Caladrius

393 AC - I try to keep my composure as the carrier's door opens. Paramedics lift stretchers and carry them to the crowded deck, while the Ouroboros medics rush over to meet them. There are many wounded patients after the accident. I watch them perform their triage, sorting the patients according to the severity of their injuries. Those with just a few bruises go over here; those in a state of shock go over there. And then… then there are those who need urgent treatment, and those with a very slim chance of pulling through. Those patients are taken to a separate area and placed under the watchful eye of the Caladrius, which flies from one bed to the next. One look is all it needs. If it looks away, there's nothing more that can be done.

But if it continues to stare at the patient, doctors will treat the victim. It sickens me to think we've come to this, but even so… even so, I know this is what needs to be done. I lean over a miner whose breathing is growing increasingly raspy. The bird had come to his bed, but didn't stay. It had given its verdict, its sentence. I don't know his name. I don't know if he has family on board. All I know is that I wouldn't want to be alone if I were in his shoes. So I take his hand, and I stay by his side, while Taru comforts him by sending him kind thoughts. A tear runs down my cheek as the miner breathes his last breath.

The Caladrius is a bird with snow-white feathers from medieval European mythology. With a single look, it was said to be able to cure a sickness or confirm the sick person's demise. If it looks into your face for a while, you will live; if it looks away, you will die.

AKESHA