A question began floating around as the end of the month came closer and closer: Why did the simulations get so difficult so quickly? And to Kanrel, there was an obvious answer: To point out how little the useless novices knew about anything, and how difficult it is for even the greatest of experts to peer into the human body and find something called a tumor. A cancerous thing that, without removal, would lead to the painful death of the patient.
They had seen it happen a couple of times... One time, with Yirn lying on the bed. It was like nothing had happened to him; he seemed normal for a while... Then suddenly seizures... Yirn's body was forced into spasms he couldn't control, nor could Kanrel or anyone, who tried to figure out what was wrong. And when the seizures stopped, there were screams of pain, but soon even that passed... He fell asleep, then died. They could do nothing about it, only stare and, in panic, try to figure out what the hell was wrong.
After the simulation ended, Yirn sat up. He reached for his head and muttered: "It was like I'd feel restless, then agitated; there'd be this pain within my head that would spread through me... My vision would get blurry, and... so tired, I felt so tired and weak."
During a lecture, Professor Forsvarn explained what it was, and what could be done, if anything at all: "With tumors and cancers, you'd first have to find it before it spreads to different parts of the body. There is no guarantee that removing a tumor will save the patient. Often it seems that it remerges, or if it has spread, then there is nothing that can be done; it is not like we can open every square inch of a human, and find a thing that could be the size of a grain of sand."
It was sad, as they really didn't know enough about it to heal such an issue, and it wasn't even the only thing they couldn't heal. During the same lecture, Forsvarn shared that recently they had noticed that some patients who had started to lose their memories and skills had something happen to their brains, like a slow degeneration of the organ that was apparently in command of the whole body.
And then there was also a disease that, for some unknown reason, made people more prone to most, if not all, diseases; a disease that broke the immune system of the patient.
The professors dubbed these three diseases as 'unsolvable diseases.' They were the most miserable ones, not only for the patients but also for their loved ones. One could only witness as their loved one slowly withered away, be it their body, their mind, or both at the same time; either way, leaving behind a soulless husk and hopelessness.
It wasn't just unfair; it was disgustingly unfair that that would be how they would leave this world.
It was a profound experience to see it happen so many times in such a short time. Especially the one Forsvarn called cancer, how much it could hurt at its worst, how helpless not only you but those around you feel.
And they were 'just' simulations of the real thing. Surely, it could only imitate and never be as bad as the actual experience of the thing. For it could take months for the cancer to become incurable without anyone knowing or realizing what was going on. And you would only know when it was too late, and already you might be in a hospital bed, praying to the Angels for the last time, as others watched you, close your eyes for the final time.
As far as Forsvarn knew, there wasn't a single such patient in the Academic Hospital, but it was also impossible to know for certain.
Then the last day of the month came by, and the novices gathered, again, in the main hall of the simulation complex. Professor Forsvarn sat on the bed, awaiting the students to find chairs and to sit down. All this happened in relative silence; there wasn't much conversing the moment they stepped into the hall, and even less so when a chair was found and seated on.
Forsvarn's gaze studied the crowd, and when they were all settled, she spoke, "I am most pleased. Many weeks have gone by, and each day proves my thesis further."
"Most of you, if not all, are useless. This is just a matter of fact, so do not take it to your heart, instill it into your mind, carve it into your brain, and remember that such a thing as understanding in the most complicated fields of study takes years, if not decades."
"Of course, not all hope is lost. Not all of you are as useless as the next; some show potential, and some are entirely hopeless. And so we have a few more weeks to fix that."
"By the end of this hassle, I want most of you, if not all, to be in the 'not-entirely-useless' category of people," she explained, followed by a scoff.
"There are two options for two very different categories of people…" she said and locked her gaze onto a group of students at the back. "Some of you will stay here, and keep practicing with the simulations, studying books, and whatever it takes to become someone I consider at least able to fix a broken arm of a farmer you've been tasked to heal."
Her gaze shifted and locked where Kanrel sat with Yirn and the rest of their team. "And some of you will find yourselves following other medical professionals. They will get the chance to diagnose patients in the hospital, and hopefully heal them as well. This will be a great chance to learn as much as you can from us."
"And when the final week comes by, those lucky ones will be allowed to practice their skills on real patients under our supervision. Do well, and you might someday have a spot for yourself here among the very best our blessed Kingdom can muster." A smile had coiled onto her lips. One that, perhaps, pretended to instill inspiration and pride within them... or herself. Such emotions just never found themselves within.
Forsvarn named the four groups that found themselves to be the 'lucky ones.' Kanrel and the rest among them; a wide variety of reactions followed. Yirn's expression was covered by despair, and Yviev's eyes burned ever brighter. And Kanrel wasn't sure whether what was to come would be a good thing or not.
They were dismissed, and together with the rest, they made their way out of the hospital and its suffocating atmosphere, into the park just outside, where some students still roamed, making their way to the next lecture.
Instead of going back to their rooms, Kanrel led the group to a pair of benches and sat down. Even though his body almost collapsed against the bench, he still could not relax. Yirn and Yviev sat next to him, Uanna and Wen sat on the other bench.
There wasn't even one of them who could muster enough strength from within to sit straight. Their group was in disarray; they practically loitered in the midst of beauty left unappreciated. A faculty member walking by might find them suspicious if it were not for the robes they wore, and if they'd come closer, they'd only be faced with blank stares that aimlessly looked somewhere, perhaps within, perhaps trying to heal something that couldn't be fixed.
The wind should have soothed the mind, but it became just an even plane where thoughts might place themselves as if it were an invitation to enter, and paint the walls left white in the temple of your mind with black and gray, with shapes and forms.
"If you think about it, we only have another month left." Yviev broke the silence. In her voice, there wasn't even a hint of her usual tone.
The apparent silence answered her; only the sounds of the park around filled the air. Birds sang and chirped; people walked by, conversing about who knows what, followed by laughter, the language of joy and hidden pain.
The midday sun shone on them from above, piercing through the branches of large oak trees that might've been older than the academy itself. Their shadows were grand and regal, crowning the ground.
Kanrel found no words to engage her in conversation. He found no reason to. The last month had been grueling; it had left lasting impressions on all of them, things they'd never forget; things they'd never be able to process. The silver lining she had found felt shallow at best. Unable to cover the most traumatic experiences they might go through in their lives.
Although the event itself might soon be long past, and you might start to believe that things would change and be better... it was just never so. The nightmares would persist, and the image of bed might forever be perverted into a torture device.
And the moment they would find themselves healing the wound of another, would the past experiences not arise and force you to live through it again, to feel not only the pain of the past, but to feel the pain of the patient before you, for whatever pain the wound caused the patient, they had surely gone much worse.
"Yes, and we won't need to lie on that torture device anymore. Now we get to see others in pain, not just each other." Uanna found something to give as an answer. Her voice was solemn and vulnerable. "You know, I can't even sleep on the bed anymore."
Wen pulled her closer and caressed her hair, for she wasn't the only one who felt like that. "It is suffocating," Wen whispered, just loud enough that they could all still hear it.
Kanrel couldn't help but look at Uanna. He pitied her more than he pitied himself, for he remembered her so well from before. How she had been before the ritual. How bright she had been, how well she treated others. A prideful noble, who treated everyone with respect, even the nameless.
Why was she here? Kanrel couldn't help but wonder; the question almost parted his lips. Why would a noble want to become a priest, even if she was as religious as she was?
Kanrel gritted his teeth. They weren't questions that he could ask. He didn't want any of them to dwell on what couldn't be changed. So he found another to perhaps shift their conversation away from despair: "We have just a few months until graduation and the vows; what are your plans after this?"
It didn't help much.
"To the Inquisition, there I belong," Yirn answered first. He seemed tense. "Not here; I really don't belong here," he muttered.
Wen seemed to ponder for a moment before answering, "A temple or a cathedral, perhaps even a monastery. I want to teach the people the words of the Angels."
"I will do anything the Priesthood wishes of me; my duty is to follow," Uanna said, and for a moment, the despair was gone from her face, only to return soon after.
"I'll remain here, at the hospital," Yviev said, to everyone's shock. "I don't want to remain a novice who knows nothing."
They all peered at Yviev, trying to figure out if she was telling the truth or not and if, for a moment, she was her usual self. But she looked serious, and there was determination on her face; she would not be broken. She refused to break.
"How about you?" Uanna asked; in her voice, there was shyness, perhaps a memory of how she had been before. She fiddled with the side of her robes.
"Me?" Kanrel asked after a while, when they all had moved their gazes on him. He blinked a few times. He didn't know what he wanted, if anything at all. He only knew what he had once wanted, "I want to collect information and to learn; I want to see the world and figure out its secrets. But where I'll go, I don't know. But I have a feeling I'll know soon enough."
Yirn scoffed. "Have you then gotten word from your mother?"
Kanrel shrugged. "Not yet, but I suppose there won't be long until her reply arrives."
Yirn, for the first time in a while, smiled like he had smiled before, saying, "Good to hear." He then patted Kanrel on the shoulder as if it were natural for him to do so in that moment. And perhaps it was; Kanrel wasn't so sure what was natural, normal, or even usual.
They sat in silence for a while before Yirn chose to get up. "I've got some lifting to attend to," he said and stared at Kanrel for a while before adding, "You sure you don't want to learn a new set of skills? Do you not want to become more alluring?" He had that smile on his face again.
Kanrel found himself glancing at Uanna and coughed soon after. "Maybe next time…"
Yirn walked away while laughing warmly; even now, it was at times difficult to believe that he had gone through the Ritual. But it was easy to guess why he seemed so normal with his laughter—it was all a lie.
Kanrel wasn't certain about it, but he believed that there was a reason for him to have learned to laugh and smile like that. His life probably hadn't been the easiest of experiences, and it was much easier to laugh and smile it off than let oneself drown in sadness.
Everyone knew that they were considered lesser, barely humans, often subhuman. They didn't look different; they really weren't different at all. It was all just because of what had happened before and what those who didn't have a name were likened to.
Kanrel had been perhaps ten when he first read about the reasons why. A few hundred years ago, there had been a revolt against the crown and the Priesthood. It started with restlessness but soon turned into a war—a rebel movement. Those who were against the tyranny of the crown and didn't believe in the teachings of the Priesthood. In their eyes, they were heretics, and they did not represent the teachings of the Angels as they should have.
A decade of war, which was mostly fought in guerrilla warfare and involved attacking innocent bystanders. Something that started with blood had to also end in blood.
The rebels were all found; they were put into camps, and all the adults were killed; only the children remained. To wash away the sins of their fathers and mothers, they would have no names, and thus they became nameless.
Discrimination that had begun so long ago was still prevalent in society, even when there had been considerable reform in how the Priesthood and the crown treated them.
And most of the nameless today weren't even related to those who had been hundreds of years ago. They were just normal orphans who had been born to parents who weren't there for one reason or another.
Were the children truly to blame for something like that? Even back then? Were the sins of the fathers truly so great? Questions Kanrel had found himself asking many times, but never able to find an answer that satisfied. What the current nameless went through, he couldn't justify.
The day went by with them mostly spending time together, having dinner, and discussing the past months and the coming days. They even went shopping for things; they all needed more notebooks and ink because of the amount of writing they had to do. Not to mention the amount of writing that was still to come.
They visited many stores that were available in the southeast corner of the campus. Thanks to the city around them, there were many things that those shops could offer, and one of the shops that Kanrel had them visit was that of a carpenter's, one that specialized in furniture.
They entered together, and Kanrel led them around, looking for something. Uanna, Wen, and Yviev barely managed to keep up with him. He only stopped when he found what he had been looking for. A section of the shop, where a couch was displayed.
It seemed comfortable enough to sit on; it had red cushions and a dark, wooden frame. Kanrel nudged Uanna. "Is red good?"
Uanna blinked. "I suppose?"
Kanrel nod then pulled her with him, making her sit on it. Uanna's eyes had gone wide; she seemed baffled at best.
"Is it comfortable enough? Try lying down!" he urged her. Uanna didn't protest and did as she was told. "Sure?" she managed to say.
Kanrel nodded. "Wonderful," he muttered and turned around, his gaze searching for the shopkeeper. "Sir! Were getting this one!"
A few minutes later, they departed the shop, with Kanrel carrying the couch with a couple of codes. Uanna still seemed confused, but Yviev and Wen had already figured out what was going on.
The girls walked ahead, but soon Yviev slowed her step until she walked beside Kanrel. "You should've asked what her favorite color is," she whispered.
Kanrel came almost to a stop. He hadn't thought of that. "You should've told me before," Kanrel said with a frown.
Yviev snorted. "Don't expect me to give all the good tips just like that! Instead, ask and you shall receive the grace of my boundless wisdom," she said, patting him on the shoulder. She quickened her pace, reaching the two girls again.
Kanrel scoffed at her words. He was sure that her 'boundless wisdom' was just things she had read in one of the many novels she had consumed in her life. Surely the 'tips' that could be found there would prove to be useless.
They reached the dorms where Wen and Yviev first departed, and they entered their rooms with quick wishes for a good night.
Kanrel and Uanna were left alone, with a red couch, of course. They stood in the corridor, by the door of her room at the end of the corridor. Uanna shifted her foot. "Good—" she started.
"Open the door so that I can move the couch in," Kanrel cut her off, leaving her even more baffled than before. It took a moment, then she sighed. "You bought the couch for me?"
Kanrel nodded.
"Then I could've paid, I've plenty of—" she started again.
"I want you to sleep well." Kanrel cut her off again, but his tone was gentle this time. But his expression was firm as he stared at her.
Uanna blinked once and went for the door. She opened it, revealing her room. She stepped aside, allowing Kanrel to enter before him, with the couch. And when he did, he saw the blankets and the pillows lying on the floor, the place where she must have slept for weeks now. Kanrel placed Uanna's new couch in a way that she wouldn't have to sleep while staring at the bed.
Then, he couldn't help but look around the room. It wasn't at all how he had expected it to be. In his mind, a noble such as her would have a room that fitted her status. A lavish room with furniture made from the best materials, a massive mirror paired with a wardrobe filled with dresses and garments so expensive and varied that she could've worn a new one every day of the week for weeks.
But it was nothing like that. It was at least as frugal as his own room. The same furniture that he had, though now with an added couch.
There was also a lot of religious scripture, not just the usual Book of the Heralds that every novice and priest would've had, but also multiple commentaries about different sections of the Book of the Heralds. There was one Kanrel had read while trying to find mentions about the Otherkind. It especially focused on the First Herald and her achievements.
He wanted to look around further and pry what other books she had around, but he knew that it would be impolite to linger so late during the evening. He prepared to leave.
"Kanrel…" She said as he was about to walk out. Kanrel turned around to look at her and listen to what she had to say. "You know, before... I really wanted to... To know you... before the Ritual."
"But you were so unapproachable. So distant from everyone. Why were you so distant back then?" At first, she looked deeply into his eyes; her eyes were begging for an answer, and then she quickly looked down in shame.
Kanrel looked at her for a moment longer before answering. "I don't know, but I've learned to regret how I was before; how much I've missed and will never have the chance to experience and appreciate," he answered and gently placed his hand on her shoulder. She lifted her gaze, and they looked at one another.
"Uanna, you'll be fine; just don't give up, and everything will be fine." He lied—he knew he did—and now for the first time, smiling in a way that felt normal to look at. His hand departed her shoulder, and he left without looking back.
He retired to his own room, closing the door behind him. He sat on the floor, sliding down the door, his back against it. He buried his face in his hands, his fingernails carving into his skin. Was it wrong of him to lie to her?