Chapter Text
Phainon.
Diagnosis : Schizophrenia, Bipolar Disorder.
The subject presents himself as a “hero” at times, thinking he has done many deeds in legends, and he presents himself to be helpful to the community. When he’s not, his mood swings into depressive and manic states, in which such manic states can be shown through heroic acts or violence. Once in a depressive state, the subject is shown to be mourning people that is unknown within his records, muttering names and promises.
The subject is allowed to engage within the community under the watch of psychiatrists. Once entering a manic state, the subject must be detained to avoid further incidents.
“You must be the new doctor.” The head nurse opened the door, welcoming the doctor in front of her. “Such an honour to have new staff here, after a long time we have not seen a new face.”
“Glad I can be of some help,” The doctor took of his hat and bow. “I just finished my doctoral thesis, no need to call me doctor. I am here to gain my practical license, Miss…”
“Aglaea.”
“Well, nice to meet you, Ms. Aglaea. Just call me Anaxagoras, it would be fine.”
“Anaxagoras? That’s too long. How about Anaxa?”
The doctor scoffed as he hung his coat. “It’s Anaxagoras.”
The head nurse, in turn, just smiled. “Well, doctor, I assume you’d like to meet our community? Follow me.” Aglaea tapped her cane and walked toward the atrium. “Don’t mind me, I can see a little. This just helps me around.”
Anaxa didn’t comment on it, and followed the head nurse for a little tour around in the asylum. He’s new here, after all, and still yet not know what kind of revolutionary method is in play within these brick walls. He’s here to study, and that’s all to it. Aglaea introduced him to the treatment building, with its cold showers, electroconvulsion room, spinning chair that is more akin to torture devices, and operation room when a lobotomy is needed. The community room is more welcoming, where there is a piano, chess, books, and people of all ages interacting with it. Such duality of methods puzzled the doctor’s mind, but that’s not his priority for now; he just arrived at this place, and it is not to judge this establishment.
“Aglaea. It seems our new sapling has arrived.” A man with a marble mask approached them in the community room. He seems dignified and composed, with his hands crossed. “Welcome, Dr. Anaxagoras. I hope you can learn a lot more from us. I’m Dr Lycurgus, or Lygus. Director of this asylum.”
“I see. Nice to meet you, Dr. Lygus.” They shook hands. “What a fine establishment.”
“I’m flattered. We’re not afraid of trying new methods, you see. That’s the beauty of this place.” He laughed, echoing through the room. “Any asylum that reject its patients shall receive their solace here.”
“Is that so? Well, I’m interested.”
“I’m more interested in your missing eye, Dr. Anaxagoras.” Lygus pointed at Anaxagoras’ eyepatch, which covers his left eye.
“Nothing but a schmisse.” Anaxa calmly touched his eyepatch. “But a scar in the eye is hideous, don’t you think?”
“We take hold of many hideous things of humanity in this place, doctor. No need to be ashamed of.”
“No, thank you. I’ll keep it.” Anaxa calmly put his hand back into his pocket. A boy then bumped into him, running towards the fireplace.
A white haired youth sitting on the armchair narrated grand stories to the elderly and the young ones around the fireplace. He looks sane; anyone can say that. “I came long from Aedes Elysiae, and it has been consumed by the dark tide…” But the story he told doesn’t make any sense; it is not a typical tale, nor is it any historical recounting. He told them as if it happened to him, he told them as if he lived within a fictional world known to none.
This piques Anaxa’s interest. “Who is he?”
“Phainon,” Aglaea replied. “He’s one of the longest patients of us here. No one knows where he came from. None of us knows the places he mentioned. Dr Lygus brought him here, correct?”
“Well, yes, he’s interesting, I have to take him in,” Lygus nodded and rested his chin on his hand. “Schizophrenia- originally dementia praecox- is a rare case and, due to its recent renaming, gained interest from many psychiatrists. Are you interested in him, Anaxagoras?”
“One can call him creative, good sir,” Anaxa’s gaze still locked onto the young man. “But even the bard can’t live within their own stories.”
“And yet, it’s more interesting to just sit here and watch him, don’t you think?” Lygus added. “Let him write and sing as he pleases, for it is not real, for his spark is fictitious.” Once again, Lygus takes a glance at Anaxa, who seems to be mesmerised by the youth’s case. “Do you want to take his case, doctor?”
Anaxa was startled at the call. “Yes. Sure. Can you give me the file?”
“You start working here next morning, doc.” Lygus patted Anaxa’s shoulder before he left. “Aglaea, please provide him with Phainon’s file by tomorrow morning.”
“Yes, sir.”
That morning, Anaxa had already found Phainon’s file on his desk. He did a quick read before hitting the dinner table for breakfast with everyone. The doctor’s face shows no confusion; instead, he looks satisfied.
At the dinner table, Anaxa’s eye scanned through the table, searching for that white haired youth. His red-teal eye caught upon the youth sitting near the window. The morning sun hits his face like a warm ray of light, highlighting his face and hair, shimmering amongst the rest.
“Good morning,” Anaxa took a seat next to the youth. “I believe we haven’t introduced ourselves properly.”
“Oh! You’re that mint-haired doctor!” Phainon’s face glows with excitement. “Anaxa, right? Aglaea told me.”
“That woman…” Anaxa sighed, fingers pinching his forehead.
“So, you’re my new doc?”
“Yes, you’re under my care as of now,” the doctor averted his gaze from Phainon to his food on the table. “Say grace, Phainon. Thank you for the food.”
The humble breakfast is actually quite filling for Anaxa; thus, he gave the rest of his food to Phainon. Of course, Phainon gladly agrees to finish the meal. Anaxagoras can’t help but think his patient acts exactly like a dog… a friendly one, of course. “I’m leaving early for breakfast. Can you meet me in the common room after you finish your meal? I just have to research deeper on your ailment. After that, we can proceed.”
“Ok, doc!” Phainon nodded quickly, then went back to his meal.
Anaxa’s eyes shuffled quickly through the library collection. To his surprise, a lot of these books are old. A bit odd for an experimental institution, he thinks. Then what is backing up the claims of these treatments? Are these therapy just a caveat for torture? Thinking about it already makes him nauseous. Science may break boundaries, but to cure the soul, this is not the way. His body collapsed for a second while reaching for the shelf.
“Be careful, good sir.” A white haired lady holds Anaxa’s falling body by his chest.
“You are…?”
“I’m Celenova. Librarian here.” She answered coldly. She sat Anaxa to the nearest chair, then offered him a cup of tea. “What bothers you?”
“Nothing, just… I haven’t found any books on schizophrenia here, despite Dr Lygus’ fascination towards it.”
“That would be in his private collection,” Celenova avoided Anaxa’s gaze. “I suggest not to enter his office without permission, Dr. Anaxa, you’re new here, you’re in no way eligible to get in.”
“Have you ever entered his office?”
“Not for a good reason.”
“Is it related to Phainon?”
Celenova refused to answer, her mouth was sewn shut and she hasn’t made any eye contact with Anaxa. The doctor knows something is off. Not just his patient. It’s Lygus himself.
Phainon has been waiting for quite a while inside the common room. It’s not like he’s bored or anything, the view of the asylum's garden is already quite entertaining for him. It’s spring, after all. The sound of footsteps can be heard in the common room, one that resembles the sound of men’s shoes. It’s the doctor, Phainon thought.
“Good afternoon, Phainon.”
No. That’s not Dr Anaxa. It’s him.
“I’m waiting for Dr Anaxa’s presence, sir.”
“He took quite a long time for your first examination. Preliminary knowledge is important, but experiencing first hand is much more exciting, don’t you think so, Phainon?”
Phainon fell silent. He didn’t know how to respond to the man in front of him. As if his body instinctively frozen upon his presence. The body always remembers what it experienced, what has been done, everything. That includes the memories, the visions.
“Don’t be so nervous, Deliverer.”
“Mydei?”
He always mistook that man for Mydeimos during his delirium state, not that he complained about it. Anything to get Phainon closer to him. Anything to transform Phainon to his will. Phainon cried, kneeling in front of him, on the floor. The man knelt and brushed Phainon’s cheek.
“I hope Dr Anaxa won’t interfere with you. I don’t even know him to be the new intern, but you seem to be fond of him.” He chuckled. “Though it never hurt to gain a new ally to help me turning you into a flourishing subject.” Phainon wasn’t listening, his cries buried the sound, his delirium, his vision has consumed him. “Oh well, you can’t hear me? A shame.”
The man stood up, leaving Phainon on the floor, crying, staining the wooden floor with his tears. As he walks away, he said: “Get up and make yourself presentable to our guest, Khaslana.”