[center][color=1E90FF][h1]Sada Kurau: The Surgeon[/h1][/color][/center]
Boring, it was all so, very [i]boring[/i].

Well, perhaps that wasn’t the right word to use. It wasn’t as if there was a shortage of wounds that needed a surgeon’s touch aboard [i]Sada Kurau[/i]. But the scrapes, scratches, splinters, and miscellaneous diseases that were typical of a ship’s crew were humdrum to Dai-sehk. They kept him busy, but only physically – his mind could hardly be stimulated by procedures and diagnoses he could carry out in his sleep. He carried them out all the same, nevertheless. His oaths to the Commonwealth and Jafin Navies, and the loyalty he owed his Captain, demanded at least that much from him. 

However, oaths and duties were one thing. This pervasive boredom was another.

And it was that very boredom which made him decide to spend some time ashore this morning. Perhaps, the bespectacled surgeon had thought, he simply needed a change in scenery. He was wrong. He was still bored; the only difference being that he was now bored on dry land instead of bored aboard Sada Kurau.

His visage was as cold and stoney as the cobbles he trudged upon as he made his way through Sorian. A plethora of unfamiliar sights and sounds – of buildings of novel designs, of peoples in odd attires speaking languages strange to his ears, of a city begging to be explored – surrounded him. Dai-sehk was more than certain that such things would excite most of his fellow shipmates. But him? He felt nothing. There wasn’t anything wrong with the city or its people, however. Dai-sehk could still acknowledge and appreciate what charms it had. He just couldn’t bring himself to feel much of anything towards…Anything, really. Emotions simply never were things that came easily to Dai-sehk. If they came at all.

Yes, perhaps ‘boredom’ wasn’t the right word to describe the flat dispassion that constantly filled him. One which coloured everything in shades of calm grey. ‘Apathy’, maybe? Or just plain ennui? Or was it – as he had considered before – a sort of rare malaise?

Well, none of that really mattered. This was how he had always been. And besides, he had better things to do with his time than to spend it on thought exercises that were – albeit somewhat interesting – ultimately of little use. 

Dai-sehk scrutinised every storefront he passed. He looked at the signs, peered through windows, and he even stopped to ask passers-by about those which left little hints as to their trade. None proved to be what he sought, something which made little sense to him. Surely, this city had to have at least one herbalist or apothecary who dealt in raw herbs? Granted, he did walk past a few pharmacies, but he wasn’t confident enough in his Caesonian to purchase prepared medicines. Neither was he too keen on the notion of doing all the necessary tests to determine what an unknown solution did. Far better – and easier – for him to just synthesise his own concoctions from herbs he could identify through shape, touch, or smell. Assuming, of course, that there were herbs that grew in this part of the world that were identical or similar to the ones he was accustomed to in Viserjanta. 

But he would cross that bridge when he came to it. There wasn’t any point in worrying over that issue now, not when he had yet to even find the shops he needed. 

[i]“I need a doctor! Is there a doctor here?”[/i]

That worried – almost frantic – shout cut through the din of the crowd to Dai-sehk’s ears. Without so much as a thought, he immediately changed course and marched towards its source. Not that there was a need for him to think in the first place. Someone needed a physician, that was his profession, and he didn’t have any reason not to respond. And so logically, he had to respond. Simple. He tugged on the roughspun strap of his haversack as he pushed through the crowd. “Away,” he said brusquely to those in his path. Several people gave him dirty looks as he passed, but he didn’t pay them any heed. Why would he need to? They did exactly as they were told, and stepped aside as he approached. There was no reason for Dai-sehk to bother with them. 

As he reached the edge of the gathered press of nosy onlookers, and his eyes caught sight of a man, pale and panting, sitting on the ground beneath the shade of a canvas awning, and with his head placed snugly between his knees, Dai-sehk felt a familiar thrill rise within him. There was something about the moments just before examining a patient – the possibility of a mystery, the hope for a challenge – that he so greatly relished. The corners of his lips subtly twitched in a burgeoning smile, but as always, that smile never fully materialised. His face remained as impassive as ever.

[i]“Who’re you?”[/i] Dai-sehk hadn’t noticed the other man standing over the prospective patient, and wouldn’t have noticed him at all had the thick-set man not addressed him with suspicion. Sheened in sweat, with a dark layer of grime mottling his hands and arms, and his clothes frayed and well-worn, Dai-sehk guessed that he was a manual labourer. And seeing as how he appeared to be an acquaintance of the prospective patient, Dai-sehk assumed the latter to be in a similar line of work.

[i][color=B0E0E6]“I am doctor.”[/color][/i] Dai-sehk kept his words short and patted himself on the chest. The man continued to regard him with a wary gaze and stood protectively in front of his friend. Dai-sehk didn’t fault him for that – it was a perfectly reasonable act, all things considered. Wearing a tunic of Jafin cut, speaking with an accent that was most likely unrecognisable by the man, and bearing a face that was clearly foreign, Dai-sehk probably didn’t sound or look or even feel like how a Caesonian doctor should. The man was right to be suspicious, and it was up to Dai-sehk to convince him otherwise.

He patted his haversack, and flipped open the flap to show the man its contents. A small, bulky satchel sat between tied-up bamboo scrolls and well-thumbed notebooks. Laying over them was a stethoscope which had clearly seen far better days. [i][color=B0E0E6]“I am doctor,”[/color][/i] Dai-sehk repeated, keeping his tone level, and his eyes on the man’s face. [i][color=B0E0E6]“Can help.”[/color][/i]

The man held Dai-sehk’s gaze for the barest of moments before stepping aside to let him pass. [i]“I-I never saw what happened. We were just unloading crates. Usual work, you know? And then Halsford over there suddenly says he feels like shite. Said he was dizzy and light-headed or something. So I told him to have a short break.”[/i] The words spilled from the man’s mouth in a rapid torrent. Dai-sehk listened to every word; there was no telling what might turn out to be vital. [i]“I looked away for a moment and the next thing I know, the colour’s gone from Hal’s face and he’s a breeze away from collapsing.”[/i]

Dai-sehk knelt in front of Halsford and examined the infirm man with sharp eyes. Oddly enough, although his clothes were dark and soaked with sweat, and his beach-sand blonde hair matted to his forehead, his skin itself appeared to be merely damp. [i][color=B0E0E6]“Hal…Halsford.”[/color][/i] The name rolled awkwardly off Dai-sehk’s tongue and didn’t sound right. As expected, the infirm man didn’t respond. [i][color=B0E0E6]“Halsford,”[/color][/i] Dai-sehk repeated, this time with a more forceful tone. [i][color=B0E0E6]“Stop this. Look up. Look at me.”[/color][/i]

Halsford groaned, but slowly complied. It was clear to Dai-sehk that just the simple act of straightening his neck took the man no small amount of effort, and even after he succeeded, his head swayed every which way unsteadily, as if the muscles in his neck couldn’t support its weight. His mouth hung open, making him appear like a fish washed ashore, and his breaths came in shallow, heaving wheezes. Dai-sehk placed his hands on either side of Halsford’s neck, just under the man’s jaw. The skin was warm and dry to the touch, and right away, Dai-sehk felt his initial thrill fade. [i][color=B0E0E6]“Breathe slow,”[/color][/i] he said flatly. 

[i]“Wha–?”[/i] Halsford words came out in mumbled gibberish. His eyes – dull as they were – could still at least focus on Dai-sehk’s face. For the surgeon, that was both good and bad news. On the one hand, it meant that Halsford wasn’t that far gone yet. On the other, it also meant that there was no intricate mystery here for Dai-sehk to solve. Two questions were all he needed to figure everything out.

[i][color=B0E0E6]“You work…How long you work?”[/color][/i]

Halsford blinked slowly, as if he hadn’t quite understood the question. For a moment, Dai-sehk wondered if his condition was actually worse than what he imagined. But just as he was about to re-examine Halsford, the man began to speak. [i]“Since…We’ve been at it–working since this…Early morning.”[/i] His voice was little more than a mumble, and his words slurred into each other. [i]“Moving–Lots of things to–to move. This place always–It always orders a lot–”[/i]

[i][color=B0E0E6]“No need to know,”[/color][/i] Dai-sehk interrupted abruptly. [i]“From early morning. So you work for hours.”[/i] He looked over his shoulder at Halsford’s friend, who nodded in confirmation. Dai-sehk’s pressed his already thin lips into an even thinner line and turned back to Halsford. [i][color=B0E0E6]“Water. When you drink last?”[/color][/i]

[i]“I uh–I drank some–I drank before working,[/i] Halsford replied and drew in a deep, ragged breath. [i]“We–we do that all the…It’s usual. Then I wasn’t–I didn’t feel thirsty, so I–”[/i]

Dai-sehk cut him off with a click of his tongue. [i][color=B0E0E6]“Stupid,”[/color][/i] he said, that single word as pointed as a dagger.

[i]“Wha–I don’t–”[/i]

[i][color=B0E0E6]“Not thirsty not mean no need water.”[/color][/i] There wasn’t any need, anymore, for Dai-sehk to listen to whatever else Halsford had to say. And so, he didn’t. He pushed his eyeglasses further up his nose and rummaged through his haversack for two small vials; one of plain salt, and the other of white sugar. Then, he turned to Halsford’s friend. [i][color=B0E0E6]“You. Find cup, water, spoon. Bring here quick.”[/color][/i] 

The friend furrowed his brow. [i]“I don’t see what–”[/i]

[i][color=B0E0E6]“Cup. Water. Spoon,”[/color][/i] Dai-sehk repeated, his growing impatience clear in his words. [i][color=B0E0E6]“Now!”[/color][/i]

That was enough to convince the friend to stop arguing and scamper off.

[i]“W-What’s wrong with–”[/i] Halsford started to ask.

[i][color=B0E0E6]“You work. In sun. For long time. And no water. You are sick from heat,”[/color][/i] Dai-sehk replied tersely. Halford’s high body temperature; his suspicious lack of sweat; his dizziness, all could be explained by a simple case of heat exhaustion. A simple diagnosis, and one which had lost its charm on Dai-sehk years ago. He could feel the boredom – or whatever it was – edge its way back into his mind. Suddenly, everything seemed so dull to him. Halsford, his ailment, his friend, the crowd that refused to disperse, they were all so incredibly uninteresting to Dai-sehk. He wanted nothing more than to leave.

Thankfully, the friend soon returned, the items Dai-sehk requested in hand. With practised ease, he mixed measured spoonfuls of salt and sugar into the cup of water. [i][color=B0E0E6]“Three parts salt. One part sugar. In water and mix,”[/color][/i] he droned, glancing at the man as he vigorously stirred the makeshift draught. [i][color=B0E0E6]“You listen. Make this and give. He must drink. Until he is good. Or you find medicine.”[/color][/i] 

[i]“The thing you’re making…”[/i] The friend scratched his chin. [i]“It’s not medicine?”[/i]

Dai-sehk looked at him and blinked once. [i][color=B0E0E6]“Salt. Sugar. Only…Temporary.”[/color][/i] He turned back to Halsford and pushed the cup towards him. The ailing man took it with shaking hands and emptied its contents in a long, single gulp. [i][color=B0E0E6]“He get better, good,”[/color][/i] Dai-sehk said and threw the vials back into his haversack. With a grunt, he stood up and slung it over his shoulder. [i][color=B0E0E6]“He drink, will be better. He still bad, then find other doctor.”[/color][/i] 

[i]“Thank–”[/i] the friend began, and as was becoming typical, Dai-sehk didn’t let him finish.

[i][color=B0E0E6]“Stop that,”[/color][/i] the surgeon said tersely, a vague hint of a scowl on his face. This was the part of his job which he most disliked. Undeserved praise and gratitude grated against him like Hai-shuun’s sandpaper. All this, everything he had done so far, was nothing to him. He wouldn’t congratulate himself for the same reason he wouldn’t congratulate a person for simply breathing successfully. It was pointless, anyway; no amount of adulation made him feel anything. The only satisfaction he ever felt came from solving a proper mystery, and this incident was far from being such a thing.

Dai-sehk left hurriedly before Halsford or his friend could say anything more. He didn’t have time to bother with inane, useless babble, anyway. There were better, more important things for him to do. He melted into the dissipating crowd. A quiet, imperceptible sigh blew through his lips. 

If only everything wasn’t so, very [i]boring[/i].