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“What do you mean, unique heartbeat? Everyone knows Witchers are heartless.”
Shani pauses half way into her lecture hall, glancing sidelong at a pair of students sitting at the desks two rows up. They have the textbook she and Regis had published open in front of them, and one, the boy, is looking dubious. It was he who’d made the comment, and Shani raises an eyebrow.
“Heartless, huh?” she asks, prompting both students to scramble to get their feet off the desk. She walks the rest of the way to the middle of the room and sets down her own armful of books, planting her hands on her hips. “What makes you say that?”
“Well...professor I mean….” the boy says, shrugging through the intense blush on his cheeks. “All the literature says they get off on killin, that they won’t lift a finger to help if there isn’t enough coin in it. And they are mutants. Who’s to say they can’t walk around without a heart? Probably why they’re emotionless.”
Shani has to take a moment, looking down at her papers and pressing her lips together. The irony of every single thing her student has just said is so intense it would be funny--if it didn’t reveal such a base problem at its core.
“Jero,” she says evenly after a moment, looking up at the boy. “Come down here please? And bring the textbook.”
He’s still flushed but he complies, glancing once at the girl he’d been talking to. Shani’s suddenly glad she’s early for lecture--it gives her time to handle this.
When Jero stands in front of her, placing the textbook between them, Shani looks for a long moment at the detailed illustration of a cross-sectioned heart, brushing it affectionately. Regis had drawn that, getting every strand and artery perfectly. It was a beautiful drawing.
“Jero, why are you taking my class?” she asks at length, looking up at him.
“I want to be a healer, professor Shani,” he says, and she can hear the sincerity.
“I know, but why my class in particular. I know you fought to get in--you’re my one extra student. I had a full lecture hall.”
He casts his eyes down, clasping his hands behind his back for a moment, looking more embarrassed. “Yes, well, you helped write this textbook. I always thought there was more to a person’s heart than most physicians say and your work proved that. I want to specialize in cardiac medicine. Other people specialize with babies or with medicaments--if curing our hearts is truly what may let us live longer, why can’t I focus there?”
“You want to be a specialist, but don’t want to consider hearts that might be different from your own,” Shani says, sitting down at the desk and gesturing for him to sit as well. “Have you thought about why that might be?”
He looks at her in puzzlement, shrugging a little as he takes the offered seat. “I’m not opposed it’s just--well. They’re Witchers. They keep to themselves mostly, and they’re almost extinct anyway. Aren’t they?”
There’s a pang of sadness and Shani’s brow furrows. For a moment she has to look away and she nods, taking a steadying breath. She knows Jero is a victim in this thinking, but it’s still difficult to see his prejudice and choose to work against it rather than berate him for it. Slowly, she turns the textbook back around so it’s facing him.
“They are almost all gone,” she admits quietly. “And they do keep to themselves--but that’s because almost no existing healers know how to properly help them. They’re still human, Jero. They live, they breathe, they feel pain and sorrow and joy and love and loss. And they die.” She swallows, thinking about what Eskel’s told her of the brothers and the near-father he’s lost. “They die the same way we do--” she places her hand on the diagram, looking at Jero. “When their hearts stop.”
Jero looks dubious, uncomfortable. “But I’ve heard a Witcher can kill ten men in a minute, that one survived being stabbed in the chest for a lot longer than anything natural can. They’re….they’re mutants, professor!”
“Yes,” Shani says, controlling her anger, determined to see this lesson through. “They can survive incredible damage and pain. They can also kill far more efficiently than most other creatures can. They’re mutants because as children other people chose to make them that way. They grew up without choice, and now are punished simply for surviving when most others didn’t. The propaganda doesn’t tell you this, Jero, but every single Witcher that’s ever lived carries the burden of remembering the deaths of the boys who didn’t make it. Try to imagine the kind of suffering that would cause.”
Jero pauses, swallowing, looking uncomfortable. “How do you know?” he asks at last. “Witchers don’t talk about stuff like that. It’s all a big secret.”
“Everyone tells secrets when they become close to someone,” Shani says, lacing her hands on the table in front of her. “And I’m close friends with a few Witchers.”
That seems to really startle Jero, and Shani tries not to smile too much at his shocked expression. “You’ve met a real Witcher?”
Shani shakes her head, unable to stop the smile that time. “You might say that.” She raises an eyebrow, crossing her arms and leaning on them as she studies Jero’s face. Like so many, he is simply echoing back the lies spread about Witchers, and yet unable to stop being curious about them. She’d never realized how bad the attitude really was until she’d started romantically with Eskel.
“Jero,” she began, really willing him to listen. “You admire me because I discovered all these new things about the human heart, correct?”
He nods, a different kind of flush coming over his skin.
“Well, how would you feel if I told you that most of those discoveries were made because of a Witcher?”
Jero’s eyes really get wide then, and he’s leaning into the table. “You dissected a witcher?” he asks, his voice awed.
Shani shakes her head, another small smile quirking. “Oh no, he’s still very much alive. At least, he was when I kissed him goodbye this morning.”
All of the color drains from Jero’s face and he swallows once, then twice. “Oh--professor Shani I--”
She shakes her head, waving a hand. “I’m not mad, Jero. Just...think before you say things? Most of what goes around about partial or non-humans isn’t true, and it’s harmful to you as a doctor to think that they are. You have to have an open, fair mind about all your patients, Witcher or otherwise and--” she pauses, looking up because someone has come into the lecture hall.
Eskel grimaces, waving at her and shutting the door quietly. “Sorry--” he apologizes, gesturing for her to continue. “Didn’t mean to interrupt but you forgot your cloak and it’s smelling like rain so I thought you’d want it later.” He holds up the garment, coming down the steps to the desk. Shani smiles and shakes her head, standing to take the cloak and pull him in for a quick kiss.
“No, don’t worry about it,” she says, setting the cloak on the chair and glancing at Jero. The boy is full-on staring, frozen in his seat. “Actually, Eskel, if you’re not in a hurry I could use you for a minute.”
Eskel looks at her curiously, then follows her gaze to the stricken student. He crosses his arms and shrugs. “Yeah, I’m not busy.”
“Jero,” Shani says gently, touching the boy’s shoulder. He jumps, finally tearing his eyes away from staring at Eskel’s. He looks torn between horrible embarrassment and actual fear, and the reaction pains Shani more than anything. “This is Eskel.”
Clumsy, Jero gets out of his seat and offers a hand. Eskel takes it, through the trembling concerns him. “Nice to meet you.”
“Sir I--” Jero cuts himself off, dropping his gaze and then his hand. Eskel shoots Shani a questioning expression and Shani sighs, taking pity on Jero. She rests a hand on Eskel’s back, rubbing it across his warm shoulders.
“Jero didn’t realize that I used you to discover most of the material we’re learning this semester,” she explains. “All he’d read about Witchers before was….misinformed.”
Eskel hums his understanding, nodding once. “I see. Well, if he wants to know anything from the source, all he has to do is ask.” He talks like he’s directing it at Shani, but he’s still looking at Jero. Jero’s head jerks up in surprise, looking at Eskel like he can’t believe what he’s hearing.
“You--” he swallows, shifting his weight and crossing his arms self-consciously. “You’re not angry with me, sir?”
“Do you still think I’m a subhuman waste of resources?” Eskel asks bluntly, and Jero looks even more shocked for a moment.
“No! No I don’t, I didn’t mean...”
Eskel raises a hand, his expression calm. “Then no. I’m not angry. Not your fault you’ve been fed lies most of your life. Important thing is you’re willing to learn otherwise. It’s the people who refuse that scare me.”
Shani squeezes Eskel’s arm in a silent thanks, feeling her heart swell with pride for him. Him and Jero. Jero is now looking again at the textbook, then up at Eskel, his fear dissolving away into visible awe.
“Professor Shani said she used your heart to understand most of what’s in here,” he says. “I never imagined we could learn so much from a live subject. I thought for certain she’d had to have studied a dead witcher,” he admits.
“Well,” Eskel says, coming around to look at the textbook himself. Jero tracks his every move, partly skittish and partly like he still can’t quite believe a living, breathing Witcher is sharing discussion space with him. “She listened, mostly. Felt, counted. We had some help from the surgeon who did the illustrations. And the sketches are of a dead heart of course.”
“Of course,” Jero says, his voice soft. He’s stopped paying attention to the textbook, his eyes fixed on Eskel. Shani knows that expression, had it herself long ago when she’d first realized that being a medic was more than an interest or a calling. It was that moment of realizing that another person was alive in the same way you were, with thoughts and hopes and a soul, and that they had to rely on everything you’d been learning in order for that to stay a reality.
“Jero wants to specialize in heart medicine,” Shani says, and Eskel looks up to listen to her. “Would you be willing to let him hear yours?”
Jero’s trance breaks at that and he straightens up, hands nervously going to clasp on one another. Eskel shrugs, turning to look at Jero. “If he wants to, sure.”
“You’d let me do that?” he asks, almost sounding breathless. “Truly?”
“I would,” Eskel says, nodding once, gesturing at his chest. “Doesn’t hurt me to have you listen for a moment.”
Shani thinks she understands the wave of emotions that crosses Jero’s face. There’s some lingering shame, but mostly excitement. She’d known since she allowed Jero into the class that he was somewhat starstruck by her because of her work, so finding out Eskel was a significant source of that work seems to have transferred a great deal of the awe to him.
“I’ve never listened to a Witcher’s heart before…” Jero says, the admission quiet. “Is it true they beat different?”
“Slower, mostly,” Eskel says, nodding.
“Much slower,” Shani says, taking Eskel’s hand and turning it over, finding the pulse point at his wrist. She waits until she’s found it and then gestures to Jero. “Here, start with his pulse.”
Eskel keeps his arm up, patient as Jero rests uncertain fingers just under his thumb. “I don’t think--oh,” Jero breathes, surprise all over his face as he stares at Eskel’s wrist. He’s dead silent for the next four solid seconds as he waits for the next pulse. “You shouldn’t be conscious,” he whispers, looking up at Eskel’s face. Eskel just blinks calmly at him, his cat’s eyes very much alert.
“His heart will beat only once for every four of yours. Or maybe every ten of yours, if you don’t remind yourself to breathe a little,” she teases gently. “I know we don’t have practical exam reviews until next week so I imagine you don’t have your stethoscope?” she asks. Jero shakes his head, letting Eskel have his arm back.
“No, sorry professor. Didn’t think I’d need it and it was expensive.”
“I know, I’m sorry. I’m working on that,” Shani apologizes, instead pulling her stethoscope out of the desk. She has Eskel sit down and hands the tool over to Jero, who handles it like it’s made of glass. Shani can’t help an affectionate smile. She’d invented the stethoscope too, so she can imagine what this must be doing to Jero. She finds it endearing.
“Jero, remember to breathe. It’s just a stethoscope and he’s just a patient,” she chides. “Do you remember what I taught you about the valves?”
He nods, fitting the earpieces and kneeling at Eskel’s side.
“Good,” she says, nodding encouragingly. “Eskel’s are slightly different because his heart is larger than most humans, so just adjust the bell until you hear clearly.”
Jero nods again, then, visibly holding his breath, he settles the bell against Eskel’s chest. Shani watches the intense concentration crack into shock that then melts into a raw fascination. His gaze is cast to the side, all his focus on listening. He listens for a long, long while, his hand eventually resting partly on Eskel’s chest like he’s forgotten his fears. He looks up at Shani after a while, shaking his head.
“It’s...wow. That’s incredible the...the power of it I’ve never heard anything like that before.”
Shani nods, an affectionate hand tracing circles in Eskel’s shoulder. “That’s why Witchers have a lifespan of several hundred years,” she says, resting her hand at last on his far shoulder so she can lean her hip against his chair. She’s immensely proud of him, sitting still and being patient while Jero checks him over.
“Several hundred!?” Jero yelps, pulling one ear-piece out like he thinks he’s heard her wrong. “Really?”
“Really,” Eskel answers for her.
He looks at Eskel, shaking his head. “That’s….wow. Do you know exactly how long?”
“No...none of us have died of old age yet.”
Jero’s face falls at his answer, sympathy coming into his eyes. “I’m sorry. Do--do you mind if I listen a little longer?”
Eskel shakes his head. “I don’t mind.”
Eager, Jero explores the rest of Eskel’s heart, moving from each valve to the next with some trial and error before he finds them. When he is finished, Shani kisses Eskel’s cheek and rests a hand on his chest, nodding to the desk to indicate Jero can put the stethoscope back. Jero does, but he’s watching Shani and Eskel interact and he nods to her hand on his chest.
“Can you feel it, like that?”
Shani nods, Eskel’s chest rising and falling in a warm tide beneath her palm. “Witcher hearts are the strongest I’ve ever seen, and most of the time I can feel Eskel’s without too much trouble. Sometimes it’s loud enough you can hear it through his armor.”
“I don’t doubt that you could,” Jero says seriously. “It was loud enough just now with him relaxed.” He shifts his focus on Eskel, inclining his head slightly in a respectful nod. “Thank you for letting me listen, despite my…”
“You’re welcome,” Eskel cuts him off, his voice gentle. “You don’t have to apologize again. All any of us can do is keep learning.” He stands then as more students trickle in, turning to Shani and sneaking her another chaste kiss. “I should go--leave you to your class.”
Shani returns the kiss but catches his hand. “We do have hands on exams next week,” she says, her eyes twinkling the way they do when she wants something. He snorts softly and smiles at her.
“Just tell me what time. I’ll be here.”