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The birds were singing, the water in the rivers flowing, blood and vile no longer mixing with it, and the twyre dancing in the wind. Life in the town next to Gorkhon was picking up again. Daniil Dankovsky was lying in bed inside his room, it might as well be his now, buried beneath blankets and sheets, head spinning from yesterday's indulgence in twyrine.
The Stillwater was quiet. Eerily quiet. Clean, tidied up now. Everything where it should be. Well, almost everything. A void-like absence, a hole, shaped after its now former owner, was still there. Would always be there, to be felt by anyone who had had the honor of meeting the beautiful, vibrant Eva Yan. The vibrant woman Daniil had failed. At this point he had failed so many people it didn’t truly sting as much as it should have…
One would think he’d have learned, and nonetheless, he kept failing people. He had spent the last week drinking and smoking, and drinking and smoking, and to break the monotony, provoking Andrey into a fistfight and then drinking some more.
He had been visited by one of the children too. Catnip was her name he thinks. She brought him nuts and needles. He was so tired that questioning her had felt impossible and so he’d just put them in the pockets of his coat. He imagines they are still there. He’ll have to check.
Artemy Burakh. The town’s hero, funny how that turned out, had been bugging him every day. The man wouldn’t let it go. Every noon he brought him lunch. Home-cooked lunch. The fucker. Every time chipper and insistent on him coming over that evening for dinner. He was seeing a mess and like the big-hearted idiot that he was he was trying to fix it.
But the act wasn’t working on him. Daniil wasn’t entirely convinced Burakh was doing it out of the goodness of his heart, yet he couldn’t for the life of him master up another good explanation. Ever since their conversation at the Steppe, the man was impossible to read. Daniil was still not quite sure why Artemy suggested he stayed, nor why he, himself had listened. Well, he always had the option to go back to the capital, hanging around a bit more would not change that.
A faint knock could be heard from the downstairs door. Goddammit. It only grew louder the longer it was ignored and at the rate at which this was going the whole house would be brought down before long. Daniil got up slowly, a sigh leaving his lips. He made his not-so-graceful way downstairs and opened the door, only to be met with the face of Artemy Burakh. His day could not get worse and it had just begun.
“Morning Burakh, trying to tear the house down?” the man looked disheveled and slightly out of breath. At least his figure had become fuller a healthy colour added to his cheeks. He looked better. Healthier.
“Morning? My, my oynon it's close to 1 o clock, did you just get off the bed?” Oh, turns out it could. Much worse. Burakh’s voice scraped against his ear. As if he wasn’t already irritable.
“What does it matter to you?” Annoying as always. Daniil could feel his migraine getting worse. Although that was probably the midday sun shining through the door. It bathed everything with such an obnoxious intensity. “What do you want Burakh?”
That sounded harsh. He hadn't meant for that, but Burakh seemed unaffected.
“I brought lunch. It’s lentils, not much but...” Burakh trailed off holding a bundled up box to Daniil’s hands expecting.
“Thank you.” An all too alien half-smile seemed to cross Burakhs face at that. It was such an ugly thing on him. Daniil expected the man to leave at that but still, he stood at his door, unmoving like a log. “Anything else?” he asked.
“Well” the man began “I need your help,” That seemed to physically hurt him, saying those words, yet he continued. “Remember the conversation we had in the steppe the day after the...”
Daniil cut in. He needed no reminders of the last day of the plague and its events. “As much as I’d rather not yes… still need me, Artemy?” he could not help but tease the man. It was only half malicious. He just loved the way he slightly twitched.
“Umm, we all do.” always to the point, that man. “I mean me and Rubin are setting up the clinic in the Earth district and you would be of great help.”
Great help? Him? Yeah, he doubted that. Hadn’t he helped the town enough? He wanted to ask. Alas, that wasn’t fair, “With what exactly?” so he settled for that.
“There’s inventory to be done, lists of things we’ll need, someone to appeal to the families...” Burakh seemed to have already given it some thought, much to Daniil’s dismay.
He wanted to yell no, to close the door on the other’s face, but that was a childish reaction. What better things did he honestly have to do today? He could help with some things, just a couple though. He wouldn’t be here for long either way. “It seems you are rather in need...” the innuendo didn’t seem to escape Burakh. Good. “of some assistance. I will pass by in the evening”
“Thank you, Bachelor” his tone far too serious. “Come whenever you can, you won’t miss it, it's the building with beds by the door.” He smiled and still stood there. A few moments passed and Daniil was done with this.
“Goodbye, Burakh” he closed the door.
The evening came faster than it had any right to. Daniil made his way to the Earth district. Curse him. What was he thinking agreeing to this charade? Burakh and Rubin were capable enough to get the clinic up and running on their own. He wasn’t needed.
And still, he went. Finding the building proved to be more difficult than Burakh had said and Daniil had expected, as most things had been in this damn town. He eventually managed to spot it. The area was a quiet one, slightly away from the rest of the building and closer to the river. It didn’t seem like much of a clinic. A lot more run down than one out to be certainly. This wouldn’t do.
Rubin and Burakh were lying on the floor busy with a strange-looking machine, tools scattered all over. They didn’t notice him immediately, continuing to work on the broken machine. They seemed to work well together. Only natural, they had known each other so long. Daniil sighed, what was he doing here?
At that Burakh seemed to notice him. “Dankovsky! You made it” He sat up. “Here sit” he pointed to a chair a couple of meters away from him. Rubin nodded his hello, looking at him curiously. He noted back and sat. The chair was as uncomfortable as it looked. Almost as uncomfortable as the current atmosphere suffocating the room.
A beat or two passed. Daniil wanted to crawl out of his skin. That damned shirt was making him itch all over and the usually comforting pressure his ascot provided was now a choking sensation overtaking him.
“We’ve finished inventory” Burakh finally broke the silence. Thank God.
“And we don’t have nearly as much as we need” Rubin added. What a surprise.
“It is still more than nothing” Always the optimist, Burakh. It was one of his worst traits.
“Yes, but flu season is approaching, and after recent events...”Rubin said it indifferently but Danill could still sense a bit of dread mixed into his tone. “...people are sure to panic and we are far too unequipped for that”
He had not thought of that. From what he had come to understand of the townsfolk a flu outbreak right now would cause them to spiral. It was the last thing they needed. Yet October was approaching and it was only natural that people would get sick. He dreaded to think what that would be like.
“Well yes but-” Artemy started but Daniil cut him off.
“He is right. We need to prepare and stock up. May I see?” he gestured to the inventory list beside Artemy.
Oh, it was worse than he thought. They barely had anything “Hmm, yes this is bad. We’ll need much more. As for the equipment?”
“The machines need fixing up and the equipment a thorough cleaning” Rubin answered “We’ve been trying to fix them, the progress is there but not quite complete”
Daniil nodded. This could have been worse. They at least had some basic painkillers and bandages. Needles and thread seemed easy enough to find in the town. They’d have to do for now. Antibiotics were scarce though. That’d be a problem.
He looked up from the papers in his hand to Burakh. The man looked strangely attractive. Sweaty and on the floor, the dim light of dusk coming from the windows gave him a nice earthly glow. His hair had grown slightly and was clinging to his forehead. It framed his face beautifully.
God, what was he thinking? The stuffiness of the room must be getting to him.
“Alright, Dankovsky make a list of what you think we’ll need from most urgent to least. You’re the best suited for that out of us” Rubin said “I’ll continue working on the machine. Artyom get on the tools.”
They worked alongside each other in blessed silence until night fell. Rubin had done good work on what Daniil came to know was the alembic and moved into fine-tuning the two microscopes. Burakh on the other hand had finished with the tools and moved beside him looking over his shoulder at the list. It was rather extensive. They needed a lot of things to even begin to function properly. He did not look forward to the conversions with the families.
“I believe this is enough for tonight. It’s getting late, time to go home” Artemy said “You can both come for dinner at mine, it’s pretty close.”
“I have plans with Lara, another night,” Rubin said as he put on his coat “Goodnight” he nodded at both of them and left.
Lara. He hadn’t seen the woman since that day. He wasn’t sure he could face her, look her in the eye. She must hate him. Not that he’d blame her. Making that mess of her house. He’d do it again but he regretted that it had to be in her home.
“Oynon, are you coming?” Burakh ended his train of thought. He was standing by the door waiting for him. Daniil collected his stuff, pocketed the list, and approached the door.
The cold air was as soothing as he had hoped. He took a couple of deep breaths. The town was quiet, everyone home by now. It was sort of enchanting at night, the stars visible in the sky. You could never see them in the capital. Too many lights. It was certainly nice to see them now without fearing that a bandit might be behind the corner.
He turned to Burakh. The man was staring at him with a look he couldn’t quite place.
“I’m sorry”
Damn that man. Daniil would love to despise him.
“Sorry? For what Burakh? Yes, the clinic is in terrible shape but it’s not your fault”
“Don’t play coy, Bachelor, it doesn’t suit you. I truly am sorry. Not for what I did, I’d do it again” Daniil chuckled at that “But for how things happened, I never meant for all that”
“Oh, dear Haruspex. Don’t be. The fault lies not with you but with me. I tried to change fate. To stall it, at the very least. In the end, I failed like every other fool that tries. Acta deos nunquam mortalia fallunt. It was hopeless from the very start”
Burakh looked him in the eyes “Nothing is hopeless” he touched Daniil’s shoulder “Come to dinner”
He wished Burakh would just disappear. “Alright,” he said defeated once again.