That same night Nerissa went out to fetch a doctor to make sure the wound on my arm wasn't getting worse. To be honest I was hurting quite a bit, but I made sure not to show it.
The doctor's name was Keller. He was a man in his fifties, with a kind look and a calmer demeanour. His hands were covered in scars and old burns, as was common among his colleagues. In fact, although we only ever called him "the doctor," we knew he wasn't an ordinary physician. I personally suspected he was an apothecary of at least third level. Even without confirmation, we bought our healing potions from him and he was always willing to treat our wounds at reasonable prices. If my theory was correct, then I didn't know why Keller lived in the wall district instead of in a mansion serving some noble, but it was probably just a personality thing. He seemed relatively content with his work and, as far as I knew, he didn't desperately need money: his wife had died years before, and their only son had joined the imperial navy and spent most of the year aboard military ships.
The doctor examined me for about five minutes, shook his head and, cheerfully, pronounced, "It's not infected yet." Then, turning to Roland, "Good first aid, but it might not be enough in the future." While rummaging in his bag he added, "You should study with me for a few months. Medical knowledge is essential for the kind of work you do."
"I've already got too much on my plate right now," my friend apologized. "Never say never, though."
"As you like." Keller tossed me a small vial of ointment. "Spread it on the wound every evening for two days. Don't use that arm more than necessary."
Having confirmed it wasn't serious, I returned his smile. "How much do I owe you?"
"One gold lira for the whole vial. It'll last five days if you need more later."
After finishing the transaction and shaking hands as if to seal the deal, the doctor put a hand to his forehead and said one last thing before leaving the apartment: "Almost forgot, Captain Hendriks was looking for you."
"What does he want?" I asked without getting out of bed.
"No idea. Probably a job, if I had to guess." He waved, opened the door and disappeared down the stairs.
The rest of the night passed without incident. I didn't sleep well — as always after killing someone — but I rested enough to get up without trouble the next morning. Roland was already seated at the only table in the apartment, in the centre of the room where I slept, drinking from a cup. In front of him, dried meat and bread. He pushed a small board with some poor-quality cheese toward me.
"How does it work for you mages?" he asked as I sat down opposite him. "Do you have to find a teacher just to advance in rank, or also for spells?"
"You don't need a teacher for spells, not at second level in any case. I have no idea what Edelweiss was thinking when he made the system, but I imagine the logic is based on spell rank more than on your level. That said, I still need a teacher to progress in other skills." I made a broad gesture with my right arm to bring up my personal info. A parchment materialized out of nothing, straight into my hand. I spread it on the table. This was the text:
[Name - Séraphin
Family name - none recorded
Class - Mage
Specialty - Storm
Level - 2]
[Stats:
Resistance - 12
Strength - 10
Dexterity - 13
Will - 16
Insight - 11
Intelligence - 12]
[Life - 8/9 (previously 3/4)
Armor - 13 (10+3+0)]
[Trained in the following skills:
Mana detection - 1
Read Magic - 1
Identify - 1
1 unassigned point available]
[Class privileges:
Sorcery;
Mana Reserve - 20 (previously 10)
Ritual Magic (new!)]
[Specialty privileges:
Dancing on the shoreline;
Children of the Northern Winds]
[Known spells:
First rank:
Shock
Bind
A piece of luck
Control the Wind (new!)
Freeze Water (new!)]
[Talents:
On the edge of civilization]
After reading it all, I told Roland the changes without leaving anything out. He seemed lost in thought for a few minutes before commenting, "Could've been worse. Considering you only need a teacher for the new ability, it really shouldn't cost us too much."
"I also need someone to instruct me in rituals," I said, starting to eat. "I could do it alone, but it would take too long and I'd be taking unnecessary risks. Besides, public libraries around here are not that safe. Not if you're looking for arcane knowledge, at least."
"At least I don't need a lot either." He drank the last sip of what I assumed was tea. "The costs shouldn't be as bad as we feared, though I haven't asked Nerissa yet what she specifically needs. I'll look for someone for all of us down at the harbour when I go see Hendriks today."
That didn't surprise me much. We needed work if we wanted to recover the money we were about to spend. Hendriks commanded a small merchant vessel, but he occasionally had commissions for the city's adventurers, generally not too dangerous, modestly paid. He ran the most important jobs himself with his right hand man, which made me suspect he'd once been a second- or third-level adventurer. In recent months he'd given groups like ours more work than usual, perhaps because he was getting older and manual labour wasn't for him anymore.
"Good." I said. "I'll check the black market — we need to report to Wa'il tomorrow, there's still time."
"No, stay here and rest," Roland answered. "Take care of yourself and spend some time with Nerissa." Before I could protest he added, "If you want to go out I won't stop you, but promise me you won't get into trouble before the arm is fully healed."
I nodded weakly. "By the way, Nerissa…?"
"She's still sleeping. Let her do whatever she wants for today, that girl deserves it." He grabbed the leather armor and the swords we found yesterday, opened the door and, as he closed it behind him, said, "Again — don't do anything rash. Consider this an order."
I smirked to myself as I heard him go down the stairs. I was proud to serve a captain like that.