Chapter 83: Through Phane City
They passed a woman seated at a piano that had somehow been positioned on a street corner. Her fingers moved across the keys with fluid grace, drawing out a melody that carried over the ambient noise.
Around her stood a group of women, five of them, and they were arranged in a semicircle. They sang in harmony, their voices blending into something that made heads turn as people passed.
"They sound so good." Marie says.
"I agree." Reinhard says with a chuckle.
Martha laughs and says. "I love coming here during my lunch to listen to all of them."
Further down the same street, other groups waited with visible impatience. One cluster consisted of men holding instruments such as a violin and a flute. Another group appeared to be acrobats, stretching and warming up their bodies while eyeing the piano player’s performance with a grin.
Marie’s eyes lit up, her hand rising to point them out. "They’re waiting for their turn! So you all don’t play at once? That’s nice, give each performer the chance to captivate everyone instead of competing."
Martha nodded with a smile. "Street performance is one of the best professions around here. Whether you are a singer, a magician setting up an amazing trick for the crowd, or even a storyteller. As long as it’s interesting enough, it can make gold here."
Reinhard blinked in surprise before smiling at Martha’s words, before looking back out.
The carriage continued deeper into the city. They passed a marketplace where vendors called out their wares from stalls that had fabrics, foods, household goods, and jewelry.
Customers moved between stalls, examining goods, negotiating prices, and completing transactions that involved both coin and conversation.
Children ran through the streets in small packs, weaving between adults with a grin on their faces. Some chased each other in games whose rules were known only to them. Others clustered around a man who was performing some kind of trick with colored brushes. Reinhard smiled at this sight, both surprised and a bit happy that children were just being children.
As the carriage continued, he saw a woman walking past carrying dozens of flowers in her arms. She had a look of contentment as she pressed her face near them and smelled them while walking. Then there were two men standing arguing near a doorway, but it drew no attention from passersby.
The carriage turned down a wider street where buildings grew slightly grander. Here, the stone facades showed more elaborate carving, and some structures featured balconies from which people could observe the street below. Flowering vines climbed several buildings, adding green and color to the white stone.
Hope Salvation Clinic.
A clinic sign became visible ahead with the symbol of a hand from the left and right cradling multiple flowers, painted in white and gold. The building for the sign was a three-story one with large windows that would let in abundant light.
"Stop, we are here," Martha called out.
The carriage slowed, pulling to the side near the clinic’s entrance. The wheels settled against cobblestones with a final creak.
Through the window, Reinhard could see that the clinic’s entrance was a double door painted deep blue, and a bench beside the steps leading up. The building’s ground-floor windows showed movement inside, with shadowy figures walking past them constantly.
Martha was already gathering her bag, preparing to exit. Marie bounced slightly with barely contained energy, eager to explore this new city despite the circumstances that had brought them here.
Joseph stirred on his bench, color having returned to his face. His eyes opened, clearer than they’d been since the injury.
The carriage door opened, and they stepped out before heading to the stairs. They then headed up the stairs after walking up the stairs and pushed open the door before entering.
They entered the clinic together with Joseph, not needing anyone to carry him. The interior opened into a reception area with pale walls that caught natural light from large windows.
Patients occupied chairs along the walls as they waited for their turns, but what struck Reinhard immediately was their expressions. There was a woman sitting down with a book in her hand and reading with a relaxed expression.
Two elderly men conversed quietly, one laughing at something the other said. Children played on the floor near their parents, their movements unhurried and content.
Why... Why do they look so happy in here? Reinhard thought in surprise.
Martha moved through the space with easy familiarity, and immediately nurses gravitated toward her.
A young woman in a white uniform approached first, her face carrying questions. "Doctor Valkyrie, the burn patient in room three is asking about-"
"Tell them we’ll adjust the dressing schedule," Martha interrupted gently. "Every six hours instead of eight. The skin needs more frequent attention at this stage."
The nurse nodded, already turning to go.
Another nurse appeared, this one older with greying hair pulled back severely. "The shipment from the Bolner supplier-"
"Leave it near the elevator at the back, the workers on the night shift will deal with it. And then the morning shift will check through the report to make sure everything needed for the day is there." Martha stated without pause.
The nurse smiled slightly. "Already done. Just wanted confirmation."
"Good work, Nia." Martha said with a smile.
A third nurse who looked like she had just reached her twenties approached hesitantly. "Doctor, I’m not sure about the suturing technique for-"
"I’ll demonstrate after I see to our guests," Martha said immediately with a gentle look. "Wait in room five. Get the practice materials ready."
The young nurse’s face brightened with relief and gratitude before she hurried off.
Martha continued walking, leading them deeper into the clinic. They passed open doorways that offered glimpses into treatment rooms.
Reinhard glances inside to see a nurse wrapping a bandage around two twin little girls, perhaps six years old. Their legs were being treated for what looked like scrapes, but instead of tears or frightened faces, both girls smiled. One was telling the nurse about something, her hands gesturing rapidly while the nurse listened with real interest, her hands continued their practiced work.
The scene made something twist in Reinhard’s chest.
His mind pulled him backward without permission, dragging him to the orphanage and then to the clinic they’d visited every three years for mandatory health checks.
He remembered the grey walls that seemed to absorb light rather than reflect it. The disgusting smell of medicine was so strong that it burned the inside of his nose. The waiting room where children sat in silence, their faces white and trembling in fear.
He remembered being told they needed dental checks. Remembered the dread that announcement created, how Anna had grabbed his hand tightly, and how Klein had gone completely still beside him.
The treatment rooms in Lily Town had been different, but still the same crappy experience. No smiles, no gentle conversations, only efficiency bordering on brutality. Their mouths were forced open, instruments that hurt their skin, and procedures done without explanation or care for the terror they created.
An open door flashed past in his peripheral vision, but his mind replaced it with memory. A different door, a different room, and his younger self, who was nine years old seated in a chair while a nurse prepared injections.
The needles had seemed impossibly large while the liquid in the vials had been cloudy.
Anna and Klein had been waiting outside. He’d heard Anna crying through the door, but it wasn’t from pain but the fear of what was coming. He’d forced himself to smile when they brought her in next. Had held her hand and told her it wouldn’t hurt much, and had lied with every word because the truth would have made it worse.
Afterwards, he held both of them while they cried. Anna had bruises on her arm from where the nurse had gripped too hard. Klein had thrown up from whatever they’d injected with his body shaking.
Reinhard had tried researching alternative methods that might cause less pain and medicines that might be gentler. He’d used himself as a test subject when he could manage it, volunteering for experimental treatments if they promised reduced discomfort and money.
Sometimes it helped, but often it didn’t.
But that had been normal.
That had been medical care as he understood it, necessary suffering and endured because health required it.
Which was why seeing these children smiling made him tremble and create a dissonance in him.