A Gamer's Guide 248 (Patreon)

Emil took a seat on the little girl’s bed. He tried to take her dainty little hand in his, but she drew it away. His smile didn’t even budge. “What’s your name?”

“Mitt,” she said. “I told the angel so before. But you were busy screaming.”

‘Ouch,’ Emil thought. “Mitt,” he repeated. “I’m sorry about the way I acted today. Seeing you in such a state made me act unprofessionally.” Arms crossed, pouting, she turned away from him. “I want to make it up to you. I really do. But I can’t let you throw your life away. Dying for your brother is a noble end, but do you really think he would like that? To wake up from death, only to find his sister dead? His one and only connection to the world?” Even though her face was turned away from him, he could see her tremble. “And to make it worse, to learn that she died to save him, when there were other alternatives?”

Her shoulders twitch. “I… I just don’t want Pinn to die like mommy and daddy and Vie.”

“Of course you don’t. I don’t want him to die either. To be completely honest, even if we find a donor, I can’t promise that it’ll work. This is new for all of us. But, what I do know…” He reached out, and she let him hold her hand. “Is that when he wakes up, he’ll want his sister by his side. Will you do that? Will you live for his sake?”

“Yes,” she answered. Now her face turned to him, eyes filled with glistening tears. “Yes, I will.”

Emil smiled. “Good.”

He sat at her side for a few minutes longer. They talked about various things—about who she was, how their house had ended up in that state, about her brother… It was a simple conversation, and by the end, Emil found himself making small jokes with her, bringing her to smile and laugh, despite the weight hanging over the room.

After less than half an hour, there was a knock at the door. Emil called for them to enter, and Kitty carefully ambled his way inside, a bloated, bandaged goblin in his arms. Emil recognized him as Horm Tanner, who had reacted with a sigh of relief when Kitty diagnosed him with less than a week left to live. At the moment, he had a vaguely victorious look on his exhausted face, almost triumphant at the idea of getting to die days earlier than nature intended. Without waiting for the room’s atmosphere to catch up with his bright mood, Horm turned a content eye to Pinn. “That’s the one, eh? You sure he’ll last until you’ve wrangled my heart out of me, hoeksok?”

“Pretty sure,” Kitty answered absently, turning to look at Emil. He seemed to be on the verge of a shrug, but doing so while holding a terminally ill patient wasn’t the best idea, so he restrained it to a slight frown.

Had Kitty brought just about anyone else, Emil would have wanted to interview them for a minimum of ten minutes to ensure that they were doing this out of their own volition. Now, instead, he simply patted Mitt on the hand, stood up, walked over to them and shook the donor’s hand. “Thank you for agreeing to this, Horm. It is beyond noble of you to—”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ve heard enough from this hoeksok of an assistant—just get it over with already, you hear?”

Emil swallowed any other words he was about to speak. “I see. Yes… Sorry. Thank you. I’m…” Horm gave him a stern cock of the brow. “Right. Got it.” During the course of a split-second, Emil surveyed the room, realized that everyone was looking at him for leadership, and equally quickly came to decide what ought to be done. With solemn steps, he approached Mitt’s bed, where he knelt down to her level. “Mitt, can you walk? I don’t think you’ll want to be in the room when your brother gets better.”

“But—but I…” She almost seemed as though she wanted to fight more, but in the end, trusting his words, she slipped out of bed. She stumbled slightly, but Emil was able to keep her upright. He led her towards the hallway. Though, before he left, he turned back briefly, his eyes meeting Horm’s impatient gaze. “Sir—would you like your body crystallized after death?”

“Like what that doctor does to some of the deaddies?” Horm said. Emil nodded sideways. Horm hummed for a second, rubbing his chin. “Yeah, alright. If the kid wants something to bounce back with after this, I guess he can have the rest of me, heh.”

“Good—thank you. And…” Emil almost choked. “Goodnight, Horm.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Horm said, waving Emil away. “I’ll be looking down at you soon enough, just you wait.”

Before Emil closed the door, he caught Fennrick’s gaze. “Before you do anything… I’ll go get Benevil. I don’t want Mitt to enter a room with a corpse in it, and… and I don’t think Pinn should wake up to that, either.”

“Yeah,” Fennrick said. “I agree.”

Emil left to do just that, bringing Mitt with him for the ease of things. It took less than a few minutes to find the apostle, who was overjoyed at the prospect of getting to see the fabled martyr-making skill in action. “However,” he said, “are you sure you’re okay with it, Moleman? This is little removed from euthanasia, with the added benefit of—”

“I know what it is,” Emil shot back. “I’ve made my choice. It’s a one-time thing, so… Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, okay?” But they both knew this wasn’t the type of procedure that could be done only once. It was bound to spread. But now, here, Benevil let Emil remain in his self-made delusion.

They returned to the room. Benevil and Emil both made to enter, only for Kitty to give Emil a strange look. “Why are you…?”

Emil, having prepared himself for this question, drew himself up to his full height. “It’s my duty as his doctor. If I am to send him to the grave, then it’s my responsibility to be at his side when it happens. To not watch the consequences of my decision would be—”

Kitty pointed to Mitt, standing just outside the door. “I think you should stay with her.” He smiled softly. “She needs you more than he does right now.”

“But—but I…” Emil stammered, and realized with some measure of irony that he was in the exact same position Mitt had been in only a few minutes earlier. Scoffing at his own hubris, he backed out of the door. “Yeah, you’re right.” He mirrored his friend’s smile. “Good luck in there, okay?”

“Good luck out there,” Kitty returned, breaking into a grin. “I’ll be just fine. This won’t take long.”

Emil nodded gratefully. He didn’t have to say anything else, but if only because he felt the need to say it, he added, “And… and remember that this was my decision. Not yours. Whatever you do now… It isn’t your fault.”

The expression Kitty gave him in turn was a confused mixture of amusement and apprehension. “Sure, man. I’ll see you soon.”

“Right, right. Bye, Kitty,” Emil finally said, closing the door. And now, everything felt empty again. The hallway wasn’t exactly dark thanks to his magical disc of light, but the sudden lack of voices, the removal of presences… It made his skin crawl. It made him—

A little hand grabbed the edge of his robe. He looked down to find Mitt looking up at him, her face the picture of worry.

He drew her closer and smiled. “He’ll be okay. My friend is the best at this kind of stuff. You’d do better worrying about a dragon attacking.”

She giggled. And as he held her close, the time passed, and soon enough, it was all over.

They could hear voices coming from inside, sometimes. Mumbled, male voices, talking quietly. First three, then two. The realization that he’d heard someone’s last words without even being able to tell what they were made Emil’s blood run cold. A few more minutes, and among the two voices, there was a new one—a small, anxious little voice.

The second they heard this voice, Emil and Mitt exchanged a look before cautiously opening the door. The room looked the same as before, except that now, there was a small red gem in Benevil’s hand, and the little pained hump in the other bed had been replaced by an energetic little boy, more confused than anything, asking about his parents and siblings. Seeing him, Mitt ran across the room, leapt into his bed and hugged him so tightly he might have broken something. “Mitt? Mitt, what’s going on? Where am I? Where’s mom? And Vie? What’s with the bandages? Why…”

But she couldn’t answer him, because she was far too busy screaming in despair and delight, her throat producing sobs that might have been laughter and laughter that might have been sobs, nuzzling her tear and mucus-covered face into his chest and neck. Seeing her in such a state was apparently more startling than any of his other questions, as he turned to the three adults in the room with a look on his face that simply begged for answers. Unfortunately, the only expressions that met him were mild smiles, like that of a mother holding her newborn after a long and arduous birth.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Mitt wailed weakly into his hospital gown. “They’re—oh, Gods, I’m so happy you’re alive, Pinn, oh, oh Gods…”

And as could happen when held by someone crying in soul-wrangling despair, Pinn eventually found himself crying as well, hugging his sister as tightly as she was hugging him, not because he knew why she was crying, but simply because her despair touched him more than words could. Only once the two of them had calmed down a little could the situation be explained properly. Pinn’s reaction was mainly one of shock. Though, with the floodgates already opened, he didn’t find it too hard to cry—his sister now being the one to comfort him.

Horm’s gem was given to him, once he understood the sacrifice that had been made for his sake. Benevil was quick to explain the usage of it. “If you turn it in to this jeweler I know, you’ll be able to earn around five-hundred—”

“No!” Pinn had bellowed. “No. No, this is…” He clutched the gem close to his chest. “He left this for me. I… I will cherish it for the rest of my life. He gave his life for me, for someone he didn’t even know. To sell it would be…”

“But how will you survive?” Benevil asked kindly—or maybe cruelly. “The house is dilapidated. Even if we didn’t charge you two for the beds you’ve occupied, and the healing you’ve received, you still have nothing. How will you pay for the hospital bills, alongside everything else?”

“I have my body,” Mitt said, bravely. “I can do like mommy did, and then we can live somewhere, and…”

“You think that’s enough?” Benevil asked, and now Emil had no illusions of this being anything but cruel.

Emil turned on him. “Benevil, please—”

“It… it has to,” Mitt said, her voice hoarse and broken from all the crying. “If it isn’t…”

“Which it won’t be,” Benevil said, finishing her sentence, his eyes gleaming callously, “then I guess you’ll just have to work it back.” Emil, who had been five inches from strangling the goblin, suddenly fell back, a confused frown marring his face. Grinning, Benevil approached the two orphans. “Oh, yes. Here’s what you can expect: three square meals a day. Soft beds, nice clothes, and plenty of time for rest and relaxation.” The sister and brother duo stared at him in sheer perplexion. “Yes, indeed! As the apostle of cruelty, I shall take you in. I will fatten you up with kindness, until you become so good and sweet that the patients of this hospital will dread their demise, as it will separate them from your lovely smiles!”

Mitt turned to Emil with a quizzical look. Emil shrugged. More interested in figuring out what Benevil was saying, Emil focused his attention on him until he caught his eye. “So, what you’re saying is… You’ll give them room, feed them, keep them clothed, in exchange for letting them work under you?”

“Yes. Nothing too strenuous, of course—simple duties, like changing bandages and checking up on the patients. Not to mention daily offerings in the form of prayers and rites to the God of Cruelty, of course.”

In the bed, Mitt held her brother closer. “Would you really do that for us, doctor? Let us stay, for nothing…?”

“Of course!” Benevil cheered. “I’ll make your lives a delight, and when I eventually die… Oh, my benefactor will be much pleased, I assure you.”

The siblings were confused, but with only a brief glance shared, they agreed.

As the evening had grown rather late, Emil and Kitty left the newly formed trio with a few goodbyes, entering into the night with strangely contradicting feelings.

And, soon enough, they returned home.