A Jaded Life

Chapter 1331

If there was one positive thing about my work at the hospital, it was that the repetitive monotony gave me a lot of time to think. The first window I had created with Earth and Crystal Magic had taken me a fair amount of focus and effort, but that had been quite a while ago. By now, after I had created what had to be hundreds of windows, I would probably be able to conjure one in my sleep; it was that easy. No wonder that I could probably conjure thousands of additional windows and not get a single skill-point; I had simply mastered that particular combination of magic, so there was nothing more to discover. Just mindless drudgery, endless repetitions to make sure the people who had to visit the hospital could recover in a pleasant atmosphere.

My time to think allowed me to consider Jess’s request. A part of me, likely the aspect of me that had grown into the Mother, was intrigued and wanted to step up. Another part, the realistic part that was interested in my magical studies and advances, that wanted to explore and give in to the wanderlust that plagued my heart, was well-aware that accepting meant taking on a responsibility.

One that might never truly manifest, but the promise would be there. It would be my duty to care for the child when it was born and, likely, help the mother until then. If something happened to Jess, I would be responsible for taking care of the kid, and Jess might even hope I would take on the role of a father, or maybe just as an additional provider. I wasn’t sure; we hadn't yet discussed the details of the role she had asked me to fill, which we would need to do if I decided to consider it further.

“Miss Morgana?” an unfamiliar voice intruded into the quiet of the hospital. Frowning a little, I finished the window I had been working on, sealing any gaps with a quickly drying grout to make sure no wind could flow through. The whole hospital was planned around magical air conditioning, so opening windows wasn’t necessary, and a draft could be lethal in this context.

“Yes?” I looked over, my frown deepening when the guy who had addressed me was unknown to me. “What do you want?” I asked, my voice a little harsher than usual.

“Apologies,” he immediately gave me a bow of submission, making me curious where that particular affectation came from. He didn’t look asian, but that didn’t mean much. After all, I looked quite different compared to my appearance two years ago, so he might be a legacy who had chosen that particular appearance. Or there might be other reasons I wasn’t willing to dig into. So, I simply stared at him, waiting for him to explain. If he didn’t, I was perfectly willing to get back to work and ignore him.

“I have heard that you offered to help some people with their trauma, after the mess in the Blessed City. Is that correct?” he asked, his voice dipping into obsequiousness, making a shiver of discomfort run down my spine. I wasn’t sure why his voice managed to make me so uncomfortable, but I could almost feel a knife being sharpened for my back.

“I have,” I nodded, ignoring the creeps his voice was giving me. Or rather, not ignoring, but putting aside for now. I certainly wouldn’t forget about them.

“Would you be willing to help a few other people? Some who weren’t in the Blessed City, but who have some trauma of their own?” he asked, and while I couldn’t be certain, I was convinced there was an uncomfortable level of eagerness in his voice.

“Depends,” I replied, noticing that the politely smiling mask on his face didn’t shift one bit, despite what could be considered a rejection, “How many people, what’s their trauma, what do they think I can do to help, and why are you here asking for them?” I paused for a moment before asking a rather pertinent question, one that I had ignored so far.

“What’s your name anyway?” If my question surprised the guy, he didn’t let it show on his face. His smile, his mask, didn’t waver at all. Somehow, that only increased my distrust.

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“Again, apologies. I’m called Joshua,” he introduced himself, though a small, paranoid part of me noticed that he stated he was called that, not that it was his name. Possibly nothing, but given that my paranoia was already flaring, it was noticeable.

“And my other questions? There are a lot of people who seek my help, and there are only so many hours in the day, to say nothing of numerous other projects I wish to pursue. Don’t waste my time,” I challenged, the paranoia making my temper flare beyond what was reasonable.

“Perfectly understandable,” he bowed again, “Seven people have approached me, their trauma stretches back all the way to that horrible night two years ago. They are unaware of the extent of your abilities, and due to that, they can hardly verbalise their expectations; they simply wish to overcome their trauma. And I’m here because I volunteered,” he explained, making me nod with understanding, despite the frown that still lingered on my face.

The request was, on its face, reasonable. But I wasn’t about to disregard my instincts, not with the way they were shouting at me that this guy was up to no good. I had no idea what he was planning, but the smile on his face was as fake as a three-dollar bill.

“There are a lot of people who seek my assistance. If those who have talked to you are interested, they can add their names to the list and will eventually get a spot. But it’ll take some time,” I told him, not rejecting him outright, but also not offering to help.

“If you have so much on your plate, there might be another option,” he volunteered, and, for the first time, I could hear something beyond the obsequious politeness in his voice. It was faint, but I was confident that this was the real reason why he had approached me.

“Would it be possible for somebody else to learn the techniques you employ to help these people? Would you be willing to explain, maybe even teach them?” His question shouldn’t have come as a surprise, but it did. I hadn’t expected this, but maybe I should have. The man sounded quite eager and interested, even if he did his best to keep his hunger concealed.

“I have never tried to,” I admitted, “And it’s not something I could teach quickly. The Mind is incredibly complex, with numerous layers and interconnections, making any work done within it extremely delicate.” I paused for a moment, deciding to test the man a little. A part of me, the cautious, maybe paranoid, part, wanted to reject him outright, but another part was curious what a deeper investigation might unearth.

“Let me test something,” I challenged, waiting for him to nod after a few moments of hesitation. Then, I focused every single trait I had to increase my perception of him, activating every skill and concentrating it all on him. The world around me seemed to fade away as my focus narrowed down until there were only the two of us in existence. For a moment, I considered letting my own being fade out of focus, to narrow my perception even further, but I decided against it. It would be too risky unless I restrained the guy.

But even without throwing everything at him, I could sense a lot. Maybe even a little too much for comfort. My mind was struggling a little, trying to compress the vast amount of information my senses, mundane and mystical, were collecting into a single comprehensive picture.

Some parts, like those directly supplied by the system, were obvious. He was level forty-five, not tremendously high, but also not low. That was easy, and I could see him recoil for a moment, the sensation of being Observe’d as uncomfortable as ever.

But other parts I was sensing were far harder to filter and turn into something comprehensive. Moments after the start of my observation, I let my focus widen again, my head already aching a little, thanks to information overload. I would have to go through all this with a fine-toothed comb, especially the parts that I had senses with my Extrasensory Perception for Minds and my Soul Sight. Those two might just be the most important aspects to understand, though some of the things I had seen on a purely visual level were interesting, too.

Mainly that brief moment of shock that had broken the mask he wore on his face, allowing me to see something that was between hatred, agony and revulsion. Sadly, I had no real idea what those might mean, and by the time I had dialled down my senses, the guy was back to demonstrating impressive self-control.

“We will talk in the future,” I told him, the dismissal in my voice hopefully clear enough to rid myself of him. Luckily, he simply nodded in acceptance, bowed once more and left, without saying another word.

Now, I only had to figure out how to deal with that. Or if I wanted to deal with this at all.