No Class Found

Nearly two months had passed since Ironha first suggested opening a clinic in Glasshold, and the empty lot beside the trade depot was empty no longer.

A second building now stood beyond the low stone wall. The upper floor held living quarters for the growing number of Foroughfore workers stationed permanently in the city, while the basement handled storage and supplies. The ground floor had been divided between a common area and the small clinic Ironha had spent most of those two months preparing.

Today, it was finally ready to open.

Ironha walked through the clinic one final time, checking the preparations.

The treatment beds stood ready with clean linens. Her workbench held mortars, pestles, and neatly arranged ingredients. Healing potions lined the shelves—minor potions on the left, stronger ones on the right, with the more unique potions secured in their own cabinet.

Ren and Maris waited near the supply shelves.

Over the past several weeks, both had found reasons to spend more and more time around the clinic. Eventually, Ironha had stopped sending them away and started teaching them instead.

"Anything missing?" she asked.

Ren checked the pages in his hands. He had already counted the inventory twice that morning and written down what would need replacing first.

He shook his head. "Everything's ready."

Ironha looked at Maris.

The girl gave the room another careful look, moving from the shelves to the treatment beds and finally the workbench.

"I think we're ready."

"Then we're open."

She crossed to the front door and turned the wooden sign hanging there.

Foroughfore Clinic

All Welcome

Above the lettering was Foroughfore’s emblem: a round yellow duck with an orange beak, painted bright enough to be seen from halfway down the street.

Rald, the construction foreman Brenn had left in charge of the Glasshold crew, had built the sign along with two of his workers. They had matched the duck to the one already flying above the trade depot.

Ironha stepped outside for a moment to look at it properly.

The yellow duck stood out clearly against the dark wood.

Ironha was about to step back inside when she noticed several people waiting near the low stone wall.

Calen stood with Kipp beside him, both bundled against the cold. Doc was there as well, Fish sitting at his feet while he spoke quietly with an elderly woman wrapped in a patched wool cloak.

A little girl stood beside her, holding the woman's hand.

Ironha stopped.

Calen noticed her first.

"There she is."

The old woman turned toward Ironha.

Ironha looked from her to Calen. "You already found someone?"

"A few people, actually." Calen rubbed the back of his neck. "Kipp and I went around the district this morning. Told people the clinic was opening."

Kipp nodded. "We told the shops too."

Doc glanced toward them. "They were very thorough."

“We wanted to make sure people knew about it,” Kipp said.

Ironha smiled and said.

"Well, that worked."

She stepped closer to the old woman.

"Good morning. I'm Ironha."

I know who you are." The woman looked Ironha over. "You're the elf healer."

Ironha smiled. She had been hearing that more often lately.

There weren't many elves this far north, and apparently that made her easier to remember than she expected.

The woman shifted her weight and winced.

Ironha noticed immediately.

"Your leg?"

"My knee." The woman tapped her left one. "Been bad since the first snow. Worse these last few weeks."

The little girl tugged gently on her sleeve.

"And mine."

Ironha crouched slightly so she was closer to the girl's height.

"What happened to you?"

The girl held out one hand.

Two fingers were wrapped in a strip of cloth that had once been white.

"I cut them."

"On what?"

"A broken jar."

The old woman sighed. "Yesterday. Her mother cleaned it, but I figured if there really was a healer opening this close, we might as well have someone look at it."

"There really is," Ironha said.

She stood and opened the clinic door wider.

"Come inside. Both of you."

The girl looked up at the yellow duck above the sign before following her grandmother through the doorway.

Calen lingered near the entrance with Kipp.

Ironha looked back at them. "You two coming?"

Kipp shook his head. "We were going to make another round."

"Some people said they'd come by later," Calen added. "A few weren't sure yet."

Ironha glanced toward the street.

That did not surprise her.

The clinic was new. So were they, at least by Glasshold's standards. Foroughfore had been trading out of the district for months now, but that did not mean everyone was ready to trust a healer they barely knew.

Ironha looked back at Calen.

"Don't push anyone."

"We won't."

Kipp was already stepping away from the building.

Calen gave Ironha a small wave before following him down the street.

Doc started toward the door.

Ironha raised an eyebrow. "And you?"

"I was told I was helping today."

"You were."

"Then I'm helping."

He held the door open for her.

Ironha smiled and stepped inside.

The old woman had already taken one of the chairs near the reception desk. Maris stood beside the little girl, carefully unwrapping the cloth around her fingers while Ren pulled a fresh sheet of parchment toward himself.

Doc closed the door behind them and looked around.

"What do you need me to do?"

Ironha glanced toward the treatment area.

"Help me with the patients. If I need a scan, equipment, or supplies, I'll tell you."

Doc nodded. "Assistant for the day."

"Exactly."

He moved closer to the treatment beds while Ironha turned toward their first patients.

"Alright," Ironha said. "Let's see what we're dealing with."

She started with the older woman.

"Which knee?"

The woman tapped her left one. "This one. Been hurting for years, but winter makes it worse."

Ironha pulled a stool over and sat in front of her.

"Any falls recently?"

"No."

"Swelling?"

"Sometimes."

"Does it hurt when you're sitting, or mostly when you walk?"

The woman hesitated, apparently not expecting the questions.

"Walking. Stairs are worse."

Ironha placed one hand lightly against the woman's knee.

Vital Sense settled in.

The joint took shape beneath her touch. Inflammation around the joint, worse along one side. Nothing felt broken, but years of wear had left their mark.

"Doc."

He was already moving.

Doc picked up the bio-scanner from beside the treatment bed and crouched nearby.

The old woman's attention shifted immediately to the device in his hand.

"What is that?"

"A scanner," Doc said.

Her eyes narrowed. "Enchanted?"

Doc glanced at Ironha.

"Close enough."

He activated it.

A pale light passed slowly over her knee.

The woman stiffened.

"It won't hurt," Ironha said.

The light swept over the joint again while Doc watched the information appearing across the small display.

The woman's eyes followed the light.

"How much does something like that cost?"

Doc glanced down at the scanner.

"I honestly don't know."

The woman frowned. "You don't know?"

"We use them as standard equipment. Most of our junior healers have one."

The woman sat back

"Every junior healer?"

"More or less."

Her gaze dropped back to the scanner, lingering on it a little longer this time.

"Something like that would cost a fortune in Glasshold."

Doc looked at Ironha.

Ironha gave a small shrug. "Maybe we're spoiled."

The woman didn't seem to know whether they were joking.

A moment later, the scanner gave a soft chime.

Doc read the display, then turned the screen toward Ironha

"Mostly wear around the joint. Inflammation here." He indicated one side of the knee. "Nothing broken."

Ironha nodded. It matched what Vital Sense had already shown her.

The old woman looked between them.

“You can see inside my leg with that thing?”

“It gives us a look at what’s going on underneath.” Doc said.

Her attention shifted from the display to the man holding it.

Her eyes narrowed.

"Wait."

Doc lowered the scanner.

"You're him."

Doc glanced at Ironha. "That's usually not a good start."

"The man who brought the princess back."

Doc sighed softly.

Ironha hid her smile.

The old woman pointed at him. "You are."

"I helped."

"My grandson said you killed some powerful monster out in the Waste."

"There were several people involved."

"But you're a warrior."

Doc looked down at himself, then at the scanner in his hand.

"I suppose."

The woman frowned as though the pieces did not fit together.

"So what's a warrior like you doing checking an old woman's bad knee?"

Doc smiled.

"Ironha asked me to help."

The woman looked at Ironha.

Then back at Doc.

"That's it?"

"That's it."

Ironha folded her arms. "He listens occasionally."

"Occasionally," Doc agreed.

The woman stared at the two of them for another second before letting out a short laugh.

Some of the tension left her shoulders.

Ironha turned her attention back to the knee.

"I can help with the pain and swelling. I can't make the joint young again."

The woman's smile faded slightly.

"Thought healers could fix things."

"Some things." Ironha rested her fingers against the side of the joint. "This has been wearing down for years. I can reduce the inflammation and help the surrounding tissue recover. That should make walking easier."

"And after that?"

"I'll give you a tonic. Take a small dose in the morning for the next several days."

The woman studied her.

"How much?"

Ironha told her.

The woman's expression changed immediately.

"That's all?"

"That's all."

"For healing and the tonic?"

"Yes."

Suspicion returned to the woman's face.

"Why?"

Ironha blinked. "Why what?"

"Why charge that little?"

Ironha understood then.

The woman wasn't questioning the treatment—she was questioning them.

"I've dealt with healers before," the woman continued. "One wouldn't even look at my husband's hand until we put coin on the table. Another doubled his price after he decided the wound was worse than we told him."

Ironha's expression softened.

"We don't do that here."

The woman studied her. "So you say."

Ironha held her gaze. "You don't have to believe me yet."

Ironha sighed. "Healing is my class, It's what I do. If someone needs help and I can provide it, I will."

"No catch?"

"No."

"No Guild contract?"

"No."

"No debt afterward?"

Ironha shook her head.

The woman continued watching her.

Finally she sighed.

"Rurran said you people were strange."

Doc looked up. "That sounds like him."

"He also said you were good people." She glanced toward the yellow duck visible through the front window. "Some of the Threeburrow folk have been saying the same thing."

Ironha waited.

The woman slowly extended her leg.

"I've trusted worse recommendations."

Ironha smiled faintly.

"I'll take it."

She placed both hands around the woman's knee.

"You're going to feel some warmth."

Green light gathered faintly beneath Ironha's fingers.

Pulseweave moved into the joint slowly.

The woman inhaled sharply.

Ironha watched the flow through Vital Sense as it settled into the inflamed tissue. She kept the spell light, enough to ease the irritation and encourage recovery without forcing too much vitality into an old joint.

After several seconds, she stopped.

The glow faded.

"Try moving it."

The woman bent her knee.

Then straightened it.

Her eyebrows rose.

She did it again.

"Well."

"Better?"

"It doesn't hurt as much."

"It'll probably stiffen again," Ironha said. "That's what the tonic is for. Come back in a week and I'll check it again."

The woman nodded slowly.

This time there was considerably less suspicion in it.

Ironha stood.

"Now, let's look at her hand."

The little girl had been watching the entire treatment from beside Maris.

When Ironha approached, she held up her bandaged fingers without being asked.

Doc brought the scanner over.

The girl's eyes widened when the light appeared.

"Does it hurt?"

"No," Doc said.

"Can it see my bones?"

"Yes."

"All of them?"

"In your hand."

The girl considered that.

"Can I see?"

Doc turned the display toward her.

She immediately forgot about being nervous.

Ironha removed the old cloth while the girl stared at the image of her own fingers.

The cut was shallow. Clean, too. Her mother had done a good job washing it.

Ironha cleaned it once more, used the smallest touch of Pulseweave to encourage the edges closed, then wrapped it in fresh cloth.

"There."

The girl flexed her fingers carefully.

"Done?"

"Done."

"That was fast."

Ironha smiled. "That's usually a good thing."

The old woman pushed herself up from the chair and tested her knee.

"Come on," she said to the girl. "We should get going."

Ironha walked them to the door.

The woman paused before stepping outside and looked back at Ironha.

"I'll tell the others."

Ironha raised an eyebrow. "Others?"

"The ones who said they'd wait and see if this place was worth anything."

She adjusted her cloak.

"I know a few people who could use a healer. I'll send them your way."

Ironha gave a small nod. "I'd appreciate that."

The woman looked once toward Doc, then back to Ironha.

"Next time I'm bringing my husband."

Then she headed out with the girl.

Ironha remained at the doorway for a moment, watching the old woman and the girl make their way down the street.

Before she could step back inside, another man approached with one arm held close to his side.

Behind him came a woman and a boy.

Ironha stepped aside and held the door open.

"Come in."

The man's injury was simple enough. He had strained his shoulder hauling stone two days earlier and had continued working through it until he could barely lift his arm.

Doc scanned the shoulder while Ironha examined the joint.

"No tear," Doc said, studying the display. "Mostly inflammation and muscle strain."

Ironha nodded.

"Good. That means I can help."

The man looked between them. "I still have work tomorrow."

"You should be able to work."

That got his attention.

Ironha rested one hand over the sore muscle and let a small amount of Pulseweave settle into it. The tension beneath her palm gradually eased.

When she pulled her hand away, the man cautiously rolled his shoulder.

Then again.

"How's that?"

He lifted the arm a little higher.

"Better."

Ironha reached for a small bottle from the shelf.

"Take a dose of this tonight. It'll help keep the swelling down."

He accepted it and looked at the label.

"Anything else?"

"Try not to lift anything heavier than you need to for a day or two”

The man nodded.

The woman behind him had an infected cut across her palm.

The boy had swallowed a fish bone.

By the time Ironha dealt with both, five more people were waiting near Ren's desk.

Now she was wondering how late they were going to stay open.

People arrived with problems they had been putting off for weeks or months, either because treatment had been out of reach or because they had convinced themselves it could wait.

A laborer came in with a back that had bothered him since summer.

An older man wanted someone to look at a lump near his wrist.

A mother brought two children with fevers and apologized three separate times for wasting Ironha's time.

"You aren't wasting my time," Ironha told her.

The woman looked unconvinced until Ironha examined both children and told her neither appeared seriously ill.

Some patients needed healing magic.

Others needed potions.

A surprising number only needed someone to tell them what was wrong and what to do about it.

Doc made himself useful wherever Ironha pointed him.

He ran scans, carried supplies up from the basement, cleaned equipment between patients, and once disappeared into the common room after Ironha mentioned she had forgotten to eat.

He returned several minutes later and placed a plate beside her workbench.

Ironha looked at it.

Then at him.

"You need to eat," Doc said.

"I know."

"Good."

He walked away before she could argue.

Ren handled the front desk with growing confidence. By midday, he had developed his own system for keeping track of names, treatments, payments, and return visits.

Maris moved between the treatment area and supply cabinets, replacing bandages, cleaning tools, and bringing Ironha what she needed.

Once, Ironha reached toward the cabinet for a clean cloth.

Maris placed one in her hand before she got there.

Ironha looked at her.

Maris smiled.

Ironha used the cloth.

During the first quiet stretch of the afternoon, Ironha finally sat down.

Her feet hurt.

Doc occupied a chair near the wall with a book open across one knee.

Ironha recognized the Academy seal stamped into the cover.

She stared at him.

Doc noticed after a moment.

"What?"

"I thought you took the day away from the library."

"I did."

Ironha looked at the book.

Doc followed her gaze.

"I'm not at the library."

"That isn't what I meant."

"I know."

"What are you reading?"

Doc turned the cover slightly.

"Basic Mana Circulation and Control."

Ironha blinked.

"Still?"

"The first book was apparently more basic than basic."

Doc had spent most days over the past two months at the Academy. If he wasn't at the library, he was watching lessons from the edge of a courtyard or bothering some unfortunate librarian with questions.

Doc still complained that he barely understood the fundamentals, and Lux seemed to agree with him.

Ironha had stopped taking either of them seriously on that point.

Two months ago, Doc had barely been able to move mana without frost spreading wherever it pleased. Now he could gather it and shape the cold where he wanted it.

For someone who had never touched mana before this winter, that was absurd.

A draft of cold air crossed the clinic as the front door opened again.

Doc closed the book and looked up.

Their break lasted less than five minutes.

By late afternoon, Calen and Kipp returned.

Kipp stepped through the doorway first and stopped.

Every chair was occupied.

Two people stood near the wall waiting for Ren to finish with the man at his desk, and another woman hovered just outside the entrance.

Kipp looked toward Ironha.

"We were going to tell more people."

"I think they know," Doc said.

A woman sitting nearest the door looked up.

"Old Sara said the healer here fixed her knee."

The man beside her nodded. "My brother heard the same thing."

Another patient glanced over from the wall.

"Someone at the butcher's said you had one of those enchanted devices that can see inside people."

Doc looked at Ironha.

Ironha ignored him.

Kipp turned slowly toward Calen.

Calen shrugged.

"Guess we're done advertising."

"No," Ironha said. "You're helping."

Kipp's expression fell.

Calen laughed and took off his coat.

The next few hours disappeared.

Calen helped Ren manage the growing line while Kipp ran supplies between the clinic and basement. Doc continued handling the scanners whenever Ironha needed them.

Near sunset, a man came through the door supporting his wife beneath one arm.

She was favoring her left leg, and the cloth wrapped around her calf had darkened through near the bottom.

Ironha was on her feet immediately.

"Treatment bed."

Doc helped the man get her settled while Ironha carefully unwrapped the bandage.

The wound beneath it wasn't fresh. A long cut ran across the outside of the calf, badly swollen around the edges. Someone had cleaned it at some point, but not well enough.

Ironha frowned.

"How long ago?"

"Six days," the woman said.

Ironha looked up. "Six?"

Her husband shifted beside the bed.

"We thought it would close on its own."

"It didn't."

"No."

Ironha placed two fingers near the wound.

Vital Sense settled in.

Heat spread beneath the skin farther than she liked. The infection had moved beyond the cut itself, but it had not reached deep enough to threaten the rest of the leg.

Not yet.

"Doc. I want a scan."

He brought the bio-scanner over and passed it slowly along the woman's calf.

Ironha watched the display with him.

"Still localized," Doc said. "Mostly soft tissue."

"Good."

The woman's husband looked between them. "Is it bad?"

"It's infected," Ironha said. "But you came in before it became something worse."

He looked away.

"You knew?" Ironha asked

"We went to a healer three days ago."

That stopped her.

"And?"

The man hesitated. "We couldn't afford what he wanted."

Ironha looked back at the swollen leg.

Three days.

She kept the thought to herself.

"Maris, hot water and clean cloth. Ren, bring me one of the infection tonics from the locked cabinet."

Both moved.

Ironha rested her hands above the wound and let Vital Equilibrium settle through the leg.

The infection showed itself differently beneath the skill. Healthy vitality moved around it, disrupted and uneven where the damaged tissue struggled to recover.

Ironha narrowed the flow.

She didn't cut the area off completely. She redirected enough vitality away from the spreading inflammation to slow it, then reinforced the healthier tissue around the wound.

The woman sucked in a breath.

"Pain?"

"Pressure."

"Tell me if it becomes worse."

Maris arrived with the water.

Ironha cleaned the wound thoroughly while Doc monitored the scan beside her.

Ren returned with the potion.

Ironha checked the bottle before handing it to Doc.

"Half."

Doc measured the dose.

The woman drank it and grimaced.

"That tastes awful."

"It usually does," Ironha said.

Her husband gave a nervous laugh.

Ironha continued working.

By the time she finished, the angry heat around the wound had begun to ease. The swelling remained, but Vital Sense showed the spread slowing.

She wrapped the leg with fresh bandages.

"Keep weight off it tonight if you can. Take the next dose in the morning."

The man nodded.

"And bring her back tomorrow."

"We will."

Ironha looked at him until he met her eyes.

"If it worsens before then, you come back sooner."

"I understand."

That was enough.

They left a short while later, the woman leaning on her husband but walking more easily than when she had arrived.

Ironha watched the door close behind them.

She pushed the thought aside.

There were still patients waiting.

By the time the light outside began to fade, her shoulders ached and her hands had grown stiff from hours of work.

Ren was still writing at the reception desk.

Maris changed the linens on the treatment bed they had just emptied.

Calen stood near the front speaking with the last few people waiting, while Kipp came up from the basement carrying another stack of clean bandages.

Doc was beside an older man, waiting for the scanner to finish.

Ironha looked toward the chairs.

Three people remained.

That morning, she had wondered whether anyone would come.

Now she was wondering how late they were going to stay open.

She rolled the stiffness from her shoulders and walked toward the next patient.

"Who's next?"

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