a deep breath, coughed then wailed in pain, looking heavy- and teary-eyed at him, then to her mother, reaching for her.

Celebration abrupted around—a premature celebration. And it ended as fast, as the poor girl fainted again.

The young healer quickly opened his backpack and reached for an egg-shaped machine—a portable extractor—and took out two standard-size mana orbs (that is, the size of a golf ball), then laid them all on the ground. He also took out the pouch of aether sand he just bought. I should have brought mana pearls, he thought.

This is a standard operation for healers like him, and one that separates them from other physicians: to use mana in treating physical injuries. Needless to say, only certain talented individuals having a peculiar affinity with mana can become healers. Talented individuals such as him.

He started his treatment-proper of the girl as a healer:

First, by infusing his own mana into his eyes, he activated his Sirilion’s Eyes—a skill so rare that he was warned both by his uncle and his master not to show it to anyone, for not even most of the healers have it. Fortunately, activating it has no superficial manifestation.

Using his mana-filled eyes, he saw the girl becoming slightly translucent, the fact being that he was looking directly at her soul already.

Several black pockets of antimana were in it: on her bruised abdomen and left arm, upon the cut on her head, and a few small ones on her numerous scratches. For a girl’s soul, those black cloud-like pockets were lethal. Her mana core, a spherical container the size of her fist in the lower part of her abdomen, was even almost depleted as her mana flowed through her soul, desperate in cancelling the overwhelming amount of antimana; it was sitting by estimate at 10% of its full reserve.

Nero then poured a hand-scoop of aether sand on the base of the portable extractor, and upon the cavity above he inserted the mana orb. Then he ignited the burner where he put the aether sand, as fire was needed to extract mana out of the aether sand; slowly, strands of purple smoke came out of three small nozzles pointing towards the mana orb, which then absorbed the strands of smoke.

“What are you doing, doctor?” the mother asked, worried.

To alleviate her anxiety for her daughter, Nero explained what he was doing in the calmest manner he could, saying:

“This egg-shape apparatus is what we call a ‘portable extractor.’ It’s an emergency tool for us healers. We use this to make mana pearls when none is available—like now.

“Portable extractors have three main parts: the oil pot,” he pointed at the base of the extractor, “it’s where we put oil, so to start a fire—since fire is needed to extract mana out of the aether sand. Then here’s the extraction pot,” he pointed at its widest part, about the center of the apparatus, “here, you can find the burner, where I also put the aether sand as you witnessed.” He looked around; all eyes were looking at him, ears listening to what he’s saying. So, he increased his voice’s volume for eveyone near him to hear.

“Once ignited, the blue sand will release the mana it holds, and it will be released through these three nozzles as purple smoke, as you can see.

“The mana orb, which is held here in the ‘holder’,” he pointed at the cavity, “the mana orb will automatically absorb the purple smoke, securing the mana inside. However, only the standard-sized mana orb can be held here in this type of extractor—that’s 43 mm in diameter. Then—ah, this one’s filled already.”

He quickly took the mana pearl and put the other mana orb in its place, as the strands of purple smoke continued to come out from the extraction pot.

He continued, saying, “I will then absorb the mana inside this mana pearl, and pour it to your daughter’s soul. With that, her soul will activate her body’s own healing capabilities at tremendous speed, miraculous speed, and will almost instantly heal all these grave wounds.”