DB Lazarus
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58. Acquired Immunity - II
🕑 Added 2025-03-23 02:00:02 +0000 UTCI had taken longer than I should have in the bath. By the time I had left, the sun had long set. Dinner was wrapping up. My food had long since become cold. The only consolation was that nobody was around to bother me when I ate it. Still, I ate quickly. The other welcome surprise this evening was a note from Kyria Rhaptis. She had finished my jacket and scrubs.
The walk toward Kyria Rhaptis wasn’t long, but the entire time, the back of my neck tingled. It was different than with the assassin spiders, but I kept checking behind me. However, I only found long shadows cast by the light stones scattered around the camp.
I let out a sigh of relief when I knocked on the door and Kyria Rhaptis opened it. “Hi, I hope I am not too late.”
She scowled. “I have a gift worth a king’s ransom, and you come at this hour?” Regardless, she still stepped aside to let me in.
I entered without bothering to respond and followed her to the table on which my white coat and scrubs lay.
“They are done?” They appeared completely unchanged, just cleaner.
“Did you expect something else?”
I had donated a lot of blood, but I couldn’t find a trace of brown on them. The light blue of the scrubs also didn’t have a single stain. “I don’t know. Maybe some markings?”
She just shook her head. “They are not attuned, and even if they were, you aren’t activating them. Trust me, they are primed.”
I reached out, then hesitated. “Can I touch them?”
“They are yours.”
I grabbed the white coat and then dropped it immediately when it shocked me. I gave her a frown, but it did nothing to chastise her.
Kyria Rhaptis laughed. ”That never gets old.”
“What was that?” The shock was more of a surprise than painful. It was similar to the surge when I channeled Energy.
“Grab it again, and don’t let go. It is trying to form a connection. It is, after all, part of you.”
I followed her directions, this time taking it with both hands. My hands thrummed with energy. The intensity increased to the edge of what I would register as pain before stabilizing. It then crept up my arms until it reached my head.
“Don’t let go.” I could barely make words through the throbbing in my head. “I didn’t realize you leveled, and a threshold at that.” She didn’t hold back any of her admonishment.
“Sorry to—“ I tried for a sarcastic quip, but pain cut me off. My heart raced, my vision swam as the pain escalated. I could only close my eyes and ride it out. Just when I thought I would have to let go, something gently pressed against my awareness. As quickly as it came, it vanished—along with the pain.
She watched me closely when I opened my eyes. “Good. You did it. It would have been inconvenient to have to redo this work.”
“I could have broken it?”
“No, but some people can’t handle the attunement process.”
“But you said it’s part of me.”
“It is. However, you have changed, breached a tier, and it hasn’t.”
“Is it alive?”
She gave me another long look. “You have an interesting way of viewing things. Some would say it’s alive, but all would say it is far from sentient—more like a plant. Regardless, it doesn’t want to change, and it pushes back.”
“Could I change? Lose my level?”
“Of course not. That would be like a person trying to push a mountain. They can change the mountain a minuscule amount, but if the mountain decides to push back…” She shrugged. “Doesn’t mean it isn’t painful. Really, you should have held off on hitting your next level.”
I gave her a flat look. “An Ættar was dying. Also, how was I supposed to know? You didn’t exactly give me instructions.”
She just waved away my excuse. “When you pick up this tunic and trousers, hold the jacket in the other hand. It will help diminish the unpleasantness.”
She was right. The process with my scrub top and bottoms went far smoother as if my white coat was carrying the brunt of the synchronization. In minutes, I had finished the process.
I held up my new items. “Do I need to do anything to activate them?”
She snorted. “Like I said, there is nothing to activate yet. Think of them as a blank slate. They will grow with you, enhancing the skills you use frequently. I can’t emphasize enough how lucky you are to have something like this. Every one of your skills is so fresh. I imagine most will transfer into your clothing—and quite quickly at that.”
“And that doesn’t happen with people at higher levels?”
“It is less certain. This process primes your gear to accept skills. With more skills, there is more competition. Key skills are favored, but they aren’t guaranteed, especially if the material favors certain skills. At your level, you have so few skills that you are guaranteed to have all your key skills primed. This would have happened even if this cloth wasn’t so receptive to an essence enchantment. With it, it is all but guaranteed.”
“But you have control over the material choice.”
“To an extent, but you will find acceptable materials can be few and far between.” She waved me to a divider set up in the corner. “I left your new undergarments with [Self-Cleaning], [Self-Mending], and [Regulate Temperature], which is better than [Warmth]. You’re welcome by the way. You will need to add energy and possibly material for the repair, but [Self-cleaning] and [Regulate Temperature] are passive except in the most extreme circumstances. I think you will likely find they remain cleaner than you do.”
“I bathed before coming here.”
“For that, my nose thanks you.”
I laughed at that last jab. She fitted the mold of a cranky old crone to a tee, not that I would ever dare voice it. “If I damage my white coat and scrubs, how will I repair those without having cotton?”
“They are part of you. A bit of your blood will be enough for most damage. If it is significant, then you will need to give it organic matter. The further you deviate from the material, the more time it will take. Cotton will always be the best option and, at your tier, perhaps the only one. So don’t damage it.”
“So don’t break it, but if I do, try wool?”
She nodded. “I did take the liberty of removing the lettering on your jacket. It won’t impact your coat’s function, and I can use the fabric in case you need repairs. I can replace it if needed, but it seemed prudent to remove all traces of your…origin.”
My mouth went dry. Of course, no one would recognize the English lettering, which would raise its own set of questions.
“Thank you. That was a great idea, and I doubt my institution will care.”
She gave me a knowing smile. “My pleasure. Now go try them on.”
I grabbed my clothes and moved behind the divider to change. My replacement undergarments, including a pair of socks, lay on a short stool. A quick inspection revealed that they were a higher grade of wool—something like cashmere versus whatever cheap stuff was used to make winter hats. I kicked off my boots and stripped down. I threw on my undergarment. She hadn’t even measured me, but she nailed my size perfectly. My scrubs went next. They still fit, though the drawstring cinched tighter than I remembered. I followed by buttoning my white coat, but I stalled before the last button.
How many years had I done this exact routine of buttoning up my coat even after life had thrown me curveball after curveball?
I looked up at the ceiling, squeezing my eyes shut. Memories came back to me: of trading away a short white coat for a long one, of the disdain that gripped me when I had to don one because the surgical suites were no longer an option, and of adoring my coat with safety pins and a reflex hammer when I settled into my neurology residency. So many changes, each adding to my knowledge and experience. And for what? To be beaten senseless and despised?
I let out a long breath. I had saved people. Even in this world with everything stripped away, I had saved someone or, at least, had helped. That meant something…I had also been about to trade it all away.
Except, I no longer had that option. More importantly, a [Physician] was different than a physician. I could heal—really heal—without any red tape or a messy system to get in the way.
No one else could have kept the Hærlið alive. I didn’t finish the job, but I made sure someone else could. I had been in that role before in the ICU. I may not prefer it, but better than doing nothing. If I had to deal with being despised and constant harassment by—
Kyria Rhaptis called out to me. “It shouldn’t take that long to change. Everything should fit perfectly.”
I clenched my fist. I should be past this now.
I shook off my mini-existential crisis, making sure none of it showed. I stepped out from the divider so that she could see her work. “It does. They fit better than before.”
She nodded in approval. “It should. I made some adjustments to better fit you. I couldn’t see how this was considered a uniform, but now, with some proper tailoring, I get it. It looks quite sharp, commanding even.”
“Thank you. Also,” I lifted my pant leg, “thank you for the socks.”
“You are welcome. The cotton was far more versatile and powerful than expected.” She waggled a finger at me. “And don’t you dare think about trying to renegotiate our deal since I let that tidbit slip. Consider the socks a small measure of my gratitude. After all, it isn’t every day a Human walks into my door with such unique offerings.”
I just shook my head. “I am well aware of just how good this deal was for me.”
“Great. Now that is all done, I believe our transaction is complete.”
“I guess so.” I paused. “You haven’t by any chance found a [Mage] that could help me.”
She shook her head. “I have floated it to a few, but none has done more than listen.”
I sighed. “Thanks. I guess I can see if Ættir have any options.”
“The Vísir would be the one to ask.”
Of course, the Vísir. Because nothing in my life could be easy.
She gave me a wistful smile. “Sorry, but it is true. She’s the only one powerful enough to do it. Even then, it would probably really tax her.”
“Wonderful. That will definitely help my odds, but at least I have a reason to visit her.” She raised an eyebrow, but I just shook my head. “Long story.”
“Then I don’t want to hear it.” Before I could respond, she had already returned to her work.
I exhaled sharply. Really?
I looked between her and my new wardrobe.
Can’t say it wasn’t a positive experience, and at least I won’t be leaving empty-handed.
***
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