"I hear the ancient footsteps, like the motion of the sea. "Sometimes I turn, there's someone there, other times it's only me. "I am hanging in the balance of the reality of man, "Like every sparrow falling, like every grain of sand." —Bob Dylan, "Every Grain of Sand"

- ————- - —

At the door of the Riverview Clinic, Archie Kennedy found himself hesitating. He had the intention to enter the clinic, but his feet didn't seem to be carrying him forward anymore. His blue eyes traced the perimeter, taking in the details of the building while he tried to work up the strength to move forward.

His life had changed so much since he had left to Aberliath, he almost felt as if he was returning a completely different person. Something inside told him differently, though.

A certain amount of fear was gripping his heart. It caused a chain reaction throughout his body, allowing his feet to be unresponsive, his fists to clench, and his mind to race. He had never been a fan of doctors or hospitals or clinics — not since he was a child and was subjected to his fair share. Thankfully, his parents had learned early enough that there was little use in continuing to send their youngest son to physicians that eventually all came to the same conclusion.

The fear didn't seem to come from there, though. He had come to accept the condition that had plagued him as a child and as a young man. It held little bearing over his decision-making process.

No, it was something else that left him standing at the front door, clutching several bags of candy he had purchased from a lady at the Inn; It was the children.

Aberliath had changed him. He couldn't deny that fact, simply because he was standing at a threshold and struggling where he wouldn't have before. It was the children that were doing it, and he wasn't quite certain how he felt about that fact. The hesitation was abnormal for Archie, but he dreaded the thought that he might find himself deep in despair at the sight of the sick children.

Years of teaching young children had fashioned him differently. He had grown accustomed to caring about his students, their futures, their lives....It was his job to care whether to not those children were prepared for the harsh world ahead of them, and while he wondered how much difference he made in them, he had a very clear picture of the differences the children made in him.

Really, that was the one thing that started his feet moving. As he reached for the door of the clinic, he thought to himself that such simple acts can change the outcome of a person's life, for better or worse.

He remembered being young and wishing for a moment of kindness, or a stayed hand. He remembered being young and wishing for a friendly face. It seemed like so long ago, but it wasn't really. At least he could try to be a friendly face behind a moment of kindness.

With one last, deep breath, Archie Kennedy stepped through the doors of the Riverview Clinic and directly to the front desk. He smiled to the seemingly busy staff member behind the counter, and gestured to himself. "My name's Archie Kennedy. Ms. Maranya told me it would be all right to stop by and take a tour." He held up a bag of hard candy, his expression brightening quite a bit. "I even brought sweets!"

"Trouble, oh trouble, "Trouble on my mind. "But the trouble in the world, Lord, "Is much more bigger than mine. "Hey, hey, so I guess I'm doin' fine." —Bob Dylan, "Guess I'm Doin' Fine"

Archie was in the middle of taking in his surroundings when Ms. Maranya arrived. Graciously, he bowed his head to her in greeting. "It's good to see you again." His comment nearly got lost in the din of commotion within the clinic.

If he were forced to describe the atmosphere surrounding him, he might have called it "organized chaos." That is, he would have described it that way, but he could tell that the clinic leaned more towards "organized," and less towards "chaos." Ultimately, he understood that any sort of business not his own would appear chaotic, even if it wasn't. If it were a ship, he could see the sense in the seemingly senseless movement. If it were a classroom, he'd likely see it as well. Clinics were unfamiliar, though, so he saw it as chaos he didn't understand.

"I think it would be best for the expert to choose," Kennedy commented, gesturing to Maranya. He had just recently noticed Renne's prompt arrival, and his hand continued from his motion to ruffle the Imp's hair, letting the little blue thing know that Archie had noted his arrival. "Unless you have a preference, that is..." He spoke to Renne, giving him a chance to decide, too. He would be happy with whatever was chosen.

As he finished his comment, he allowed his mind to drift a little. There was something familiar about the clinic — a sort of eerie, uneasy feeling that echoed of a different time and place.

Scent was one of the quickest ways to trigger a memory, it was said. The sterile nature of his surroundings had a scent — a peculiar smell that took him back to his youngest years. He was an "ailing boy" back then; a particularly fragile creature in his mother's eyes. The physicians were many, and the answers were few — at least, they were few back in the time where Archie had originated.

The difference of two hundred years was strikingly obvious, even as he took in his surroundings. It didn't change what he felt, though. Memory told him that it was lonely to be a child and sick. He hadn't understood what was happening, and had no friends he could speak to with a common frame of reference. Despite his loving and caring family, (which consisted of two healthy parents and three rather large, overprotective brothers,) Archie's childhood had felt lonely. He had few peers back then, and of those peers, none could claim to understand his ailment. It was not an unhappy childhood, just a lonely one.

So many years later, he was happy to visit the clinic. He was hoping the hard candy and a little company would allow an ailing child not to feel the same sort of loneliness he had felt.

"Go 'way little boy, "You're much too late, "Your future's lookin' bright. "Don't throw it away tonight. "It's getting hard for me to look you in the eye. "Go 'way little boy, "Can't you see that you're makin' me cry." — Bob Dylan, "Go 'Way Little Boy" There was little familiarity to the setting, but the feelings were still the same. If it weren't for the years between the present and his childhood, he might have felt trapped. The building was much vaster than he had imagined, but the walls threatened to tell him tales of the past.

He understood the feeling, but he didn't much like it. Much time on the road to recovery told him that no good lay in that line of thinking. There was something else, as well, but he knew he didn't want to think about that.

It was the reason he was in Rhy'Din. It was the reason he wasn't in front of his classroom, teaching the young, promising children. But he didn't want to think about that. Not now.

Momentarily, he reeled himself back to reality and glanced around as they approached their first destination. He could feel a slight charge in the air — a sort of electricity that told him there was high tension not too far off. It made sense, of course. An emergency room, even as quiet as it might be this day, was never far from a serious situation.

He pawed aimlessly at the bag of hard candy. "This seems very modern." An idle comment, considering. Archie wasn't even sure why he was surprised. Rhy'Din was an enigma, after all. "I should think that's quite a benefit, considering the volatile nature of the area, and the..." As he was trying to pin down the right word, he looked up at his brain without even knowing it — a typical action when sifting through one's mental dictionary. "—the fragility of some sick children."

In his pause, Kennedy had realized he appreciated the clinic, even if he'd only just come to hear of it. There was no doubt that children had grown on him, and knowing there was a place dedicated to helping hit a soft spot in his chest.

Some children can't be helped. He had to understand and deal with that. But, for more, there was help. The Riverview Clinic was a good place to start.

The tasks are done and the tears are shed. Yesterday's errors let yesterday cover; Yesterday's wounds, which smarted and bled, Are healed with the healing that night has shed. — Sarah Chauncey (Susan Coolidge) Woolsey

Maranya nodded, and let her hand drop back to her side. She mulled over her responses to the comments from her companions on the tour as they approached the emergency room. "Da, we are quite modern here. When I first took over as Director of Riverview? bozhe moi, this place was basically a shell, with only token equipment. This, this is after four years of hard work."

Her proud smile lit her face when she gestured to the state of the art emergency room bays. She nodded in approval at one of the residents hard at work suturing a child's hand back together after what looked like a close encounter with a weed whacker. "Good job, Karl. That should heal up nicely."

That comment triggered a memory. Doctor Valkonan's lips pursed in thought as she tried to come up with the right words to explain her dual skills in the healing arts. "Renne, I heal in many ways. First of all, I am a doctor, by the book. " Her brows furrowed briefly. "What that means is, most of the time here, I use what most would call conventional means. That is much like what Karl there was doing, physical means, like surgery, or the use of medicines." Maranya's hazel eyed gaze looked between Renne and Archie in a silent request for confidentiality before she continued, in lower tones, "And I am a healer, born of fire. I can also heal someone by metaphysical means, from the inside out. I do not use that here often, as I respect the patient's wishes, and those of their parents or guardians."

The Good Doctor turned her attention back to her companions on the tour as they moved on down the line. "Next on the tour are the operating rooms. We won't be able to go inside, of course, but I can take you up to the observation deck to see one of them. Riverview is a teaching hospital, after all."

The Reality of Man The Science of Healing Words

"The chief virtue that language can have is clearness, and nothing detracts from it so much as the use of unfamiliar words." —Hippocrates







She spoke in a lower tone when she explained her healing arts.

It didn't escape him that she did and he wondered now, not just of the curious machinery-sounds but of other potential here. He understood it — her low tone and her reverence for such ways.

He thought for a moment, then nodded as he permitted none but Maranya and Archie as ears to his own words. Honestly, he felt a pang of guilt at keeping so much of himself a secret away, from Archie especially. The man had been nothing but good to him. Confusing at times, as all too often Renne felt afraid to ask Archie questions. But he'd always been good to Renne, having never aimed confusing words or concept at him. Or confusing, conflicting emotions. He'd always been as Renne's instinct first read Mister Kennedy.

And now, his instincts screamed at him to have a 'listen' to what Maranya had to say.

He wanted to return the trust her voice indicated she had just shown in them.

"Rrr-enne do tha-t too. Bu-t is noht Mah-gic."

Inwardly, he wondered how that would be taken — truly, his clarification of non-magic methods on his part was not intended as an insult. Still, even by his scientific-biological and Emotional ways of things, a part of him feared what his companions might think. Idly, he remembered a reaction, years ago, to a jar of water he'd rescued from his homeland's oceans.

All he could do was hope.

He turned his head up toward Archie then and explained at least why he never spoke of his own abilities above a whisper. "Serr 'Chee, so-me krrrit-terrr thin-k, is ba-d. Is...Dif-ferrrr-ehn-t. Is...E-vil. Is why Rrr-enne ma-ke se-crrret."

Renne had for years now, found it puzzling that, for all its magical and modern mixes roaming about, some life-forms could still find things taboo. It was true that his own body biologically couldn't handle magic — that magic could kill him as surely as a strong-enough onslaught of anger could. But to shun a resource simply for its difference, it puzzled him. It disturbed him and taught him early on to keep some secrets if he wanted to remain alive.

He held his plushie close as they moved on, falling quiet for a while. Renne knew his mind was turning inward again; didn't want it to, but it did.

Wondering had become almost second nature with him.

Too much and too many have caused him need to wonder.

Down below the viewing balcony, the operation had already completed the preparation positions and were, more or less, into the meat of things. The bear leaned slightly over the patient, maneuvering a scalpel about 1/200 times smaller than his paw over the anterior vena cava, tracing it around the circumference of the blood-delivering tube. The portions on either end were clamped off for a moment before a fistula was fed into the heart, the other into the aorta lateral to the anterior vena cava. One of the nurses pressed on some buttons on a machine with large rotating dials.

"Dialysis in progress, doctor. We can begin the procedure."

"Snorlax." The bear nodded and as if through instinct, the surgical technologist on hand handed another scalpel into him. The bear's slitted eyes kept the small, sharp blade on an accurate line down the pericardium covering the enlarged right ventricle. On a large screen above the operating table, a close-up image of the heart being worked on was tilted towards the viewing area.

The surgical R.N. assigned to help oversee the operation opened a line to the intercom. "Sorry for the wait Ms. Valkonan. The patient being worked on is a 13 year old male. Seven months ago, he was presented to the clinic with bouts of arrhythmia and below average blood pressure. Eventually he was referred to pediatric cardiology. Ultrasound tests concluded that the right side of his heart had abnormal superlative growth compared to the left side, which we attributed to a disorder commonly found in those of half-human, half-orc lineage. Dr. Lax right now is proceeding with a technique we call heart sculpting. The right ventricle will be trimmed of excess cardiac muscle, as with the anterior and posterior vena cava. Following the operation, the child is expessed to have a recovery period of 1-2 weeks with dialysis every other day, until his circulatory system can adapt to the pressure of the smaller heart."