Men live to die and die to say they have lived. It is a beautiful closed circle. One proves and facilitates the other.

Now one has to ask what happens in case of an ageless Divine. At what point can we say that we have lived?

– Excerpt from Goddess Malam’s, of Hatred’s, “The Divine Mind.”

Kavaa stepped out of the large van Etala had procured to serve as transport from the airport to Anver’s General Hospital. Just as she had asked of Etala, they had indeed simply just skipped the initial meetings with the UNN’s government and gone straight to work. That was good, Kavaa had never been fond of politics. She always considered the sort of person who simply did their damn job and didn’t bother asking question, unless those questions were absolutely essential to the success of the job itself. The Goddess of Health stared up at Anver’s General Hospital. It was a huge building that looked like a series of boxes overlapping on each other’s territory. Red and orange brick was highlighted by white panels and glass windows. Functional and large and not particularly designed for aesthetics, yet Kavaa had to admit that the building was far from ugly. Above the huge doors of glass on the front was the hospital’s name: Anver Health.

“We have a Health University here.” Etala said as all but ran around the black van which had transported the two Divines here. Kavaa’s bureaucratic assistants had all gotten their own transport. A few had gone off to find hotels for the rest of the men, a few were on their way here, a few more were scouting the city and asking about. Others would be researching the local laws on where a complex could be started for the Clerics. If Anver was the UNN’s capital, then Anver should also have a Clerical Headquarters here. It may be troublesome politically but the Goddess of Health didn’t particularly care. The difference between her and Arascus was small, but it was there: Arascus spent time convincing others what was good them, Kavaa had no such moral compunctions. Ultimately, what a Doctor said was the end of the debate and the patient could either be so kind as to take the damn medicine or they could die.

“So you have students working in Anver Health?” Kavaa asked as Etala smoothed out that suit of hers. Kavaa smiled, to herself, her own black coat looked far better than Etala’s suit. The thick black fabric brought out the greyness of Kavaa’s hair and eyes. “This is a pretty hospital by the way.”

“We do.” Etala said and almost tripped over her own words. “And thank you.” She opened her mouth as if to speak and closed it again, and then opened it again. “Thank you, I didn’t think you’d like it.” Kavaa extended an arm to the door.

“Are we going through there or through the back?”

“Do you want to see inside?” Etala asked. Did she? Why would she? What sort of sick mind wanted to see the downtrodden and the diseased in a hospital? And yet even Kavaa knew that wasn’t the correct answer. Ultimately, one did not visit hospitals for their own enjoyment.

“Lead the way.” Kavaa said. She supposed it would be a good way to see what she was working with here. “I assume no one is ready for my arrival.”

“I’ve rang ahead but I don’t think so.” Etala said flatly.

“It’s good that you’re not trying to lie.”

“As you said, it’s my people, not yours. What gain could lying bring me in this situation?” Etala asked. Kavaa pushed the disbelieving bitterness away from her own mind. Etala was correct, what gain could she have to lie?

“Then take the long way around. I’m going to put the operations on pause and I want every doctor, every surgeon and every nurse and every medical professional you have to stand…” Actually no, that wouldn’t work. “You don’t have a hall or a gym, do you?”

“It’s a hospital, not a school.” Etala replied as she lead the way for the other Goddess inside. Through the glass doors, Etala could already see that the situation had the traces of being almost on the point of collapse. Patient beds had been rolled out into the corridor and a pair of nurses in bright blue uniforms were given a man some sort of injection. There were more waiting, none of them were in condition that was so bad it became negligent but patients all in the same clothes of blue paler than the nurse uniforms spilling over into the waiting room was never a good sign. An unattended cart full of bandages and syringes and pharmaceuticals stood in the middle of the room. There were five receptionists behind the wooden desk. Four of them were talking to patients or whoever over the large phones. Kavaa could smell vomit the moment Etala opened the door, from the right. There was a young boy, no larger than six or maybe seven sitting on his mother’s knees, his shirt was dirty with ugly yellow chunks. There was a quiet, soothing song playing over the speakers, that was unusual for hospitals that usually wanted silence but Kavaa’s ears picked up the odd moan every few seconds that came from the corridors. A doctor in a white coat stormed out of one door and into another without even looking at the two Divines. His coat had blood on it. There were droplets of blood on the floor too and Kavaa could always recognise that coppery scent no matter where she was.

A man finally saw the two Goddesses enter. The nurses did too. They smiled at Etala and then they melted with relief when they saw Kavaa. Of course they would, Kavaa doubted there was anyone who could spend a day in this profession without silently cursing her for not being here. Kavaa herself did not like attending these places anyway, for every face that would walk out of here with relief, there would be two cursing her from outside for being late.

“Goddesses!” One of the nurses shouted.

“I expect you to be my assistant for the immediate while.” Kavaa said coldly to the Goddess at her side. “Get everyone who works here and tell them to stand out in the car park unless there’s an operation going. And get me my two Clerics. I heard there’s police here.”

“I sent them home.” Etala said.

“Good.” Kavaa was about to tell the woman to do just that. “Then just get me my Clerics and tell the staff to come outside.”

“Are you sure?”

“One of the rules of Divinity is that people come to us.” Kavaa said. “Get my Clerics to stabilize anyone who is about to keel over.” Kavaa said and didn’t give Etala a chance to reply. Whatever she had to say wasn’t important and, more importantly, Kavaa was in no mood to explain herself nor was she any good at argumentation. But she didn’t need to be.

Health spoke for itself.

Kavaa crossed the distance to the two nurses, making sure not to step on any of the patient’s feet or toes. Some were swollen, one man looked as if his toes had been submerged in ice. The situation inside must be bad if this is man was waiting out here. It must be terrible if even with two Clerics, they had this many waiting. The nurses looked up at Kavaa, one was a man, the other a woman. The fellow saluted, the woman started to explain the syringe in her hand as if she was about to panic. “I just gave an injection for-“ Kavaa leaned past the woman and touched the man’s forehead. He was groaned in pain. Immediately, Kavaa felt his heartbeat, his temperature, the fire in his chest. None of it hurt and Kavaa didn’t exactly know the exact mechanism in the same way that Kassie didn’t know what the sword she summoned was made out of. In a single instant, she simply knew everything that was going on in his body. He had fallen over, something had cut him but not gone deep.

“Tetanus infection.” Kavaa said. “In his abdomen.” The nurse fell silent as the fellow fell to a sleep. While she was here though, she may at least do a good job. The scar on his back that had been there for at least ten years was covered over with fresh skin. The minor scratch on his ribs was also gone. His right knee was bad. He also had the flu. Kavaa exterminated the illness out of him. The illness and the injection he just received. All of it. He would be hungry in the morning. She took her hand off his head and flicked his forehead. The man woke up. He looked up at Kavaa and his lips quivered. “You are free to go.” The man blinked as if in horror or surprise or whatever the emotion going on in him was. Kavaa did not care. She just watched him suddenly realise he was not dead and touch his side obviously expecting to flinch. He mumbled something unintelligible.

“I’m…” He said and trailed off as the nurses both looked at him.

“You’re healed. Stand up and test your knee if you don’t believe me.” Kavaa stood just over half-again the height of the people by her side. She saw one of the nurses flinch and move to grab their patient when he pulled himself out of his seat. And then take a step back when the man tested his leg. One of the people started to cheer. Another held his breath. The man’s lip quivered. His eyes started to shine with tears. He looked up at the Goddess of Health.

“Thank you.” He said and dropped to his knees.

“Don’t bang it again or I’ll start charging.” Kavaa said and turned around. That woman with the child caught her attention. She held her son up for the Goddess to see and one of the other patients called out.

“The child Goddess. Please.” Kavaa’s grey eyes met Etala’s blue ones. Kavaa should have not come inside. She knew that things would end up like this. She simply did not have the energy to muster up any bitterness and tell the woman that her son would not die in the next few moments and to wait it out. Etala took a step aside, made an apologetic smile and tilted her head to the woman. It was all Kavaa could do not to audibly sigh with displeasure in front of everyone here. She approached the woman and touched her forehead without waiting for introductions.

Poor teeth. Some lung tarnish from smoking in her youth and some fumes from recently. Inane gut parasites. Her nose was blocked from crying. Her eyes hurt. Refugee from the wave probably. The woman was knocked out for all of an instant, her maladies disappeared, she awoke. The woman blinked, Kavaa was touching her son. Unless a child was dying, she preferred to do the parent first just to show off that she could in fact heal and to shut them up. The boy was having an allergic reaction to nuts that was overwhelming his medication. In one instant, Kavaa wiped the trace elements of the legumes out of his body to cease his spiral, in the next, Kavaa solved the core issue. “I’ve cured his allergy entirely, don’t give him shots again.” Kavaa said coldly and the woman burst out in tears as she hugged her son. The boy looked as if he didn’t know what just happened. He hugged his mother back in return though, his breathing was normal and he didn’t seem to realise there was vomit on his shirt.

“That was amazing.” Etala said. “You really cured his allergy?” She said it louder than Kavaa did and the room cheered. A few of the other patients began to clap. One of the nurses fell down to the floor to sit. One of the secretaries put her phone down. Kavaa stood there as the cheers washed over her like the water of a warm shower after a hard day’s work. It wasn’t unpleasant nor did Kavaa hate it. Bitter and unpleasant she may be, but that was generally only to Divines and that was because she simply knew better. Health spoke for itself and so naturally beings with perfect health would try to get smarmy with her. Could they inspire this level of love and gratitude? Kavaa turned to Etala who was looking around the room smiling. To think that the Goddess of Democracy actually had tears in her eyes at this sight.

“Change of plans.” Kavaa said. “I’ll wait in the car park. Get all the staff out to me. I’ll heal this room but don’t send anyone else here. Okay?”

“Understood Goddess.” Etala said, her voice low and trembling and awed as the two Divines turn to look at the mother crying in pure joy at the child in her arms. What went on in Etala’s mind, Kavaa had no idea. For herself though, she looked at that mother and… And it was a sight she had seen hundreds of thousands times before, millions even. It was the same as when the first man had thanked her. It was the same now. This parental love, this pure joy. Kavaa couldn’t even say that she was staring at it in confusion, she knew exactly what the woman was feeling. She had seen felt the same in the immediate century after her own formation. Maybe two centuries. Maybe three. Definitely not five.

There was a saying that people could get used to anything until it became normal. Kavaa pulled her eyes away and looked at the styrofoam panels in the ceiling. One of them was crooked. She reached up to readjust it. She agreed with that saying, one could get truly used to anything. “Go.” Kavaa stirred Etala into action as she herself began to get to work.

A broken leg. Another case of the flu. Some disease that wasn’t dangerous yet had strong symptoms. Measles. Food poisoning. Hangover. Hangover again. Fracture. Cut. Food poisoning again, someone had undercooked chicken. A throat had been burned by scalding tea. Someone had broken their pinkie finger. Someone had a ringing in their ears. Someone had looked into sun and hurt their eyes. Someone had fallen over, scratched themselves and gotten an infection. Every time Kavaa pulled her hand away, her patient would look up at her in awe or with tears or with joy or with such gratitude that Kavaa knew it was real, and yet every time Kavaa would move on. These people weren’t her friends. If she spent time getting to know one, she was putting others on hold. The gratitude was real, it was honest and earnest and plenty and it would bring a smile to anyone.

But people could get used to anything until it became normal.

Kavaa did her job and then left to wait outside in the car park before more patients walked in.

She didn’t have to wait long for the first of the hospital’s staff to come out. Kavaa just had them wait in line until the few became a dozen, which became a hundred, which grew to several hundred and then even more by the time Etala reappeared. She had used a different exit than the main entrance and was walking happily from the other side of the car park, a small gaggle of people behind her. Kavaa’s eyes fell them and she dismissed half instantly. “How will this look then? You bless them and then you go to heal the rest of the patients or…” Etala trailed off in an open question.

“I will first bless the men that pass my test.” Kavaa said. Arascus had given her a report on the situation, he had given her the bureaucrats and he had said that it was her Clerics and her job on picking them. At the end of day, he was correct. Kavaa had just been curious on how exactly he would pick out Clerics and how it would differ from her method. After all, she did manage to generally pick a similar set of personalities. A glance at the Goddess of Democracy said Etala did not like it. Her frown was there but there was obviously not going to be an argument after Kavaa had just healed a room. “I’ll need to show them how to heal before they start teaching others.” Kavaa was only essential in that she needed to give her blessing. That was it. When it came to dealing with long-established orders, they would know what day she would visit and hold basic training for newcomers in preparation for that moment.

“We have some candidates already.” Etala said, Kavaa looked at the men. Etala pointed to one and a man stepped forward. Kavaa stood there in stunned silence for a few moments as she looked at this early-twenties little runt of a man with stomach that was neither thin nor fat and a beard that was neither stubble nor full. What exactly was Etala doing? Was she actually trying to suggest Clerics? The only person that Kavaa would honestly take the advice of in that regard was Kassandora. Maybe Arascus and that depended entirely on if the man made her laugh beforehand. Who exactly was Etala? Some Divine not even three centuries old? Were they being serious here?

This ginger fellow approached Kavaa and began to introduce himself. “My nam…” Kavaa didn’t bother listening to the man’s name. Honestly, she did not care. She had more than enough names in her mind already. He went on for a while, then brought out a folded piece of paper from his pocket. “My doctorate and my curriculum vitae.” She didn’t even touch the paper, she didn’t even read it. Was this idiot serious? Did he think this was a job interview?

“Your qualifications?” Kavaa looked down at the piece of paper, they had a fancy crest at the top. A signature at the bottom. She didn’t even bother reading the text, instead her eyes passed from it straight to the doctor who smiled awkwardly up at her. Ungroomed. He had a scraggly orange beard. Ungroomed. His hair was slightly too long. Ungroomed. His shirt was tucked in though and it had obviously been ironed. Ungroomed. His smile was infuriatingly naïve and innocent and looking as if the fellow was about to burst out in laughter or tears. Ungroomed. The man shifted under Kavaa’s eyes as Etala stepped to the side to watch the interaction. Ungroomed. The fellow finally spoke.

“I’ve graduated with a doctorate an-“

“How long have you been a doctor?” Kavaa asked and the little man seem to get even littler.

“Two years. Two and a half.” He was going to say more but the Goddess of Health interrupted him.

“How many times has someone died in your arms?” Kavaa asked, it was a trick question. There was an infinite amount of correct answers and only one wrong one.

And this fellow did pick the wrong one. He stopped for a moment and even made it some joke. “Is it wrong to say I’m proud that’s never happened?” He half-asked the question with the same manner a student who wasn’t sure about their answer would reply to a teacher.

“It is wrong.” Kavaa agreed and raised her hand to point back to the line. More of the hospital’s staff began to filter out. The man looked up at her, his dark eyes went wide in surprise at Kavaa’s answer. He looked to Etala.

“Kavaa.” Etala began gently. “Owen here is a good doctor.” Etala finished the sentence, saw

“If I start talking to you about voting systems, are you going to take my advice?” Kavaa asked the Goddess of Democracy. She knew she made a mistake when Etala didn’t look offended or annoyed but just confused by the question.

“If it’s a sensible suggestion then why shouldn’t I?” Etala asked.

“Then that is a difference between us.” Kavaa answered. “You may not be but I am jealous of my demesne. Do not tell me again who I should pick to be a Cleric because it’s not a case of good advice or not. I simply do not want to and will not bother hearing it.” She turned away and looked down at the doctor who had never seen anyone die. What sort of doctor was that? “Get back in line.”

The man did get back in line. The crowd did keep growing. More doctors in white coats, nurses in bright blue, surgeons in darker shades. Some had blood on them. Most were obviously tired. A few were looking as if they were afraid of closing their eyes, Kavaa knew that feeling of seeing faces she had not saved. There was nothing to worry about though, people got used to everything. “How many people are we waiting for?”

“Anver Health has over eight thousand employees, I just checked.” Etala said. Kavaa doubted it, she wondered how many were actual employees and how many were just meandering bureaucrats.

“Then we’ll get started now and let the others filter in.” Kavaa said and raised her tone into a shout. “Ladies and gentlemen.” And immediately everything went silent. The whole crowd started to pay attention. Kavaa could see Etala begin to take mental notes as she looked at how Kavaa worked the crowd.

Kavaa kept her face straight and adopted the same posture Kassandora always did when she spoke to her soldiers. Hands behind her back, feet shoulder width apart. Head slightly tilted back. Kassie was a natural at it, Kavaa hoped she was half as good. “Ladies and Gentlemen, I am Kavaa, the Goddess of Health. I have come here to found a Clerical Order in the UNN.” Smiles appeared on the faces of the workers. One of the cars that had stopped nearby to watch the commotion honked its horn. Kavaa hoped they were happy with that hopeful statement, she was done with such things after one sentence.

“Now what is a Clerical Order?” Kavaa asked rhetorically and immediately answered her own question. “Clerics are not healers, nor are they surgeons nor warriors and especially not heroes.” There, that got the smile out. If there was one thing that doctors truly excelled in, it was destroying the mood and Kavaa considered herself a good doctor. “Not healers because as Clerics, you do not heal. Not surgeons because you will not be doing surgery. Not a warrior because that is too grand a title. A champion of an army is a warrior, that’s a grand honour. Not a hero because that is self-explanatory. Heroes are unique.”

“Now what is a Cleric?” Kavaa asked. “A Cleric is a replaceable grunt in my army. For a thousand years, the Clerics were the largest army in this world, now we are the second largest only behind the Imperial military. I do not build hospitals nor clinics, I build temples. Those are my places of healing and it were you will live for the immediate future. You will not be some hero, you will be the gun that gets brought to a knife fight. And yet you will be a replaceable gun, never forget that.”

“You will be a soldier fighting the greatest war known to man.” Kavaa said and Etala shifted uncomfortably. Most likely she did not like this military connotation, the political situation most likely did not suit it. Kavaa did not care. “The war against death. It is not a war we can win, it is not a war we can even hope to win. It is a war that we can only stall or lose. That will be your entire life from now on, you will be the strongest of humanities’ shieldwalls against death and that is how you will see it because that is how I see it. We are not a charity here, we are some happy organisation, we are not any sort of great movement. We are a set of soldiers. I expect you to act like soldiers.”

Kavaa honestly described the life of a Cleric. At least the negatives of it. The positives of her blessing, everyone already knew. Men who signed up for those benefits were the sort that couldn’t last a day. They were the sorts of doctors who had never had a patient die on them. “The hours will be so long that you will lose track of time. You will start to struggle to sleep. Your voice will not be respected, there is no one to complain to, we have no department for human resources, we have no job benefits, your pay will be minimal.” That wasn’t even false yet Clerics didn’t really need money. Clothes, uniforms, beds, tents, food and drink would be provided.

“I do not want you to join. In fact, I want you to throw in the towel right now. I want to go up to each one of you and beat this stupid idea of becoming a Cleric out of your mind because you are not signing up to become some great crusader against disease. You become just another grunt to slay pathogens and cure hangovers with. All of you will know death for it will be all you know after a certain point, that is why to begin with, I will run my first test.”

“If you do not know death, if you have never seen the light go out of someone’s eyes, you may leave. There is no reason for you to stay in fact, I will not accept you. I am not joking here or making some empty statement, I am simply saving all of us the trouble. Do not bother.” Kavaa saw a few people already give up. Good. They weren’t cut out to be Clerics anyway. “You will not have time to have friends or a family or a partner and I do not allow relationships in my orders.” That was only half-true and it was all dependent on how old and how refined an order was. Some of the Epan Orders could marry but the people here would die of old age before Kavaa would lower the standards in a new Order so much so quickly. “Likewise you may leave if you have a single notion to complain about me. I simply will not deal with it.” A few more.

“You will grow to hate this job, you will grow to regret this moment. You may think I am arrogant or pretentious for I am always right yet that is only in the now. Ten years from now, when you are sitting in some rusty bed, alone, on some ship to make sure that the crew don’t drown or get sea-sick, you will recall this moment and admit at just how right I am. Yet at that point it will be too late. Your dreams will be gone, wiped away by the suffering you see. You will experience such sensations and such emotions for the first year that you will think bathing in fire will cool you down, yet after that you will burn to such ash that it won’t matter outside is the most beautiful or the most dour day, it will all be the same shade on your monotone soul.”

“And you will kill for that is what I make every single one of my Cleric do. When a patient is terminal and when you are too weak to dispense health, you will ending suffering. Now, I say this again, if you feel yourself incapable of taking a life then leave. Death is what we deal with. Very simply, you are not worth that much to me as to make me beg for you. You are not great. You are mortals who are signing up to be human cannon fodder in this endless war on death. When you take my vow, that is what you become once and forever. Human cannon fodder without a shred of glory in them.”

Kavaa saw the vast majority of faces had become horrified at her words. Good. That was the whole point. Her blessing’s benefits spoke for themselves. Any old fool would wish to claim  her gift if she gave up for free. Kavaa finished. “If after hearing what I have just said you still wish to join, then stay here. If you do not, then return to your posts. If you’re uncertain then leave. Playtime is over.”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep