Chapter 84 – By the Book
Personal projects aside, their original reason for coming to Nomyra was also moving steadily.
About two weeks after everyone had met Varra, the researchers announced a breakthrough. They had finally managed to find a cure for the necromantic disease. The news spread quickly.
There were celebrations throughout the relief sites. Patients who had spent weeks wondering whether they would ever recover finally had an answer. Healers who had barely slept in a month found a reason to smile and laugh.
Even the Divinarium held a small gathering for the researchers involved. Merchants were also happy that it was safe to travel the region once again. Absolutely everyone was in a festive mood.
Orestis, of course, had no interest. He avoided all of it.
Not like there is any reason why I am required to participate.
Still, the cure did do something useful; the healers who had volunteered to help were no longer occupied. Which meant the affliction spreading through Kallistrate’s soldiers could finally get proper attention.
About time. Or maybe I should say just in time.
It coincided well with the overall situation back in Kallistrate. Orestis had been keeping an ear out—and things really weren’t going well for the Temple. It made him smile every time.
Regardless, with the researchers and healers, they were doing things by the book. Their first step had been to draft a formal proposal and submit a request to the Kallistrate Crown, and through them, to the Temple.
Apparently, if they intended to investigate the condition inside Kallistrate itself, diplomatic approval from the Crown was a necessary step. Because, whatever their individual affiliations, they were still foreign researchers, operating under Nomyran institutions.
There was also the small matter of the patients. The afflicted soldiers had all been recalled to a Temple-run recovery facility after the initial berserker incidents. Since the Temple controlled access to both the patients and the records, its approval was required as well.
Which meant they needed to send prior notice to both institutions.
Who knew things were so complicated? At least, for those without power, that is.
Back when Orestis used to go around doing things or looking for people, he never had to get anyone’s permission or jump through so many hoops. Or any hoops, actually.
Besides, there was a very significant reason he never bothered to request anything in the first place—apart from the efficiency, that is.
Six days later, the healers received the official reply: their request was denied.
Which is the other reason why I never bothered to ask. Wasting almost a week just to get a no.
There wasn’t even any explanation that came with it. Not that any was needed. Everyone understood how it happened: the Temple of Demerius had pressured the relevant ministries, the offices that processed such requests, the nobles—or whoever it was that needed leaning on—to deny their request.
As for why they did it—the Temple was still drowning in the aftermath of the training scandal.
In the beginning, they maintained the assertion that the aura affliction was Logrion’s fault; that their aura-disrupting artefacts were the cause. It was a reasonable assumption. Believable, too. Everyone had been rallying against Logrion. Never mind that Kallistrate had been the aggressor, or that the casualties would never have existed without the invasion.
But then, the first document was leaked to the public, and the Temple’s momentum stalled—hard.
First, there were the usual denials and claims of forgery. Then came the deflections. Then the clarifications. After that came the claims of unfortunate misunderstandings.
Through it all, new evidence kept on surfacing that continued to push the Temple deeper into a pit.
Internal records. Training reports. Medical assessments. Documents that proved, beyond any reasonable doubt, that Temple officials had known about the long-term damage and proceeded anyway.
At least, that’s what it looked like to everyone.
It didn’t help that when the Consortium’s review board later submitted its own analysis, it supported the same conclusion.
Whoever Logrion had assigned to handle the leaks—probably their spy network; Orestis had no real idea how such things were organised—had done it well. The information had appeared in carefully timed waves. Every attempt at damage control was met by another revelation.
By now, public opinion was already firmly set against the Temple.
Everyone already ‘knew’ that the Temple had caused all the problems: the Temple had known there were risks inherent in the training method. And the Temple had gone through with it anyway because of their greed.
At this point, the facts hardly mattered. The narrative had already won.
Ironically, the story fit the Temple’s reputation so well that even most of its own staff seemed convinced that someone higher up had knowingly given the order.
Which left the Temple with only one route forward: they needed a victory. Not a political one, or a theological one—a practical one. They needed to be the ones who fixed the problem they had supposedly caused.
Therefore, there was no way they would allow foreign researchers into Kallistrate to attempt to solve the affliction. With the current climate, even a collaboration would go against the Temple’s interests. Even if a cure was found, the credit would not belong to them.
Worse, it would publicly confirm that outside assistance had been necessary in the first place. For an institution accused of incompetence, that was the one admission it couldn’t afford.
At this point, they did not simply need a cure. They needed to own the cure.
And so, the request had been denied.
***
The six volunteers—which included Aelia—gathered at one of the lower galleries of the Divinarium. Orestis didn’t remember the names of anyone else. That was fine; he didn’t need to.
Besides, I can always ask the idiot if it becomes necessary.
Orestis, along with Maxim and Eirene, was also present for this particular discussion. The agenda: discuss what to do next.
Most of the volunteers looked irritated.
“Can they actually do this?” one of them asked.
“Legally?” another said. “Yes.”
“And morally?”
“We all know morals have never been high on their list of concerns.”
They spent another minute or so venting against the Temple and the officials.
After a while, Aelia said, “This is going nowhere. We need to address the main issue. The patients still exist. Regardless of politics, it is our duty to help them.”
That quieted the room.
“But what can we do? Realistically?” one of the healers asked. “The Crown’s denied us permission to operate in Kallistrate. If we ignore that, we create a diplomatic incident.”
“We’re healers, not diplomats,” another declared.
“Our responsibility as healers, first and foremost, is to the people,” Aelia said. “It is our highest calling. The reason we exist.”
She didn’t raise her voice. But something about the way she said it seemed to resonate with the others. It seemed everyone shared the same sentiment.
Well, some people were strange that way, Orestis thought.
He could not imagine himself going so far for a stranger. He might be willing if it would serve some purpose. But to do it for no other reason than because he was able to? No, he would rather leave that kind of stuff to heroes and fools.
Speaking of, Maxim stood and stepped forward, getting everyone’s attention. “There is an obvious solution: nothing is stopping us from bringing the patients here.”
The room went quiet. Then, one said, “Right. We’ve spent so long travelling to those who need us that we never even considered asking them to come to us.”
“But they’re all inside the facility they’re calling the Sacred Recovery Grounds,” another said.
“I looked into that,” Maxim said. “While the Temple and Crown are treating the place as a containment zone for soldiers at risk of going berserk, they are still allowed to return home—provided they acknowledge that the Temple bears no responsibility if something goes wrong.”
“Isn’t that dangerous?” a healer asked.
“Yes, but if they don’t let them leave, the public starts comparing it to imprisonment,” Maxim pointed out. “Which is objectively worse for the Temple right now.”
“It is the best option from their perspective: letting the soldiers leave after declaring the Temple free of responsibility,” Aelia said, nodding. “They did their part by warning the soldiers of the dangers. Any accidents then become the fault of the soldiers themselves.”
“Exactly,” Maxim said. “But we can use that. While the soldiers are at home, we can simply go and bring them over through gateways, examine them, then send them back. No one here needs to set foot in Kallistrate.”
And if the Temple attempts to prevent people from seeking help on their own, they would end up doing even more damage to their public image.
That is, if they even hear about it in the first place. With how things are, I doubt anyone’s going to report it to the temple.
One of the volunteers said, “But, would people actually agree to something like that? They already have little trust for institutions in their own country. Would they be willing to come to a whole other country for treatment?”
“They would in Theramon,” Orestis said, speaking for the first time. This part was related to him, after all.
When the healer turned to Orestis, he continued. “Quite a few families in Theramon have approached my mother seeking my assistance.”
Before they could ask, Orestis clarified, “I work as an analyst and researcher at the Orthessa Mage Consortium. My mother may have inflated my reputation among the neighbours.”
An understatement. Even before his mother had heard of the plan, she had been praising him to the heavens to everyone who would listen.
Funnily enough, because she’s been doing it for years, everyone seems to have moderated their expectations whenever the news concerns me. Especially if my mother is the source.
“I spoke to my mother earlier today as well,” Orestis continued. “Those families are still willing to do whatever is necessary to help the afflicted among them. If we approach them, they will come.”
Aelia smiled. “That makes things much more convenient. We can use our own facilities here to conduct our research.”
The other healers all nodded along, pleased. After that, the discussion changed entirely. It turned to logistics and scheduling—such as how many patients they could attend to at a time, how often, and where to house them if such a thing became necessary during treatment.
The last one was not a problem: apparently, the Divinarium had more than enough rooms for such purposes. As for the number of patients, that he did not know. She had merely told him that there were ‘a lot’.
Considering the number of people living in Theramon—and the fact that each family had been required to send at least one member to the army—Orestis estimated that they should be able to get about a hundred soldiers to examine.
Makes me wonder how Aelia circumvented this problem last time. She probably had Varra’s help.
I wouldn’t put it past the lich to just go and nab a few people. And while she is likely to complain, Aelia is too practical to pass up the opportunity to resolve things.
Some of the healers raised concerns about safety, since there was always a chance of someone randomly going berserk while they were undergoing examinations.
“Don’t worry,” Maxim reassured them. “All three of us are Chosen. We can handle security.”
Orestis raised an eyebrow at Maxim, giving him an inquisitive look.
Why is he including Eirene and me in the roster?
The idiot alone would be more than enough for security. Probably the accounts thing again, in my case. For Eirene, maybe training to protect someone? It was not a bad idea.
Or maybe I’m overthinking things. Either way, it’s fine.
***
After the discussion concluded, nobody seemed interested in wasting time. They all went to attend to their self-assigned tasks. For people who had spent the past few weeks complaining about working nonstop, they seemed remarkably enthusiastic about immediately taking on more work.
Then again, maybe they enjoy complaining more than healing, and the latter simply provides opportunities for the former.
Leaving Aelia and the volunteers to do their thing, Orestis, along with Eirene and Maxim, gated to Theramon to see about arranging the transfers.
They had discussed the possibility of travelling to Nomyra with his mother before, so all he would have to do was ask her to spread the news and see who was available to travel now or in the near future. Those who weren’t ready could be transported later. Not like there was a rush.
Actually, Orestis corrected himself, there is. Every one of them is on an invisible timer, aren’t they? The problem is that nobody knows when their timer runs out.
Right after they stepped through the gate into the garden of his parents' mansion, Lyse sent him a message: his mother was already at the village square with everyone willing to participate in the study.
“That’s convenient,” Maxim remarked. Apparently, he had received the same update.
When Eirene turned to him, Orestis relayed the message. Then he added, “Eleuthera should take lessons from her friend when it comes to keeping her Chosen informed.”
Suddenly, there was a goddess in front of him pointing a finger at his face. “I’ll have you know, she is always informed on important matters.”
Maxim, ever polite, nodded to her. “Goddess.”
“It occurs to me that I probably should have kept my mouth shut,” Orestis muttered as he made his way towards the door. All he’d done was provide her with official justification to bother him.
“Keeping your mouth shut sounds terribly restrictive. I don’t recommend it,” Eleuthera replied cheerfully as she drifted into step beside Eirene.
She really is planning to stick with us for the rest of the day, isn’t she? Orestis thought, suppressing a sigh.
He didn’t ask why she was here. She had been appearing more and more often recently, for no other reason than to hang out with Eirene or play with Nuri.
Speaking of—I could use the little furball right now; she’s surprisingly good for destressing.
A couple of minutes later, they turned a corner and got a view of the village square. And Orestis stopped. Because the place was packed full of people.
These weren’t the families of the afflicted—there were some older people, but not many. No, most of those people were young, and they carried themselves with the quiet grace of those able to wield aura.
Orestis had been expecting a few dozen at most. Maybe a hundred if his mother had been particularly enthusiastic. Instead, he was looking at close to a thousand.
There was no way they had all come from Theramon. Clearly, he had once again underestimated his mother’s talent for spreading rumours. Somehow, she’d managed to tell half the region.
This could be a problem.
Beside them, Eirene frowned as she surveyed the crowd. Then she said what all three of them were already thinking: “There’s no way the Temple doesn’t know about this.”
No, there isn’t.
Orestis shared a glance with Maxim. They both released a pulse of mana at the same time to survey the area.
The feedback confirmed what he’d already suspected.
Theramon was surrounded.