On the last day before Edwin left Myrna, a man with white patches on his skin and an expression of pure dread came in the clinic.

“Healer, it itches, and my skin is turning white. Am I going to die?” The man looked like he was ready to cry. Edwin took a closer look at him, then he went to the big encyclopedia with various skin diseases and began to leaf through it.

Red skin…

Purple skin…

White skin patches:

Vitiligo is a rare autoimmune sickness that appears in people aged between 10 and 30…

It could be inherited…

White, sometimes itchy skin. No cure, but there are preventive measures.

Edwin frowned at that. If it was an autoimmune response of some kind, couldn’t whatever was happening to be fixed with heavy medicine? Or mana treatment.

 He looked up, but couldn’t find the reason for such a response. The clinic really needed to invest in better reference books. He kept reading as the man looked at him with despair.

Sun protecting lotions should be worn at all times when the sun is stronger. The noon hours should be spent inside. Protective clothing could help lessen the symptoms…

“Am I going to die, healer?” The man was sweating now. Edwin tore his eyes off the book to give him a reassuring smile.

“No, you will not. I’ll give you a note for the herbal shop to mix you some sun lotion and from now on, you will need to be bundled up at all times. There is nothing I can do for the white patches, but you are not contagious, either.” Edwin wrote the recipe from the book on a piece of paper and handed it to the man.

“So, how many years do I have left?” The man appeared confused, and Edwin placed a hand over his chest and ran a scan.

“Your heart appears to be good for another 98 years,” A smile blossomed on the patient’s face. “But you seem to have a kidney that is on the verge of failing. If you get on the transplant list now, you might make it in time. Even if you don’t, plenty of people live with just one kidney.”

“I am so dead!” Screamed the man, and he rushed towards the transplantation registration office.

“You are welcome, sir!” Yelled after him, Edwin. He checked the clock. He had ten more minutes until his shift was over. His last shift here. Maybe in any clinic. Sitting down on the chair, he stared at the surrounding room.

He was in one of the better offices, which the director had done in hopes to keep him, he was sure. But with the duel between Karl Lambert and Aleric Stormcrow approaching with each passing day, he knew he couldn’t stay.

People were in near panic after the duel was accepted and the Stormcrow’s involvement in the coughing pandemic was exposed. The Hafnons had gone up in arms, demanding the Boliarin step down from his office and be given a trial for his crimes.

But Aleric Stormcrow was not without allies. The Tsardom of Mopia as a whole refused to accept his resignation, when he did give it. There were protests in the streets and general unrest. Should Aleric die in the duel, the people wouldn’t take it standing down.

Lambert’s allies were just as vocal. Already, statues were commissioned for him, so his bravery wouldn’t be forgotten. It didn’t matter to the people of Duria if he won or not. Their hero was going to stand up to the evil necromancer who had littered their cities and hamlets with the dreaded gray flags.

Many remembered Edwin as well. He was called out to be Karl’s second by random people on the street. The mayor had given him an hour-long speech about the noble act of felling Aleric Stormcrow. Even Brian and Lara had written to him, telling him that he needed to act.

But, why had Aleric Stormcrow done what he did? It didn’t make sense. He had been extremely patriotic, but mostly peaceful. Did Duria do something to the far off Tsardom to explain this act of aggression?

Edwin has been trying to look into the matter. But he was a green boy compared to the Stormcrow. All his animals were caught and burned. The dwarf had even given him a message when Edwin refused to give up after the first caught spy.

Leave off, boy. This is between us gray beards. If I see another dead animal on my porch, your children will become shambling corpses.

And that had been the end of Edwin’s snooping around. He had been naïve to not consider that the dwarf could spy on him. Now, he did his best to prepare for his departure.

Even if he lost his title as a Boliarin, it wouldn’t be a massive loss. There would be a public backlash at him practically running away. The nobles were not happy with little Elidys’ ascension as crown prince, and even less so with Edwin becoming second-in-line after the boy.

The Queen had been furious, but Edwin knew how to deal with the likes of Alaine Gothenburg. He had, without a hint of shame, called her out on her bullshit before her grandfather. Then, Karl Lambert had put a stop to it all, in his typical fashion. Without suffering any protests whatsoever.

For all that Edwin had had a low opinion of Karl for most of his life, now he felt sadden about his imminent death. The duel was tomorrow, and a week had passed since the necromancer had done the mirror curse.

Now, the only thing all of Duria could do was hope and have faith in their first Boliarin’s battle prowess. The hedge healer was going to go to the temple of Harika and light a candle for his colleague. It was the least he could do.

But, he was not going to be completely inactive. Oh, no. The duel was going to take place in the frozen ocean on an iceberg, or so Karl had told him. It would be Edwin’s task to make sure none of the wayward mana of the two necromancers reached the coast of Duria.

He had even warned the neighboring countries of the duel. Not that they hadn’t known before he told them, as the various Boliarins spied on their ilk, but his words had been well received.

The clock chimed and Edwin stood up and took off his coat. It was property of the clinic, and so he had to leave it behind. But his scrubs, with the E. R stitched on them, was something he was going to take with him.

And, who knew, maybe even stitch Tommy boy on them as well. It was not like he was going to be hired in a clinic in the Surian Theocracy. Him being a foreigner and all.