Aleria surveyed the chaotic scene before her with a mixture of dismay and resignation. It seemed word of the clinic's reopening had spread like wildfire through the streets of Last Gate, when Haddy went to market procuring supplies.
The small waiting area was packed to overflowing with people of all ages and walks of life, each one clutching an injury or ailment in desperate need of treatment. A cacophony of coughing, groaning, and muffled sobbing filled the cramped space. The air was thick with the mingled scents of sweat, unwashed bodies, and sickness.
Several more hopeful patients loitered just outside the clinic's entrance, unwilling to be deterred by the throngs already waiting within. A young mother cradled a feverish infant to her breast, rocking back and forth anxiously. An elderly man leaned heavily on a gnarled walking stick, his rheumy eyes fixed on the doorway with single-minded intensity.
Aleria's gaze swept over the press of bodies, her healer's instincts already cataloguing the most dire cases. The malnourished child huddled in a tattered shawl, the labourer whose face was awash with the telltale crimson streaks of blood-poisoning, the crone wracked with fits of violent coughing...
She turned to Bernard, raising her voice to be heard over the din. "We'll need to establish some order, and quickly. At this rate, we'll be overrun before we've even properly opened our doors."
Bernard caught her eye and gave a curt nod of understanding. He barked a rapid series of orders, and his three soldiers materialised from the crowd to flank him.
"You heard the lady!" Bernard's gruff bellow cut through the clamour, causing the mass of people to fall momentarily silent. "We're institutin' triage procedures. Emergency cases only until further notice!"
He gestured sharply to the waiting throng. "If your injury or illness is chronic 'er not in immediate need, clear out an' return on the morrow. We'll re-evaluate the situation then."
A sullen muttering rose up, but Aleria felt a fleeting sense of relief as the soldiers began efficiently separating the masses into two distinct groups. Perhaps they could bring some semblance of order...
Aleria turned to Haddy and placed a reassuring hand on the younger woman's shoulder. "We'll need to triage the most urgent cases first," she said, her voice level despite the pandemonium swirling around them. "Once the soldiers have separated them, direct the parties in order of immediate need."
Haddy's cheery demeanour hardened into a businesslike mask of efficiency. She gave a crisp nod of understanding. "Aye, I'm on it."
Confident that Haddy and Bernard had the waiting area well in hand, Aleria shifted her focus to a young dwarven man supported between two of his kin. What little could be seen of his face beneath hair and beard was pale and sheened with sweat, jaw clenched against the agony of what was clearly a badly broken leg. The limb hung at an unnatural angle, the fabric of his breeches darkly stained.
"You two, bring him this way." Aleria gestured for them to follow, already turning on her heel and striding down the narrow corridor towards the treatment rooms. She pushed open the door to the nearest one, ushering the dwarves inside. "Get him up on that gurney."
The dwarves manhandled their companion onto the narrow pallet with surprising gentleness despite their bulky frames. The injured dwarf's breath escaped in a shuddering hiss of mingled relief and residual pain as he was finally allowed to lie flat.
Aleria wasted no time in rolling up her sleeves, revealing the corded muscle of her forearms. She flexed her fingers, feeling the familiar tingle of mana thrumming beneath her skin in response to her silent summons.
Aleria gently rolled up the man's pant leg, revealing a gruesome fracture. The jagged edge of bone protruded obscenely through the dwarf's sweat-sheened skin, crusted with dried blood. She grimaced inwardly at the sight, schooling her features to remain impassive.
"Must've been one hell of a blow to break dwarven bone this badly," she commented, unable to completely mask the note of grudging respect in her tone.
The eldest of the three dwarves - undoubtedly the father from his protective hovering - gave a solemn nod of confirmation. His expression was grim, the creases in his weathered face deepening.
"Aye, a nasty fall from a fair height, that," he rumbled, the low timbre of his voice resonant. "We were framin' up a new buildin' site on the east side o' town. Ceidin' here was workin' the second level when a loose board gave way beneath his boots."
Aleria felt a pang of empathy for the unfortunate dwarf - Ceidin, his father had called him. Workplace accidents were a common occurrence, especially in the more physically demanding trades. The pain he must be enduring...
"How long ago did this happen?" she asked briskly, already gathering her focus. The familiar thrum of mana hummed beneath her skin, awaiting her call.
"No more'n an hour past," Ceidin's father supplied. "We brung 'im straight here soon as we could fashion a bindin' splint."
Aleria's instincts took over as she assessed the severity of Ceidin's injury. Broken bones were an all too familiar sight after her time tending to the grievously wounded on the battlefields.
"This is going to be unpleasant," she said flatly, holding the dwarf's pained gaze. "I'll need you to bite down on this."
She plucked a strip of leather from a nearby tray of supplies and proffered it to Ceidin. The dwarf's ruddy complexion had taken on an ashen cast, but he accepted the makeshift bite guard without protest, jaw clenching around it.
Aleria turned her attention to the other two dwarves hovering anxiously nearby. "You two need to hold him steady. No matter how he may thrash or beg for mercy, do not let him move that leg until I'm finished."
The pair exchanged an apprehensive glance but obediently moved to pin Ceidin's shoulders and uninjured leg to the gurney.
"Ready?" she asked.
The injured dwarf's eyes went wide with sudden trepidation, but he gave a minute nod of resigned understanding.
Aleria felt a fleeting stab of remorse for the agony she was about to inflict upon the poor man. But it was a necessary cruelty - she couldn't properly heal the bone until the jagged edges were realigned.
Drawing a steadying breath, she firmly grasped Ceidin's calf and thigh, steeling herself. In one deft, practised motion, she jerked the limb back into its proper alignment with an audible crunch of bone grinding against bone.
Ceidin arched off the gurney with an agonised scream that was mercifully muffled by the leather strap clenched between his teeth. The other dwarves grunted with the effort of holding him down as he bucked and convulsed.
Aleria didn't allow herself to be deterred. Her hands were already aglow with the telltale emerald shimmer of healing magic as she cradled the dwarf's mangled leg with surprising tenderness. She reached out with her magic, delving through torn flesh and shattered bone to knit the damage back together from the inside out.
It was delicate work, coaxing the intricate latticework of fractured bones to re-knit while simultaneously repairing the shredded muscle and ruptured veins surrounding them.
Gradually, Ceidin's thrashing subsided into small, whimpers as her magic took merciful hold. The furrows of pain etched into his brow began to ease as her ministrations dulled the worst of his agony to a gentle ache.
Only once she was certain the break had re-knitted properly did Aleria allow the verdant radiance enveloping her hands to slowly fade and wink out. She let out a long, slow exhalation, rolling her shoulders to alleviate the lingering tingle of mana prickling along her nerves.
"Barin's beard, lass," the elder dwarf rumbled, awe tinged with gratitude colouring his gruff tones. "You've well and truly worked a miracle here today."
He extended a hand, calloused palm engulfing Aleria's in a firm shake. "Oriv StoneDelver, at your service. An' this stubborn son o' mine is Ceidin."
Ceidin managed a weary nod of greeting, the simple motion still tinged with residual discomfort. The colour had returned to his complexion, though his brow remained lightly sheened with sweat.
"A break like that could've crippled the lad permanently if not properly tended," Oriv continued gravely. "Cost him his livelihood on the construction sites, most like."
He shook his head slowly, expression solemn. "We owe you a debt that canna’ be easily repaid, Mistress...?"
"Just Aleria will suffice," she replied, returning the dwarf's firm handshake. Humility warred with a faint sense of pride at having her skills acknowledged. "I was merely doing what I'm here to do."
Oriv's bushy brows drew together in a sceptical frown. "Don't go sellin' yourself short, lass. The way you went wagging your fingers an' mendin' flesh an' bone alike?" He shook his head again, more emphatically this time. "That's a rare talent, make no mistake. You've a gift for the healin' arts, one I'd not have thought to find even in the grandest cities of the dwarven realm."
Aleria felt a flush of warmth tinge her cheeks at such high praise. She cleared her throat, suddenly self-conscious. "You're most kind, Master Stonedelver. But I assure you, I've merely had... extensive practice mending such wounds in my time.
"In any event, Ceidin will need to keep off that leg for a few days to allow the new bone to fully set and knit properly," she said, tone brisk and all-business once more. "After that, start him on some light exercises to rebuild strength and flexibility. But nothing too strenuous until the limb has had a chance to heal completely."
She levelled Ceidin with a pointed look, one corner of her mouth quirking upwards in a wry half-smile. "No going straight back to hauling heavy lumber about, understand? You'll undo all my hard work and land yourself right back here."
Ceidin returned her look with a chagrined one of his own, his shoulders lifting in a small shrug. "Aye, I'll mind your advice to the letter. You've my word on that, Mistress Healer."
Oriv clapped his son lightly on the arm, pride and gratitude mingling in his expression as he regarded Aleria once more.
"Should you ever require a stout pair o' hands to patch up this place, you've only to give the word," he offered, gesturing to indicate himself and the other dwarves. "After a bit o' care like what you've shown here today, it's the least we can offer in return."
Aleria offered the dwarves a gracious smile as she excused herself. "Thank you, Master Stonedelver. I may well take you up on that generous offer once we've got this place properly on its feet again."
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