“It’s the most I can do,” I say with a sweetened smile after healing my final patient for the night.

He thanks me profusely, pulling me in for yet another hug. Though I’m quite exhausted at the moment, I can’t contain the smile that creeps onto my face.

Unlike most, I hold the magic of healing; a power most people would kill for- and some have tried. Despite the tiring responsibilities that come with such a gift, the exhilarating rush of saving a life is priceless.

I leave the hospital, a slight skip in my step. I had managed to heal all of the people gravely injured from the recent battle, a new personal record for myself. Battles occur often as my kingdom fights its neighbor in an everlasting war. They’ve been enemies for ages; war is practically everyday life.

That said, this war makes my gift that much more important. There are other healers, yes, but not many. Or at least I’ve never met any others, but I’ve heard plenty rumors.

I arrive to my small abode and set aside the small work satchel I keep at my side. Though I don’t necessarily need the material to heal people, it helps to use ordinary substances at times to conserve my energy.

I let myself fall onto the soft blankets that rest on my bed. The days feel repetitive at times, but the reassurance that I’m saving lives keeps me going.

Because I’m doing the right thing.

I’m being a good person.

And with those final thoughts my brains drifts into nothingness.

. . .

I don’t dream in the night, and it’s almost as if I don’t sleep at all when I wake up at the crack of dawn. A yawn escapes my throat and I sit up for another long day. I silently hope that both sides of the war decide to take a break from the constant battles, but I doubt that will ever be the case.

I sluggishly get ready, though I don’t have to do much as I had fallen asleep in my work clothes. As I leave my peaceful sanctuary and travel through the village, I listen to the murmurs of the villagers.

“Oh I hope they solve this,” a woman dejectedly whispers.

“I hope they find the bastard that did it,” another spits in reply, anger rippling off her person. “They’ll have hell to pay, that’s for sure.”

My eyebrows crease with worry. Talk like this is never good, there must’ve been a rough battle last night.

I arrive shortly to the hospital and chaos awaits me.

People yell commands from across the room; men and women are charted away on stretchers, some look already dead.

I run up to the first nurse I can find that isn’t running off to a patient. She looks panicked as I approach her.

The worry in my head increases.

“What’s happened?” I ask frantically, “What’s happening?” I adjust my question as I watch another group of people enter the hospital with more injured.”

“Look, I don’t know I just-“ the nurse gestures around in quick, confusing motions, completely exasperated. “There’s been no battle people are just somehow… dying.” She bursts into tears, rushing off in another direction.

I take a deep breath, preparing myself to use a great tole of power. I walk into the nearest room I can find. Normally, patients receive their own room due to the hospitals size; however, today people are stuffed into each and every room. The first room I enter has 7 people, in fact.

I walk up to the doctor who looks as sick as his patients.

“Where should I start?” I struggle to catch my breath. There’s no need for introductions, the doctor immediately recognizes me.

“Anywhere,” he says, taking a shallow breath. “Just anywhere.”

I start with the most nearby patient: a young man in a soldier uniform. Unmasked hope gleams in his eyes, the same look is shared through the other patients as they anxiously wait their turn.

I begin to examine him; he looks on the verge of death but I can’t quite sense a particular spot of trauma.

“Are you having trouble breathing? Sharp pains in any areas?” I run down my usual list of questions. The patient, however, responds with a resounding no.

“It’s…” he starts. “I don’t know how to explain it- it’s like I’m dying but I don’t know how!”

I think to myself for a moment. Since this mysterious cause seems to have befallen everyone, I may as well see how my magic reacts to him.

Before I begin, however, he says, “Thank you. You’ve healed me in the past as well and… I’m just so thankful.”

Murmurs of agreement spread around. I scan the room, vaguely recognizing the faces. It seems I’ve healed these people before… I pray it’s simply a weird coincidence.

As I start to test my magic on the original patient, he bellows in agony. Before I can continue, his eyes are bloodshot and he’s screaming.

Screams fill my ears.

Blood spills into my vision.

And death invades my senses.

The other patients stare, terrified.

…

He’s dead.

My hands are shaking and suddenly everything is in slow motion.

People are backing away.

They scream until their screams are towards me and then I realize.

I’ve killed him.

A choke on a sob, choke on a million questions that want to escape my mind. I have killed him, a previous patient of mine.

The dots connect in my head but I wish I could tear them apart. I want to destroy the realization, the reality.

“Just like you destroyed that boy,” my mind whispers.

I don’t realize I’m running until I reach the exit of the hospital. Familiar, agonized faces flood my vision. Their terror and fear shoots bullets through me.

I don’t stop running.

People chase after me, some in anger, others in confusion. I can’t hear them, I can’t even hear my own screams as the pain of others drowns out my own.

I’ve always viewed myself as a healer, one who fixes. Yet I never fathomed the idea that I could be wrong, that my gift could hurt instead of heal.

I clench my hands until my nails pierce my palm, blood spills down my elbow.

I deserve this pain.

I deserve it.

I-

. . .

Suddenly all black appears, I’m vaguely aware that I’ve passed out, or at least I believe I have.

I wonder what they’ll do to me. I wonder if they know.. I wonder if they care.

I’m not sure if I care anymore.

I would laugh if I wasn’t passed out. So much has happened in such a short time, my whole life comes crumbly down after I’ve spent so long building it.

I’m unsure I even understand how or why my power suddenly has these effects, but it no longer matters.

It has happened and they know who’s responsible. I think back to the villager’s comment from before. “They’ll have hell to pay,” she had said.

I suppose I will.