OOCNot a nuisance, but I'm sorry for such a long, boring post. I don't have much experience writing medicine either. I figured it'd just be an thorough examination and those can be... Long and boring. Also I couldn't think of a good place to break it up... If you'd like Blythe to leave, feel free, or if you have anything to add or would like me to edit go ahead. 
The Konti woman sounded so certain, she had faith in her people and their abilities. Cilaes wished he felt the same, but it was difficult to believe in the powers of a people you had only just discovered. And the man couldn’t shake the feeling that this was not what he needed. Still he nodded to Blythe, and attempted not to sulk. As the two waited for someone to attend to them they fell into a brief silence. Cilaes felt no need to speak, in fact, he was getting rather tired of it; words didn’t seem to be uncovering any answers or solving any problems.
Though I suppose if I refused to speak it wouldn’t be of much help either. I would probably still be naked on the beach in fact. Still he didn’t speak, and instead occupied himself with the sheets. The fabric was soft and cool and felt refreshing as he ran a hand across the surface of the bed. Beneath his hand the little lumps and folds of cloths crumbled and twisted away, and then sprang up in a new pattern as the weight of his touch moved past. He enjoyed the chilly sensation of the sheets, it felt more familiar than the heat of the sunny day that had followed them on the beach. But even as Cilaes ran his hands across the fabric, savoring their coolness, his own body heat sank into them, and left them warmer. It was a disappointing exercise.
Cilaes hadn’t heard the woman approaching. She looked young, younger than Blythe at least, but had the same pale hair and fair skin as the woman who had found him. The most colorful part of her, her eyes, looked clouded as they flicked over him, examining the dark haired man that Blythe had indicated was her patient. Sitting between the two of them Cilaes realized his own hair and skin was so much darker, that though their skin glistened with delicate scale neither had dark green patterns that twisted around them, at least none that he could see. He realized just how different he was from these women.
These women who were waiting, waiting for him to answer. “I, uh… I’m not sure if you can. I’ve lost my memory,” he said softly, though not as quietly as the healer, “Blythe found me on the beach this morning. I have no recollection of how I arrived, or where I was before I came to be on your island.”
“We will help you,” she said in her gentle voice, “The Opal Temple is filled with the skilled healers of Rak’keli, of which I am one. I’m going to ask you some questions before I examine you, to help me know what to look for. There aren’t wrong answers, just tell me what you can, alright?” Cilaes nodded obediently.
Each question was direct, and clear, he was never confused about what the woman was asking, though at times Cilaes struggled to answer. “Before we begin, Blythe, you don’t need to stay here. If you feel like you may be able to help, you’re welcome, but if you would be more comfortable elsewhere, feel free to excuse yourself whenever you would like.”
The first of her questions were simple. “Does anything on your body hurt?”
–No. “Have you experienced any headaches this morning?”
–No. “Are you having any problems with your vision?”
–No. Here she asked him to follow her fingers, and moved them in a slow pattern in front of his face, apparently Cilaes passed the test. “Have you noticed any bruises or marks on your body?” –
Actually, yes.Cilaes rolled back his sleeve, revealing the twisted green and black ink that wound around his arm, wrist to shoulder. “I don’t know what these are,” he said, and as the words left him he sensed that they were something familiar, important but before he could remember the healer smiled.
It was a small smile, more a change in her pale eyes than a movement of the mouth. “Those aren’t any sign of injury Cilaes. They’re tattoos. Art someone placed on your body for you.”
–Oh. The dimples near her eyes faded for a moment as the healer thought about this, the patient’s memory was clearly damaged.
He ran a hand over his tattoos as she continued questioning him. The dark scars were raised slightly, creating a maze of delicate highs and lows across his skin.
Interesting... The questions were no longer about his body.
“What do you remember before being on the beach?”
–Being in the sea. “And how did you come to be in the sea?”
–I woke up there. The healer gave a thoughtful hum at this, but no contradiction to the claim a person could be in a state to wake up without drowning first. “How did you get to shore, Cilaes?
” –I swam. “Have you always known how to swim?”
–I… No, I don’t believe so. “How do you think you managed last night?”
–My lord, Leth saved me. He moved my limbs before I could begin to flounder, before I could begin to think. “And once you were on the beach? What else to do you remember about last night, before Blythe found you?”
It was when Cilaes washed up on the beach that he had had time to think. “I remember… Please, this will sound strange but my memories from last night feel different. They’re not the same as the ones I have from this morning. What I can recall from last night feels hidden, like it is beyond my reach or covered in some type of thick cloth that makes it hard to… know exactly what they should look like.” He paused here, and rubbed his hands across his face with a heavy breath before continuing.
“I remember standing in the waves and the moonlight. Everything was silver, but so… Dull. And I looked up into the sky where Leth shone. He was the only thing bright in the night, his face was the only thing I could see that wasn’t covered in a haze. And he was so… so far away, and the beach was so empty. I remember feeling horribly lonely, lost. I remember mourning until I slept but I’m afraid I don’t know why I felt like that.” Recalling the solitude of last night the despair he had felt returned to Cilaes. His gut felt heavy and the panicking sensation that the air in his throat would like to escape filled him. This time the man didn’t cry, but shut his eyes and breathed deeply.
You don’t know why you’re upset. There’s no reason to be upset until you at least remember the cause. Calm down and let the woman help you. His last breath shuddered slightly, but Cilaes was able to open his eyes and look at the woman calmly enough.
She paused, and the healer nearly frowned as though this was not an answer she had expected. But the look quickly left the woman, and her face returned to the calm, professional image of before. “Cilaes, we’re going to help you remember. Now, I’m going to look at your body a little to see if there’s any injury you haven’t noticed for some reason. We won’t give you a full exam right now, you seem fairly healthy, just a quick look over, if you don’t mind.”
“No, not at all.” With his consent she looked first at his head, glancing briefly at the two thin scars on his face before moving on. Old wounds were not what she was searching for. Her cloudy eyes moved about quickly, and through the white sheen they had a direct, purposeful gaze. The Konti woman ran gentle fingers through his hair, searching for bumps or tender places. She pressed gently on the soft flesh beneath his jaw, feeling the small glands and the soft vibrations of his throat. “Take a deep breath please.” Cilaes inhaled, her warm fingers pressed against the side of his throat. “Very good, now exhale.” He obeyed.
“There doesn’t seem to be anything wrong with your head. I’d like to check your chest to see if there are any signs of trauma, though it seems unlikely. If you wouldn’t mind removing your shirt?” He pulled the shirt off quickly, and set it on the white sheets. The two seemed to be made of the same fabric, and the garment was almost invisible.
His chest was broad and tanned and his skin bore many small thin scars like the ones on his face. The Konti paid no heed to these, instead asking him to lie on his back. She pressed firmly against his abdomen, feeling the movement of the soft tissues below, setting the pattern of his breathing with gentle commands. Asking him to sit up once more she felt his heart beat and listened to the sound of clear lungs, which showed no trace of having nearly drowned the night before. The healer’s face began to look puzzled, there was nothing wrong with this man who didn’t know what is own tattoos were. “I’m going to check your spine now, please turn around and sit up straight.”
Cilaes turned as he was told and the Konti’s lavender eyes widened ever so slightly. More tattoos wrapped around his hip and travelled in elegant knots up his spine.
That must have been a very painful day she thought, knowing how many sensitive nerves would have been right beneath the extensive needle work. But the same thought returned to her when she noticed the three huge scars that lay over the man’s muscular back. On one side of his spinal tattoo was a long slash that began at the center of his shoulder and curved away toward his hip. On the other side were two large knotted scars, looking like puncture wounds slightly larger than fists, or a place where great chunks of flesh had been torn away. Together, and next to the tattoo his back looked like a frowning face with a mustache had been drawn on it. The Konti refrained from touching the stiff tissue, and instead moved her hands down his neck and back, feeling each vertebra for damage like she was supposed to. But she couldn’t pass over these wounds like she had the small marking on his front. “Where did you get these scars?” she asked, her voice a quieter than before.
“What scars?” Cilaes asked, staring at the sheets in front of him.
“You-you have three large scars on your back. You don’t remember receiving them?”
He shook his head as she finished examining his spine and told him to put his shirt back on. The healer looked almost frustrated. “There’s nothing physically wrong with you, which is good, but I’m afraid I can’t supply you with an answer either. I couldn’t find any signs of trauma, you're amnesia must have a source other than physical.”
