Chapter 4: Chapter 4: A Healer’s Work is Never Done

“Why are you bothering Lysa?” a weak voice called out from inside the tent. Both Yaihan and the druid turned to the face the man that interrupted their conversation. An elderly man barely lifted his head off the ground as he stared at the cultivator with his only eye. “She’s got more important things to tend to than to answer some... wanderer’s questions.”

“It’s fine, Lei,” Lysa said in a quiet voice. “I don’t mind talking to him. I can still channel Mending Storm even in conversation.”

“But he doesn’t deserve your attention!” the old man said as loud as his withered vocal cords could allow. “Any man with that physique that isn’t out fighting isn’t someone worth talking to!”

“Sir,” Yaihan said as he turned his body enough to look at the sick man. “I plan on fighting. I just haven’t had much of a chance ever since I returned.”

“Returned from where?” the old man snapped. “You look healthy to me. Couldn’t have been anywhere here in Xiwao for you to be so fit!”

“I’ve returned from my time cultivating,” Yaihan said calmly.

“Ah, that explains it.” Lei shook his head before resting it back on the blanket. “Another one of those... power seekers. If you’re like the last one roamed here, you’ll be dead the moment you step onto the battlefield.” The old man flicked his wrist before covering his lone eye with his arm. “Go ahead and ask your questions then. Not like you’ll be alive much longer. Might as well get them in while you still can.”

Yaihan faced Lysa again. The druid looked down; her face red with embarrassment. 

“I’m sorry,” Lysa whispered.

“For what?”

“It... hasn’t been easy. Ever since the Oni-Zhen came to be, it has been nothing but tragedy after tragedy for us. I don’t think I’ve seen someone smile ever since the war started. Everyone has become bitter. Almost hopeless.”

“No need to apologize,” Yaihan said. “I understand the man’s discontent.”

“You’ve done nothing wrong,” Lysa replied, making eye contact with the cultivator.

“Hopefully, I’ll be able to prove my worth soon.”

“Putting yourself in the face of certain death is a large ask. I don’t blame anyone for not wanting to fight in this impossible war.”

The cultivator’s eyes focused on the blob of water towards the top of her staff. It splashed around like water falling into a bowl. “Perhaps you could tell me more about yourself. I’ve met a few other druids before, but never one of your caliber.”

“I’m from Mesimica,” she answered quietly. “It is a long story for how I ended up in Xiwao. I... don’t know if I have the time to go into full detail. My time casting Mending Storm will come to an end soon.” Her eyes then panned across the interior of the tent as she looked at the sick and wounded that lay inside. “When that’s done, I need to focus on more personal healing to treat some of the more serious injuries.”

“Your work seems to be never-ending,” Yaihan said solemnly. 

“That’s exactly what it is. I switch between Mending Storm and individual treatments to help as many people as I can. The soothing properties of Mending Storm can help more people at once, but it will only deal with relatively minor ailments and injuries. After an hour of that, I have a long queue of serious wounds to deal with.”

“Is that where you staff comes in to use?”

Lysa nodded. “Yes. That’s when I cast Curative Bubble. I channel water into a single spot and it will heal larger wounds effectively. Unfortunately, the number of people that need focused healing is ever growing. I came up with this system to make sure I’m able to hep as many people as possible.”

“I see. Hopefully, you’ll be able to schedule in some rest.”

“Mending Storm doesn’t take much out of me. The problem comes when I’m no longer able to hold this form.” Lysa looked down and pressed her hand against her chest. “Then I’m forced to get a bit of rest.”

“This ‘form?’ What do you mean by that?” Yaihan asked with confusion.

“My Purifier form,” Lysa answered. “This Ensemble that you see... wasn’t chosen by me. And I only have access to my healing powers when I’m transformed. When I’m not a Purifier... I’m little more than useless.”

“Don’t say that,” Yaihan replied as he put a hand on the druid’s shoulder. Lysa tilted her head away and sighed, unable to make eye contact with the cultivator.

“You’ve only seen me as a Purifier. When I’m just a normal person... I’m truly useless.”

“Hey!” the same sick old man called out. Yaihan turned his over his shoulder and looked at him. He struggled to get his head up as he looked past Yaihan and directly at Lysa. “We don’t need you saying that. This camp would have been destroyed weeks ago without you!”

The others in the tent joined in. They sang praise of the druid, so much so that the entire room filled with incoherent chatter. Lysa couldn’t resist her lips from forming a small smile. She turned her head to the side as her bronze cheeks glowed a faint crimson. 

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“I’ll leave you be, Lysa,” Yaihan said as he stood to his feet. He gave the druid a bow. “I know you have a lot of work ahead of you. But I just wanted to meet such an exceptional individual. Before I left for my meditation, my old master always told me to pay respects to healers. Even though they receive much praise from those they heal, their work often goes unsung throughout history.”

“Thank you... sir. I apologize I forgot your same. So many people come and go, it’s a bit difficult for me to keep track. What should I call you?”

“Yaihan.”

Lysa grinned. “Thank you, Yaihan. If The Creator allows it, we’ll have many more conversations.”

“That would be pleasant.” Yaihan waved at the druid before heading towards the other side of the tent. Before he could open the flap at the entrance, a young man came barging through. He was still in his teens and held a short sword in one hand while the other pressed against his heart as he regained his breath.

“The Oni! I spotted them on the horizon!” he shouted. “They’re chasing Fei-Lu and the others!”

The entire room stirred. The injured people that could stand up did so as they all murmured and panicked amongst themselves. Among the commotion, Lysa got up from her seat and headed towards the front of the tent. Seeing the druid try to leave, Yaihan stood between her and the entrance.

“Are you heading to a hideout?” Yaihan asked.

“No. I’m going to help the others in battle.”

Her words took the cultivator back. “What? You’re able to fight as well?”

Lysa nodded. “Yes. When we had more men, I used to stay back all the time to focus on keeping the injured safe. But since our numbers are so low, it’s my duty to go out and help my allies.”

Yaihan put both hands on Lysa’s shoulders and looked into her eyes. “You stay here. You’re far too important to go out into the front lines.”

The druid pushed away one of Yaihan’s hands. “I understand your concern and it’s appreciated. But I’m more formidable in battle than you are. My presence in battle is needed! I can cast spells to weaken the enemy, not to mention helping the recently wounded.”

“Please, Lysa.” He kept his other hand on the druid’s shoulders while pointing at the throng of weary and terrified individuals. “They need you here. If you are truly a formidable combatant, then you should be able to protect them if the Oni should break through the camp’s defenses.”

“I have orders from Fei-Lu,” Lysa said with hesitation. 

“I’ll go in your place.”

“But you’re not trained in our tactics.”

“I don’t need to be.”

“You have a lot of confidence,” Lysa said while giving the cultivator a glare from the side of her eye. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”

“If I told you, you wouldn’t believe me,” Yaihan replied calmly. “Wait until you hear the testimonies of the other soldiers when they return.”

Lysa took one more look at the injured behind her and then at Yaihan. She sighed and pressed her staff against her body. “Please. For everyone’s sake, I hope whatever plan you have comes through. There’s nothing I hate more than leaving the defenseless to fend for themselves.”

“I won’t disappoint.”

Lysa turned around and headed back to her original spot on the tent. “Be calm, everyone!” Lysa commanded. “I’ll stay behind to protect you. Until we’re attacked, let me focus on addressing the most serious injuries and illnesses! Get back into a line like before. I’ll tend to each of you, one by one.”

The crowd continued to mumble, fear still present in their voices as they trembled as much as their feeble bodies would allow. As they formed a line, the sound of rain stopped and the temperature quickly shot up from cool to sultry. Yaihan slowly moved his way through the crowd and put a hand on the back of the scout that informed every one of the news.

“Young man,” Yaihan said. The boy turned around and eyed the cultivator from the top down before focusing on his bare hands. “Take me to where the Oni-Zhen are approaching.”

“Don’t you want a weapon? The armory is in the opposite direction.”

“It’s not needed,” the cultivator replied. “Just take me to our enemies.”

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