Certain things were difficult to get used to when working at the Catholicon. One being that not everyone could be saved, no matter how much you tried. It wasn’t often that they had an employee with Rak’keli’s blessing at their disposal, but that wasn’t a cure all for everything that came in through the door. Senri had heard stories, legends, about Healers with connections so close to the goddess that they could purge diseases from cities. Though those legends usually ended in the Healer losing their life due to how much was demanded of them to perform such actions. It wasn’t likely that the Catholicon would ever have such an individual among them. Such Healers usually sought out the suffering rather than waited for it to be brought to them.
What Senri hoped he’d never have to get used to was doing nothing when he held the cure in his pocket. Mentally, he willed that Teeryian would find the answer and soon. Horan was losing more of his pigmentation and Senri was going to need to act soon if Teeryian proved to be a slow reader or overlooked the answer. What made the prospect more unnerving was having to try and answer the mother’s distress should she learn that he was withholding her son’s cure for the sake of a Konti’s learning experience. In truth, he was already hating himself for doing it. Still, he did as he was instructed, though he suspected that he could only afford half a bell more before needing to resolve the situation himself.
It did not bother him that Teeryain was ignoring his story. The words were not meant for her ears anyway. They had been for the mother, to ease her spirit with a small bit of laughter. For Horan too, if he were able to understand anything that he was saying. The young boy looked as though he were sleeping and intended to sleep until the next Valterrian. Bedside manner was important in their profession. People were less likely to visit a doctor if they were curt and uncaring. Having a friendly disposition sometimes meant the difference between life and Dira’s visit.
Senri was about to begin on another story when the Konti began to speak. Whatever her trail of thought was, the assistant doctor did not understand. But then she turned around and displayed the page that he had been hoping that she would find. The illustration of the plant lacked color, but Senri would recognize that plant anywhere. One of the deadlier plants around Lhavit, which the Shinya thankfully worked hard at purging from the city. At Teeryian’s question, he stood up from the bedside. “I do yes. We might have some already mixed as well,” he said as he took a few steps towards the stairs. “Come with me and I’ll show you where to look,” he waved his arm in indication to follow as he spoke.
He made his way halfway down the stairs towards the reception area when he stopped to turn and look up at Teeryian. Senri kept a serious gaze on the Konti as he reached into his pocket and pulled out the vile Alessia had given him. The violet fluid sloshed around gently in the glass vial as he held it out to her. “The cure for Kuhari. Some venoms act so quickly that we try to keep a dose or two of those antidotes on hand. Otherwise the patients could pass while we’re mixing it together.” Senri indicated the third loft with his head. “Horan is one such case. Go and give him that now. He doesn’t have enough time for me to show you how to mix an antidote. Make sure that he swallows all of it too.”