The Arrival of the White Warrior
The news that Lapisha’s temporary clinic had opened spread through the North in the blink of an eye. While it was partly because the locals were bored and starved for gossip, the fact that the inn where Lapisha was staying was managed by the Lord’s Castle meant the news traveled rapidly through the efficient, tightly-knit network of administrative officials.
Naturally, Aiden could not just sit idly by.
"I should send a flower wreath, but it seems difficult to procure fresh flowers."
"A flower wreath, sir?"
"Usually, when there’s a joyous or somber occasion, you send a wreath with the local administrator’s name on it. It’s nothing special, but it’s a kind of symbol. It’s proof that I’ve been working hard at my social life, so to speak."
"?"
"Well, these days, people sometimes do rice wreaths instead of flower ones. Let’s see—."
Aiden began sketching on a blank sheet of paper. He figured that even if he couldn't get fresh flowers, he could shape dyed fabric into flower patterns and send sacks of flour instead of rice; it would serve the purpose of a congratulatory wreath well enough.
"Make the flower shape on top with red fabric, and let two long tails hang down."
"Then the message goes on those two tails, I presume."
"Exactly. A congratulatory message like 'Congratulations on the Opening' should suffice."
"Is it correct to send ten sacks of flour?"
"Yes."
Ten sacks of flour. If this were a gift given face-to-face, it would honestly be quite pathetic. For ordinary commoners, ten sacks of flour would be a gift that made their eyes pop out, but for a celebrity like Lapisha, would this even be considered a proper gift?
'But if it’s a wreath, it’s a different story.'
There’s a reason why businessmen and politicians send those wreaths whenever something happens. It’s surprisingly economical and perfect for making a show of one’s consideration. For less than a hundred thousand won, it’s a device that clearly demonstrates, 'I am paying this much attention to you.'
And Aiden’s calculation was spot on.
"Alright, alright—. Those who wish to be seen, please line up this way."
"If you are an urgent patient, come this way!"
Thanks to the inn’s consideration, Lapisha’s temporary clinic was provided with a staff break room that had its own separate entrance. It was larger than a standard guest room, and having a separate entrance had the advantage of keeping inn guests and patients apart.
The number of visitors was not as high as expected, but because many residents had come to gawk at the newly opened clinic, Lapisha’s disciples were in a state of total chaos.
"Delivery is here, nya! Where should I put this, nya?"
A Beastkin delivery person, who had been tasked with moving the flour-sack wreath from the Lord’s Castle, snatched the delivery, saying they wanted to see the clinic too. The Beastkin, who was sniffing around the clinic with elongated cat pupils and holding their nose while saying, "It smells weird, nya!", asked the disciple with a bewildered expression.
"...What is this?"
"It’s from the Lord’s Castle, nya!"
The wreath the Beastkin woman had set down from her rat-sled, and the ten sacks of flour placed beneath it.
'What is this?'
'I don’t know.'
'Is this a Northern custom?'
'That can’t be, the patients look like they’ve never seen it either.'
Lapisha’s disciples exchanged glances, then suddenly noticed the text on the decoration and were shocked.
"It says something here?"
"Northern Chief Administrative Officer, Aiden Blackwood?"
"That’s the Deputy Lord!"
"Gasp!"
Unlike the Northern residents who thought of Aiden as little more than a village chief, to Lapisha’s disciples, a 'Deputy Lord' was equivalent to the king of the territory.
'We thought he had no interest in us.'
They had assumed he was ignoring Lapisha’s background since he hadn't shown his face even once, but it seemed that wasn't the case.
"Wow, did the Lord really send this?"
"Does that mean that?"
"I guess so."
"Oh my—. The healer here must be a truly incredible person. Our Lord even sent something like this himself."
Even the residents who had come to watch were wide-eyed and making a fuss, which made the disciples puff out their chests with pride.
"Could you please place it in front of the clinic?"
"Should I display the flour sacks sent along with it too, nya?"
"That is..."
What should they do with these flour sacks? As the disciple agonized over the decision,
"It is a grateful thing."
The clinic door opened, and Lapisha appeared. Dressed in a white robe, Lapisha stared blankly at the wreath Aiden had sent and offered a faint smile. The disciples noticed that their master’s bronze cheeks were flushed red. Because they could feel how happy their master, who rarely showed changes in expression, was, the disciples felt a slight sense of doubt.
'She doesn't even get this happy over the gold sent by powerful figures, so why?'
'Is this something to be this happy about over a few sacks of flour?'
Just as question marks were floating in the disciples' heads, Lapisha’s mouth slowly opened.
"I have never seen such a thing. Everywhere I go, there are only Lords sending flashy invitations asking for treatment, yet this one does not even take a single step himself, leaves me to treat patients as I wish, and even when I set up a clinic, he only sends congratulations without placing any burden upon me. This is truly the mark of a righteous master of the land."
It was a case of interpreting a dream to suit one's wishes, but since it was interpreted as a good omen, it wasn't a bad thing for Aiden.
"This flour, too, was surely not sent for me to eat alone. I believe that joy lasts longer when shared, so this flour is surely the Administrative Officer’s consideration to share with those who visit the clinic. Therefore, disciples, move this flour to the storage, and when patients come who are in urgent need of treatment but are worried because they cannot afford the fees, deduct the cost from this flour."
Since the original meaning of a rice wreath is to add the role of donation, Lapisha’s interpretation had pierced the essence of it. However, the reaction of the listeners was distinctly different from the modern era.
"Is that what it means?"
"Oh, our Lord!"
"Long live the Lord! Long live the healer!"
Some people suddenly raised both arms and prostrated themselves on the dirt floor to pray for the two, while others were so moved that they shed tears and snot, sniffling repeatedly. Their threshold for being moved seemed a bit low, but it was a reaction that could be expected in an era vulnerable to dopamine.
***
A few days later.
"......?"
"Just sign here, nya! I need confirmation that the delivery is complete, nya!"
"W-wait, all of this-?"
Lapisha’s disciple couldn't finish their sentence. The official mail carriage that came once every few days had stopped in front of the inn, and a line of various wreaths was being delivered.
"Are these all wreaths...?"
The height, shape, and color were all different, but they had one thing in common. Each had two tails displaying a congratulatory message and the sender, and each had sent a kind of donation item along with it.
A few sheepskins sent in the name of a village council. A bundle of paper and a box of candles sent by a social club of officials. Several merchant guilds that frequently traded with the North sent sacks of flour, glass bottles, and clean cotton and fabric, and some residents even sent a jar of liquor, half a sack of flour, or a dozen eggs under their own names.
If you looked at them one by one, they were nothing special, but the disciples who were organizing the wreaths and goods felt a lump form deep in their chests without realizing it.
Isn't it much harder for someone who is barely getting by to share a spoonful of rice with someone who is even worse off?
"I do not know if the Lord is peculiar, so the residents became peculiar, or if the residents are peculiar, so the Lord became peculiar."
Lapisha had to admit that they were growing increasingly fond of their impulsive decision to head North. However, there was one thing that weighed on their mind.
"The donations have increased like this, yet the patients seem to be decreasing."
At Lapisha’s words, the disciples scratched the backs of their heads or avoided their master’s gaze, looking a bit embarrassed. It was true, as their master said; the number of patients visiting the clinic was decreasing exponentially.
It was the moment confirming that the people who had flocked on the first day had only come out of simple curiosity.
"Could it be that you are charging excessive fees compared to the financial situation of the Northern residents?"
"That is not the case, Lapisha—no, Japa. We are charging only the minimum expenses on top of the cost of herbs, so while I cannot say it is cheap, it should not be to the point where they cannot receive treatment due to money."
"Yet, is it not a fact that there are significantly fewer patients compared to other regions?"
"Could it be because the population is small?"
One disciple offered a somewhat reasonable deduction.
"Even if you go to a small village in the mountains, there are usually several patients suffering from serious illnesses."
However, Lapisha, who had spent decades leading disciples and wandering around without a particular hometown, was not about to nod at that.
"Could it be that they are born with strong constitutions?"
"Hmm?"
At that moment, the youngest disciple, who had become particularly close to the Northerners, offered an opinion.
"I met the Northern natives, and most of them had better bone structures and muscle development than most warriors. I also heard that since the new Deputy Lord took office, life has become better, and there is no more starving. Since the nutritional status of those who were already physically fit has improved, wouldn't the number of patients naturally decrease?"
"Does illness ever get solved so simply? No matter how strong a constitution one is born with, one cannot recover from an illness just by solving the issue of food."
Lapisha dismissed it as nonsense, but,
"Um... those who had serious illnesses before that all failed to survive the winter."
The disciple replied with a sigh.
"...What did you just say?"
"It is also something I heard. There is a saying that all Northerners say in unison."
The disciple swallowed a dry gulp before answering.
"Winter takes everything."
At those words, all the masters and colleagues in the clinic swallowed their groans. People who always looked cheerful and happy. A heart that had no hesitation in sharing what was theirs.
'Was that the only way they could be?'
Since they couldn't be sure if they would survive the coming winter, they laughed louder if there was something to laugh about every day, and they did not hide joyous things, spending their time even more happily. Because humans are weak and fragile before harsh nature, they did not know who would become the prey of this long winter, so they pitied each other and did not hesitate to share even when they had nothing.
Only then could Lapisha understand the form of the heart that ran deep in the Northerners.
"Prepare to send letters."
Lapisha decided. The 'outsiders' they had met while wandering the Empire for decades. The citizens of the Empire, and those who were not. It was time to send letters to the countless outsiders who had been persecuted and pointed at for their skin color, origin, dialect, and religion.
That they had discovered a land that would become their home. And so, would they not like to ignite a flame together in this land of bitter cold?