And It All Started From A Letter

A month after the client’s visit. Inside Karl’s house, in his room, he was opening a parcel containing a letter from the united province’s that approved of his license after examining the medical record of the people he helped during the war. There are lines in the letter however that demanded him to retake the exam years later. There was a strict guideline for him and yet he also knew that this was because of his merits in the war that they allowed such exceptions. Not to mention that his ‘apprenticeship’ with Verloren Einsen helped in convincing the medical board to allow him to practice medicine.

Karl got out of his room. He went to the living room. Walked in the kitchen and started pulling food from the refrigerator. There was a note in one of the dishes. It was written elegantly. He took the dish with him. Ate it on the table in the kitchen. After the meal, he washed the dish, drank some coffee and washed himself up.

Locking the door of his house. Dressed in a covert coat with a business suit underneath. He carried his medical bag, placed it in the saddlebag of his motorcycle. He traveled from his home to the Postal Company. Upon arriving at the company, he parked his motorcycle, carried his saddlebag up to the second floor and entered the newly built office. It still smelled of furnished wood. There are three rooms inside this office. The room where the consultation happens. The storage room where the medicine was and the small ward that is meant for sick employees who hurt their feet, backs or are just downright sick.

He opened the shutters. Just in time there was a middle-aged man with an apologetic expression that entered the clinic. He wiped his face. His pate was pale. There were reddish bumps on the side of his neck. His cheeks were swollen. Karl pointed a finger at the chair in front of the office. The man sat and placed both hands on his lap.

“Seafood again?” Karl assumed his ‘physician’ face. His skin was rather slimy.

“It’s my stomach, I think.”

Karl checked on his neck, sure it was. “Those shellfish are going to cause complications in your body if you keep this up.”

Karl pulled out a pungent medicine. He handed it to him.

His face crumpled and he almost vomited. “This is… do I really have to drink this?”

“You have to,” Karl cringed his nose at the smell, “it’ll heal the allergic reaction on our neck and behind your ear. And please, don’t eat shellfish for now. You aren’t used to it. Or at least your body isn’t fond of it.”

“My cousins seem fine.”

“Different bodies, friend. Tell me what you eat.”

He listed the food that he ate for the past hour. For his sake, Karl also recorded what he ate yesterday from morning to afternoon. After the round of checkup, and forcing him to drink the pungent medicine. Karl told him to go.

“Don’t eat that again.”

“I won’t Doc.”

He said to Karl as left by the door. Karl settled on his swivel chair and twisted on it. He wrote on the man’s record before placing them inside his file cabinet. Karl pulled his typewriter out and started writing a report regarding the patient’s situation.

After an hour in his clinic. Karl put away the typewriter below his desk. He left his clinic, went down one floor, and entered the break room where he drank coffee while partaking in the cookies and snacks placed on the counter. Viole’s Postal Company was rather extravagant regarding its ‘break room’ and had a bakery just near the postal company delivering snacks every single day. The employees were free to take the snacks or use their allocated break time to relax.

After his short break, he went back to his office, and continued on doing paperwork while entertaining some of the employees who were hoping to make use of the benefit given by the company to ask him for a free check-up.

Karl noticed that most of the postmen were either having problems with their backs and strangely their wrists. He initially thought that it would be about their legs, but it looks like most of their strength is supported by their backs while doing deliveries. Not to mention that because of the recent changes in their policies and how they deliver packages that they are even shipping furniture and appliances from a catalog book that had images of the product that they are getting.

There was actually a warehouse in cleardocks district where the harbor would pick up the packages and deliver them to their destination where they would be picked up by a postman, courier, or rider for delivery.

Karl admits that Sir Viole’s ability to do business was quite impressive. And since he had been employed to act as an associate doctor with benefits such as free travel expensenses and make use of airplanes that they have in case of emergency. Who in their right mind would refuse such a good job?

It has been a month after his work with Sir Delaware. Although Alicia did most of the work and he only stayed on-guard and did some chores for her and talked to the late Sir. He was still paid well with thirty-thousand krons as fee for becoming part of the company and a signing bonus. Other than that, there was nothing to be dissatisfied with. Not to mention that he could finally practice medicine without being called a quack.

Because of Viole’s connections he was able to get his license faster. Though Karl wished that he would get a reply from his foster father. He had been waiting long and so far there was no news about Verloren Einsen or Isidor.

It was one of the things that would occupy him at night. Though most of the time his head was buried in studies and trying to get along with the people he was working with.

From a soldier to an associate doctor working for the health of a postal delivery. It was quite the change of pace that Karl was looking for. When there was little to be done. He would visit the room where the ghostwriters were staying to check up on them. 

The ghostwriters don't only act as copyists but editors as well. When they don’t have any clients or commissions they are usually stuck on the desks working on manuscripts. It was quite a friendly environment though there was a certain abuse of caffeinated drinks thanks to the certain amount of manuscripts that they were getting which were then sent to the affiliate publishers that would publish the material.

Karl made it a habit to check on them. Though most of the time the ones who needed help were the ones in the printers and warehouses. The serious lack of regulations regarding the workers were quite a problem that Sir Viole was still trying to fix.

Back at his office, Karl saw an unopened parcel. He took a long look at the parcel and opened it. Inside the parcel was a box and a letter. Karl adjusted the switch of the lamp on the side of his desk.

“Karl, my boy,” the parchment reads. “It has come to my attention that you’ve returned home. Dani sent me a letter regarding your safe return. It is good to me that you’ve returned home. And it pains me that I have to bring you this news.”

The next letter hardened Karl’s nerves. His mind raced with fury he didn’t feel even during the war.

“I would be dead. The Verloren Einsen Company, led by Isidro, will be gone. I cannot tell you the specific details for it will compromise. But if this parcel reaches you then you will know that I am in trouble.

“This is in regards to our patient. I trust that you must have a speculation. And if you don’t then let me tell you that I am in a place where one has lost a war. It is merely an occupation hazard that was the result of conflicting individuals. Politics, my boy is a terrifying business and I am glad that you are not part of this nonsense. We are doctors after all. And I think that after the war you would have continued to mend instead of kill.

“You have always been dispassionate. You always have that look on your face that sometimes made me wonder if your soul was older. Nonetheless, my boy, you are a strong one, and you will surely understand that this is the oath that we take as a doctor and a physician.”

Most of the letter was written as if he was rambling on. Karl got the idea in the handwriting and the tone of the letter that it felt like it was farewell. Karl almost didn’t want to believe, knowing his father and Isidor.

“This might be farewell. And although I must confess that I should have stopped you and Danil in going to war. It’s only when death comes knocking that I would even dare to have the cheek to tell you useless words. The house shall belong to you. Truthfully, I cannot give anything more than the house you’ve grown in. I had a lawyer transfer the name of the property and it should be in this parcel.”

Karl searched the parcel and found the paperwork. He set the paperwork aside and then took out the package that came with it. It was a collapsible camera with a leather holster that came with it.

“That is the one of the things that I can give you. It is quite popular and it can take a photo faster than usual. I believe that it uses a formula within the small bottom of the camera to produce a photo within minutes. It is popular and I managed to procure one.”

Karl didn’t understand why he was sending so many. A letter that notified that he might be dead. A camera that he probably procured on a whim. He turned to the letter looking for answers.

“And in the likelihood that I survive. I shall tell you. My last client was Mildred Wendelia Von Hilma, of Witia. You’ve survived the war so you must know the name of the vixen of Witia who caused the downfall of an Empire. Specifically, I was helping in taking care of Lady Marlene Von Hilma, her adopted daughter.”

“The princess of Wiesen,” Karl said aloud.

“Lady Marlene is sick. There are people who wanted the last royal dead. Perhaps, she will be, for there is certainly no cure to her disease. Maybe if she had twenty more years we could have saved her. Nonetheless, we cannot and I write this in hopes that you could ease her pain. She has little time left, my boy. Perhaps the sacrifice of the company, for such a young girl, is questionable. Is the life of many worth the price of a frail and sickly young girl? To give her time, so that she may live her borrowed time?

“We have talked about this when we decided to confront the fanatical folks that wanted the last royal dead. We are old men sauntering to our death. Isidor and the group are old. And I believe that it should be the young that ushers the new age. Through the apprentices, assistants, and students that learned from us we shall live on. And truthfully, we could not abandon the little girl who did not see much of the world. And believe me my boy that it is better that we die standing than allow these brainless fools to do what they want.  I will not ask for forgiveness, my boy. But I do ask that you stay strong and forgive me for that in sending this letter, I hope that you would assist the Archduchess.”

Karl placed the letter.

He held his forehead and leaned back as he quietly let out body-shaking sobs.