(Nathan)

  Dyn grunted, struggling to sit up and yank the tattered shirt over his head. Nathan’s heart twinged with sympathy—poor medical care on Dirt had taken its toll on Dyn. He would do whatever it took to help the man regain his health and ie smoothly into life on Xel’oria. Ohe shirt was off, Dyn slumped back down as Nathan eased the bed into a ft position.

  Dyn rolled on his side. “I’m ready.”

  “I’m unfamiliar with human anatomy,” Windlock said. “And the work has nothing useful. you show me where your kidneys are? An approximate location will do.”

  Dyn poio the middle of his baear his spine, gesturing to both sides.

  “This might tickle.” Windlock’s cwed hand hovered near Dyn’s lower back, her gaze steady.

  “Ah—ha-ha!” Dyn twisted forward, ughter spilling out in short bursts.

  “Try to remain still,” Windlock said.

  “Sorry.” Dyn squirmed slightly, his grin sheepish. “I’m really ticklish.”

  “I’d say—I haven’t even touched you yet.” Windloarrowed her eyes in thought. “Let’s try another approach.” Before Dyn could respond, she spped her hand ft against his back, pinning him in pce. He winced in surprise, but didn’t squirm gle.

  “Good. Now I’ll reposition my hand.” She expined each step as she performed it.

  Nathan observed his colleague at work. Everyone had their owhods, but hers was anding—she preferred issuing statements over making requests.

  “You’ll feel vibrations. They won’t hurt.” Windlock adjusted her hand behind Dyn’s kidney. “Let’s give your mind something else to focus on—just in case it tickles.” Her other hand gripped his arm with steady, firm pressure.

  Dyn’s eyes drifted shut, his body visibly rexing. “Wow, that feels kind of nice.” His voice wavered with the hum of vibrations. “Like a sonic massager.”

  Windlock made micro adjustments to the angle of her hand. “I’m expl your chest cavity using ultrasonic vibrations—”

  Dyn perked up, cutting her off mid-sentence. “You’re like a magic ultrasound mae.”

  Windlock tightened her grip slightly. “Please refrain from interrupting me during the procedure.”

  Dyn wilted under her grip. “Sorry.”

  “I’ve located the deposits and will begin breaking them up. You’ll feel intense vibrations—it might hurt.”

  “Hurt? What—” Dyn’s words cut off as his eyes rolled back, his entire body shuddering uhe onsught of vibrations. Staccato ‘aaahs’ escaped him, reverberating through the room as Windlock tinued her work.

  She eased her hand away, satisfied with her work. “I’ve cleared all the deposits.”

  “Thank you for your help,” Nathan said.

  “No.” Windlock smiled. “Thank you.” She was already adding notes about her new procedure to the work. “You always brihe most fasating cases.”

  “Wow, that was amazing. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this rexed in my entire life.” Dyn flopped onto his back, a satisfied grin spreading across his face. “I should get kidones more often.”

  “No, you definitely shouldn’t.” Windlock rose from her seat, heading to wash her hands. “Nathan, have you e up with a pn to improve his diet?”

  Nathan raised his hands in surrender. “He’s on fk now.”

  “Fk?” Windlock’s sharp gaze swept over Dyn. “You ’t beat that for nutrients. Holy, anything would be better than whatever he was eating on…” She paused, gng at her tablet.

  “Don’t say it,” Dyn groaned, rubbing his temples.

  Her lips curled slightly as she found what she was looking for. “Dirt.”

  “Infernal Mother…” Dyn exhaled i.

  Windlock excused herself, slipping out to tinue her rounds.

  Nathan raised the bed into a sitting position and refilled Dyn’s mug. “You’ll o drink plenty of fluids.” Nathan’s stomach growled—a remihat he’d fotten to eat again, as usual.

  Dyn arched an eyebrow, gng at Nathan’s stomach. “Was that you?”

  “Yes.” Nathan sighed. “Not all of us have access to a elven pi supplements…”

  “Go get something to eat,” Dyn said, taking a sip from his mug.

  Nathaated—he didn’t want to leave, but Dyn was right. “Will you be okay if I grab a quick bite?”

  “I’ll manage.” Dyn’s gaze wandered around the room. “Got any magazines or books about magic I read while yone?”

  Nathan pursed his lips in thought, gng over at his desk. Medical reference books sat alongside a few c books he kept for children, though he doubted Dyn would be ied. ‘Well… maybe the c books.’ He gave a small shake of his head. “Sorry, not unless you’re up for learning about alien anatomy—or doing some c.”

  “It’s fine.” Dyn shrugged casually. “After that massage, I’m ready for a nap.” He let his eyes drift shut.

  “Alright, but no wandering around this time.” Nathan switched off the overhead lights. ‘Should I close the blinds too? No—what if he gets up again? ’t have him hurting himself in the dark.’ He started to ask if Dyn was sure about being alone, but the soft rumbles of sleep apnea answered him—Dyn was already sn.

  Nathan headed toward the cafeteria. Physis weren’t the only professionals at the hospital—agriculturists, alchemists, artists, architects, and chefs all held service-based tracts, just like rounds. Professional adventurers were arguably the most valuable, providing services and goods powered by magic. Creating items for the League’s lootbox system wasn’t their only option faining experience or tracts.

  Most guilds offered an orb as a sign-on bonus for anyone pursuing that archetype. Yet, despite these iives, the professional archetype cked the prestige of bat-focused ones—like corruptor, brawler, or summoner—making it a less popur choice.

  Nathan had always cared more about helping others than hunting monsters. When he came of age under Nightshade’s stewardship, accepting the Physi orb was an easy choice. His diagnostic abilities not only beed others but also allowed him to save enough to buy his younger brother Dorian’s first orb—since Dorian had no i in being a professional.

  The cafeteria, like all hospital services, en to the publiathan stepped aside, letting a drai family with a hungry child take his p line. He smiled as they chose their meal, knowing his pescetarian dishes were safe from most drai pates—they favored heartier meats enriched with minerals.

  Nathan leased to find baked sunstone darter on the menu—a local catch renowned for its fvor. The fish’s fky texture paired perfectly with zesty citrus notes. After finishing his steamed vegetables, Nathan leaned ba his chair, sav the pleasant fullness in his stomach. Fetting to eat was a side effect of his tendency to hyperfocus, never a deliberate choice—he loved food too much for that.

  Magically prepared food and drink offered buffs along with nourishment. This dish, for instance, enhanathan’s swift attribute for a full day, sharpening his digital dexterity—an invaluable boost for precise procedures and surgeries. However, food buffs didn’t stack; they overwrote each other, so eating mundane food for the rest of the day kept the preferred bonus.

  Nathan stood, scraping the leftovers from his pte into the post bin and pg his soiled kitware in a tub by the exit. With his owaken care of, it was time to che Dyn.

  A powerful stench met Nathan in the hallway, just outside his office. ‘It smells like a stable in here,’ he thought, his nose wrinkling in disgust. He moved toward the window behind his desk, ready to throw it open, but stopped when he saw a sad, shirtless, chubby man sitting on the edge of the bed, his hands folded in his p. Dyn hung his head, staring at his feet.

  flickered across Nathan’s face as he tilted his head. “Dyn?”

  Dyn’s shoulders slumped even lower as he mumbled, “I couldn’t find a door.”

  Nathan arched an eyebrow. “Is everything alright? Why do you need a door?”

  Dyn shifted unfortably on the edge of the bed, his gaze fixed on his feet. “To open and close. I didn’t realize your office doesn’t have a door.”

  “None of the offices have doors. But ull the curtains if you want some privacy.” Nathaured toward the curtains and the track above the doorway.

  “Oh.” Dyn released a long sigh. “Would’ve been good to know that earlier. Some privacy would’ve been nice.”

  Nathan’s eyes narrowed, a frown tugging at his lips as he tried to piece it together. “What are you talking about?”

  Dyn finally lifted his head, his gaze drifting toward the er of the room. Nathan followed it. Nothing was there—except the bucket.

  Nathan’s expression stiffened with sudden realization. ‘Oh no,’ the thought hit him. ‘He doesn’t know how the buckets work.’ He groaned, closing his eyes and smag his forehead. “Dyn, did you—”

  Dyn’s sigh deepened. “Yep,” he said quickly, still avoiding eye tact.

  “It’s okay,” Nathan said gently. “This is a hospital—everyone defecates.” He approached the pu bucket, grimag as he thought, ‘I should’ve expi better… but where did I g?’

  “I’m sorry, but I had to go—and you said not to leave.” Dyn frowned. “It gets worse when I’m nervous.”

  “No, no, it’s fine… I’ll just—” Nathan’s eyes stung, his eyeshes fluttering as he struggled to finish the thought. With a resigned sigh, he grabbed the soiled bucket and carried it to the restroom to it out.

  Fifteen mier, Nathaurned, sliding the mundane bucket bader the ter. Dyn was still sitting there with his belly out, and Nathan couldn’t help but imagine how unfortable he must feel. Suppressing the urge to skip the basieeds step, he forced himself to focus, reminding himself of his earlier mistake when he’d jumped ahead to ask Dyn about finding his purpose as an adventurer—which was the st step of the tract.

  Dyn pursed his lips, shifting them to the side as he hesitated. “So… not all buckets magically flush?”

  Nathan gave a simple nod, treating Dyn with dignity despite the misuanding. “Correly on buckets.”

  Dyn’s brow furrowed. “Wait—I just asked abur buckets.”

  Nathan shook his head slightly. “No—on-ranked, not on as in ordinary. on is the first tier of magical cssification. We use the term mundane for non-magical things.”

  “Oh,” Dyn said, scratg the back of his head. “So… mundane buckets don’t flush—only on ones do?”

  Nathan csped his hands in front of him, searg for the right words. “Um… that’s ly right. Not all on-raems share the same entment. on-raems hold only one entment, unon-ranked hold two, and so on.”

  Dyn squinted, frustration flickering in his eyes. “I’m still fused. How do I know which bucket to use?”

  “Ah.” Nathan nodded slowly, realization dawning. “I think I see the problem. You’re not supposed to use just any bucket—”

  Dyn winced and raised a hand to cut him off. “Yeah, I got that part.”

  “Stick to the ones in the restrooms.” Nathan offered a small smile. “I’ll show you the restrooms whe to Nightshade. Speaking of which, that’s where we’re having dionight. If you get hungry or thirsty before then, just let me know, and I’ll grab you something sooner, alright?”

  Dyn finally met Nathan’s eyes and nodded. “Okay.”

  Nathan frowned, his gaze drifting over Dyn’s clothes. “Do you own any other clothes?” He sed him from head to toe, noting the tatters in his shirt, though his pants and boots seemed i shape—just a bit soiled.

  Dyn shook his head. “Only what I’ve got on.”

  “I’ll take you to get a new wardrobe.” Nathan rubbed his , thinking. “We’ll probably o have everything resized to fit you properly.”

  Dyn’s face brightened. “I know someone who do that.”

  Nathan blinked, surprised. ‘He’s been on Xel’oria less than a week and already knows someoh a niche ability?’ “Who?”

  “Charles,” Dyn said with a grin. “ we get all my clothes from him?”

  Nathan nodded, processing the request. He didn’t mind where they got the clothes, as long as they were of high quality. “I don’t see a problem with that. May I ask why?”

  Dyn pihe fabric of his pants, a proud smile spreading across his face. “Have you ever worn anything made by Charles?”

  Nathan gave a small shake of his head. “Today was my first time meeting him.”

  Dyn hopped off the bed, brimming with enthusiasm. “Oh man, you’re missing out. Check out these pants.” He shoved both hands into his pockets, fring them out as he spun around.

  “They look like fine pants,” Nathan said with a chuckle, amused by Dyn’s delight.

  Dyn’s grin widened. “Best. Pants. Ever. Do you see hoockets these have? They put cargo pants to shame.”

  Nathan raised an eyebrow at the unfamiliar term. ‘Cargo pants?’ he wondered, but decided it wasn’t worth interrupting Dyn’s obvious excitement.

  “Ever had pants that fit like a sed skin? Or hold you the way you only dreamed another person would?” Dyn’s voice grew more animated, his hands sweeping through the air in exaggerated gestures.

  “These pants are mind-altering. Life-ging. Nothis getting into Charles’ pants.”

  He froze mid-sentence, his expression log in pce. Raising a finger, he ged. “That… didn’t e ht.”

  Nathan chuckled, shaking his head.

  “I meant, nothis a pair of Charles’ pants,” Dyn corrected. “You’ll never be more fortable than in Charles’ pants.” He winced, shaking his head. “Excrement. Did it again.”

  Nathan couldn’t hold back his ughter, his shoulders shaking with amusement

  Dyn, uerred by his stumbling or Nathan’s ughter, fed ahead. “But look, I died in these pants, and they’re still perfectly fine.” He brushed at one of the red splotches. “Minus the bloodstains.”