A Quiet Retreat

How are we feeling today?” Doctor Noris Sedant’s demeanor and tone always fell squarely on the minimally pleasant side of controlled. She wore her blonde hair in a tight bun, and her sharp blue eyes appraised Strathis from behind small round spectacles. Her modest white academic dress conveyed equal parts authority and knowledge. She stepped into the spartan room occupied by a single bed, small nightstand, and a steel dresser upon which sat a lonely candle. She left the door ajar behind her, and through the opening Strathis could see a pair of orderlies in white uniforms standing outside with a cart between them.

“Awful.” Strathis sat on the low bed with his feet flat on the floor. “I traveled all the way from Absalom, and after three weeks here I feel worse than when I arrived!”

Noris nodded. “Healing at The Bosco Sanitorium can be a long and difficult process. Some of our guests do report a period of time when they feel as if our treatments are not as effective as they had hoped. However, I can assure you, once you get through this painful phase, you will feel like a new person.”

“Can’t you just use magic?” Strathis felt a wave of pain rising within him and braced himself. He had always been physically strong, and was no stranger to cuts and scrapes, but this lingering illness was intolerable…and it had only grown worse since his arrival.

Noris shook her head and her stone expression held firm. “If you wanted magical healing, the Dawnflower Library in Otari is much more accommodating. Would you like me to summon a wagon?”

“No!” Strathis glared at Noris. She knew full well that he – as well as all the other guests at the Bosco Sanitorium – were not welcome at the Dawnflower Library. Even if he were, he doubted he could make the trip. As a wave of pain rose in the pit of his stomach, he wrapped his arms around his midsection and doubled over. “I’m hungry! Damn, I’m hungry.”

Noris tapped on the door and one of the orderlies rushed in with a plate of eggs, bacon, and biscuits. Strathis let the pain fade to a tolerable level before shoveling food into his mouth. The orderly scampered back out of the room but remained at the ready. If there was a silver lining to his misery, it was that the food here was delicious. In moments he finished his breakfast.

The doctor carefully observed him as he ate, but she spared a glance to the other orderly who held a second plate of food.

“Ahhh…” Strathis sighed as he stood. “What’s next? Vinegar bath? Pickled sheep’s eye? Snake’s bile? Whatever you got, I can… take… it…” A tidal wave of agony washed over him and sent him tumbling back upon the bed. A second wave ejected his breakfast from his stomach in a spectacular geyser that just barely missed the doctor.

“I thought we’d try something new today.” Noris motioned one orderly to tend to the mess then summoned the second orderly with the tray of covered food.

The cold metal tray bearing a single white porcelain plate was placed on the bed next to Strathis. The orderly pulled away the white napkin covering it to reveal the plate’s singular content: a large shank of meat sitting in a red pool of blood. White bone and cartilage poked out from the pink meat. Patches of pale white skin were covered in thin brown hairs. It was a far cry from the impeccably cooked and perfectly seasoned meats that he had previously dined on.

“What…” Strathis stared at the plate in disgust as more heaves wracked through him. “What in the Inner Sea is this?”

“Many of the nutrients you need are destroyed through the cooking process. Your body is so starved for nourishment, you can’t even keep prepared food down.” Noris stated plainly. “Eat it.”

Strathis picked up the shank and expected to be revolted. Instead, his nausea abated, and his stomach growled in anticipation. The smell of the raw meat was shockingly enticing. He wanted to at least feign disgust, but before he could, he tore into the flesh with voracious enthusiasm. He chewed a couple times before swallowing the cold, rubbery pulp and taking another bite. Blood dripped down his chin onto the bed, and he spared an approving glance at Noris.

For the first time, her stone expression cracked, and she wore a subtle smile. “Feeling better?”

Strathis nodded as he took another bite. “What…” he asked as he continued his meal “…is this? I’ve never seen meat like this.”

“Taldan.” Noris replied.

“Great.” Strathis nodded. “I mean, what type of animal.”

Noris returned to her neutral expression. “Taldan, human?” she spared a glance at the orderlies who had remained just outside the room.

They nodded back.

“Of course. We find that same-race cannibalism tends to offer the best results. Interracial cannibalism can also be effective… with the exception of elf.” Noris continued her explanation. “Most anything else though…”

Strathis chuckled as he cleaned the bone and sloughed down the last of the meat. “No, seriously. This is incredible. I feel…” he stood up and rotated his shoulders before leaning back and forth on his hips. “I feel amazing. Whatever this is, it’s a miracle. Where can I get more?”

“It’s all around. Though you will learn to identify acceptable meals from those suffering from your same affliction like many Bosco Sanitorium patients, orderlies, and myself.” Noris expounded with no hint of humor. “But, now that we’ve found an effective treatment, the world is, as the saying goes, your oyster.”

“You’re joking.” Strathis examined the bone in front of him, and recalled the shape of the meat upon it. He met Noris’ gaze as a terrible realization overcame him.

The cold metal tray bearing a single white porcelain plate was placed on the bed next to Strathis. The orderly pulled away the white napkin covering it to reveal the plate’s singular content: a large shank of meat sitting in a red pool of blood.

Her brows furrowed. “I find it quite cruel to joke about issues of health.”

Strathis fell back upon the bed in a confusion of conflicting emotions. His lack of physical disgust disturbed him greatly. The idea that he was feeling better because he had eaten raw human meat was both liberating and horrifying. After a long stretch he settled on the one emotion he was most familiar with: anger.

“WHAT!?!” he bellowed as he pushed himself to his feet. He towered over Noris, but she did not whither in the slightest at his presence. “How did you… ? Where did you… ? Why would you do that!?”

“Sit down.” Noris did not raise her voice, but within it was some undeniable authority that sent Strathis back to the bed.

“What did you do?” Strathis mustered a meager protest.

Noris shared a silent look with the orderlies as she closed the door. “When you arrived, you had a terribly misguided understanding of your condition. Now that you are in recovery it is easier to explain, and for you to accept, your illness.”

Strathis gaped at Noris.

“Illness – all illness – is, at its foundation, a sickness of mortality, which can be remedied by either death or immortality. At the Bosco Sanatorium, we offer both, through gentle and prolonged exposure to ghoul wellness. I am very pleased to see that your body has responded positively to this therapy, and I hope you will become a strong advocate for its efficacy.”

“Ghoul… wellness?” Strathis searched his mind for the term. He was overwhelmed and confused, but after a moment he landed upon the term he was looking for. “Ghoul fever! You gave me ghoul fever?” he bellowed, though remained unable to stand against the indomitable will of Doctor Sedant.

“That is a pejorative that has no place here.” Noris replied calmly.

Strathis’s mind continued to reel, and he clung to his anger for lack of any alternatives. “You can’t do this! I’ll… I’ll go back to Absalom! I’ll tell the First Guard!”

“Go back. Tell them. And what will they do?” Noris maintained her composure as if she had had this conversation many times before. “You were not welcome anywhere that offered divine healing. Why is that? So, you came here. And what do you think will happen to you when you tell them about your treatment? Will the gods open their doors to you, reverse your therapy, and heal your mortal illness because of this one act of ‘selflessness?’” She spoke the word in a mocking tone.

Strathis hung his head. “I… I just wanted to get better.”

Noris’s words shifted from harsh rebuke to gentle consolation. “You were an outcast and in need. Of course, you looked for hope outside the disapproving gods and their oppressive demagogues. And you found it, here, at the Bosco Sanatorium. Tranquil, warm, caring, willing to offer you effective treatment without judgment, and frankly, a badly needed departure from a harsh and noisy world that would sooner see you in agony than as an ally.”

“A quiet retreat.” Strathis acknowledged begrudgingly, his stomach rumbling once more.

“A Whispering Way.” Noris smiled warmly.