What should I do now?

And what could I do?

These thoughts, often associated with existential crises or life and death drama, ran wild inside my head. This moment, this one decision, might be the turning point of my life. The difference between a celebrated commander and a dishonored laid-off. A single thought could change history.

I chuckled at my weird thoughts.

There was no life and death crisis, no turning point in history, and no drama either. Instead, my questions had a way simpler origin.

This life bore me. To death.

Hard enough to kill time in the middle of nowhere. But winter made it worse.

No computer, no TV, no smartphone, no gaming consoles. No surprise here. But the village offered nothing to read either. In fact, only two of the elders were literate. So no magazine, no journal, no books, nothing to immerse myself into. Stuck with conversations and solitude. Good luck finding enough topics after a few days.

“Ooh, today’s weather is exquisite.” - “Did you hear? The baby girl ate snow. For the 126th time.” - “My consultant recommended real estate to me. So now I plan to build an igloo.”

Back to solitude.

Or it should have been.

But ever since the festival, Thea had tried to insert me into gatherings with other families, pulling me along as if I was her little brother. She pushed me until I recognized all the villagers by name. And in return they greeted me. Sometimes they even pulled me aside and congratulated me. What for?

Did she feel sorry? Or pity? I think Thea might have misunderstood my >I don’t belong here

A girl’s thoughtfulness had a certain warmth to it. And I had longed for such during my lengthy hospital stays.

But even those gatherings didn’t last all day.

Mornings for skill training. I took my ax, cut down a tree, and chopped it into spare firewood. Heavy Strike was my only skill, so I had to strengthen it as much as possible. Even a bad skill boosted my chance for survival.

But using Heavy Strike took a considerable toll on my endurance and a handful of usages put me down for the count. After all, this village lacked not only entertainment and wealth, it also lacked well-balanced nutrition. We wouldn’t starve, but surviving the cold winter cost a lot of energy and the scarce stews didn’t help much.

Hence my morning routine became a rather short workout. Go to the forest edge, use Heavy Strike for ten times, go back home. Altogether an hour of distraction.

The same was true for today.

Thea had no further plans, which brought along my existential questions. How should I fill so much free time? It wasn’t even noon, so another 10 hours of boredom awaited me.

The snow crunched under my feet. It piled up to my shin, and each step became arduous work on its own. A week ago I had tried hunting, but the snow had buried the traps before they caught anything. So neither Experience Points nor meat for me. Just another stew day.

Shouts echoed through the air.

Did something happen? From afar, I saw many people on the village square, making a ruckus. Should I run over there? Did they need help?

I stopped my steps and watched for a minute.

At least they didn’t show visible signs of a fight. Instead, it looked more like simple agitation.

Something urgent? Maybe an unknown traveler? Or did something else happen? One of the youthful women was pregnant, and according to her round belly, today might just be her big day.

She was a lovely person, so I made my way over to congratulate her.

But one detail nagged at the back of my mind. Something was off. Their actions? No. Their clothes? No. Their faces? Yes. Their facial expression didn’t fit. Not filled with joy, but dread instead? Problems with the childbirth? An unhealthy child? Or even a stillbirth?

My imagination showed me one horror scenario after another. Until Thea noticed me and came over.

“Aki,” she called out to me, her face visibly paled. “Uno is dying.”

What?

That brat is… dying?

But how? Why?

“He’s ill.” Thea answered my visible confusion. “He didn’t feel good for the last two days and slept all the time. But now he coughed until he fell unconscious.”

Unconscious? Fuck.

No wonder everyone lost their head. The village had no doctor, not even someone who used household remedies. Nobody knew what to do.

“What… what now?”

“Uno’s father wants to take him to the herb woman. But that’s a three day travel by foot. And through all that snow. Elder Rolf thinks they won’t make it.”

A three day summer travel might turn into a week with all the snow. A week without shelter would kill the boy, so this was nothing but a desperate gamble. Hopeless.

I followed Thea inside and saw Uno’s mother screaming at her husband. Unfocused eyes, ruffled hair, red eyes. Not at all like the gentle woman from before. And the father just stood there in silence, taking everything in. He probably understood that his plan was useless, but couldn’t do nothing. Some fresh scratches and marks on arms and face. To him, letting his wife vent her despair, might be the right thing to do.

I hated it.

More so, those eyes. The same look of despair. Faces that displays their owner’s despair. Their entire appearance screamed giving up.

I hated it.

The same look my mother had. The same look all the caregivers had. Their knowledge of my end that had always resurfaced when they thought I slept. The proof that all their pleasant words were just lies. Comfortable lies. Soothing lies. But lies nonetheless.

I don’t want to see it again.

Therefore I should concentrate on Uno instead.

The little brat lay in his bed, eyes closed, and breathed roughly. Sweat drenched his clothes and covered the red face. A fever? I checked his temperature with my hand against his forehead. Yes, he was burning. Given his condition, he wouldn’t survive even one day of travel, let alone a week. There was nothing we could do.

Nothing that can be done. Please understand that we tried our best. Nobody plans for that. We have to make the best out of it. A missed party isn’t that bad, we can always repeat it. We can celebrate your birthday when you are fine. There will always be better days and worse days. That is normal. Oh, he didn’t invite you to the party, because he thought you wouldn’t come, anyway. Eat or you won’t get better. Don’t worry, I’m here with you. Let’s meet inside the game! So how are we today? Do you want to talk with a priest? Don’t be ashamed, that’s a normal reaction. I’ve seen it before. No, you won’t be able to walk again. Please understand. There was nothing we could do.

STOP!

Drip.

A tear landed on Uno’s face.

Unfair. Life was so unfair. And we just sit here and let it happen.

What should I do? What could I do?

No other chance but to accept it?

“What did he do?” I asked, trying to suppress my inner turmoil. “What did he do before he fell ill? Did he eat something? Or played with something?”

“What… um… you…” Uno’s mother stammered, her rant losing all her momentum. “Can you help him?”

“I don’t know. But I don’t want to accept this.”

She looked at me, straight into my eyes. I saw despair in them, sorrow, and a little strand of hope. I wondered what she would find in mine?

“He did nothing special.” She finally answered. “Uno just played with the other children. And we ate the same as him.”

“He played? Where?”

“By the old field. Or under the old tree. Those were his favorite spots.”

“So outside…”

I checked his clothes. Made of multiple layers of linen, some added fur for shoes and hat, and a big linen overcoat. And that… was it? So thin. Yes, this village is poor, but he played outside with that? No wonder he got sick.

But this might be a chance. If it was something like the flu, or a severe cold, there might be some hope left.

“Thea, I need a bucket. And the dried berries we kept. Also some linen. Some stew. And more blankets.”

I listed anything that came to mind and they ran to get it. No questions asked, no what ifs. In the end, this was better than nothing.

The most pressing issue was the fever. So I asked Thea to bring me ice and applied cold leg compresses. This should bring his temperature down. Afterwards we wrapped him up tightly in blankets and waited in silence.

Uno’s mother cooked a stew with the berries and some other fruits, which I fed the still unconscious boy. At least, he was still swallowing. That had to be a good sign, right?

And that was all. Leg compresses against the fever, stew to replenish liquid, and rest to heal. Nothing much. And all I could do.

After that came the nerve-wracking wait.

Uno’s mother checked his condition every minute until I asked her to cook more stew. And I sent the stressed father to check up on the mother. The patient needed rest. And so did his parents.

“Are you a doctor’s apprentice?” Thea asked as soon as we were alone. “You looked so poor, so I didn’t know you were learned.”

“I’m not learned.” I sighed. “This is only the level of care anyone knew back home. If a doctor… no. This is nothing. Nothing at all. It’s only better than nothing.”

“Your home? And everyone is this learned?” Thea had round eyes. “Where did you come from?”

“I’m sorry, I can’t tell you.” I put her off. “You wouldn’t understand. Or believe it.”

“But…”

“I’m sorry.”

Afterwards, silence and the boy’s smooth breaths filled the room. Thea stayed with me, helping with the compress replacement. Beside that, I just leaned against the wall and enjoyed the quiet, forcing myself to think nothing.

No questions wanted.

No self-doubt needed.

Only silence.

Coziness.

Sleepiness.

A scream.

I forced my eyes open.

What was happening? Did I fall asleep?

But then I saw Uno’s mother, embracing her son, crying.

“Mom, I’m alright,” the brat protested against the rough treatment. “Also Thea is watching…”

I laughed and searched for the person in question.

She stood beside the married couple, a wry smile on her face.

But when her gaze found mine, it contained something different.

Gratitude.

Life was unfair. That much was true. But this time we fought against it.