Long and Winding Road (EM, Maze)

[Faruq Al-Farhan]

Lamis actually prefers sitting on the ground to stools, and settles to the side and a bit behind Faruq, looking curiously at his equipment, and at the crowds of needy people. Their tiny corner looks like a pebble on the edge of the desert, honestly.

"What sorts of malady are common here? Not that she has any idea of disease and treatment beyond things like 'bleeding is bad, and so is that strange rash.' But, despite her general comfort with simply watching in silence, that doesn't seem entirely polite. This isn't guard duty, after all.

Faruq gives her a weak, but sincere smile. "Funny that you should ask that. In fact, a friend asked something similar when he was with me at the Maze just a couple days ago."

He waves for a man with a wound on his foot to come closer, then looks at her again.

"As I said before... much of the most usual and simple - sprained joints, some fractures, wounds from accidents, and sadly enough often from violence. But then, a fair number have diseases that are... harder to deal with. Bowel issues I can sometimes help with. Some rashes respond to one concoction or another. But those that come to me with diseases that take their breath, or with blisters that won't heal... there is precious little I can do for them. I try to bring them some comfort, and try to convince them to isolate themselves - as that may at least prevent the illness from spreading further... but I often feel there is much I must learn of my craft to do more to those poor souls."

As the man comes to him, he greets him and starts taking a look at his foot, then gets gauze, a scalpel and some salted water and starts working on it, making a small incision to drain some discharge from the wound.

"Are the types of illness found among those in your people much too different? I suppose the different lifestyle might lead to... some differences, at least...", he says without really looking at her as his attention is on the 'patient' for now.

[Ali ibn Farid]

Ali's eyebrows went up, and he grimaced, just a little, as the doctor gave his description. He was no stranger to injury or suffering, but in a large city like this one, the reference to spreading disease was enough to give even a stout heart pause. "I'll, ah, go see about passing out some food."

Clearing his throat, he began pulling the covers off some of the baskets they'd been carrying.

[Lamis Naaji]

For her part, Lamis doesn't seem at all squeamish about it. "Injuries of course, though I'd guess we get more folks stepped on or kicked by horses and camels than you see here. I'm no healer, but people do take ill. Eat something bad, or those dry coughs, misjudge the day and cook their brains."

She watches Faruq's patient grimace through the procedure, watches those Ali gives food. There's gratitude in some eyes, but others seem resentful or angry, though they take what's offered all the same. "I've seen disease sweep through the sheep once, but luckily not through the family so far. Though there's stories, of course. Coming to a known oasis and finding another family already there, but everyone's dead and cursed place is marked so nobody will go there again, or at least not for a long while. If it's disease, it might be gone, if it's a curse, well, the sorry lot that finally go in there again will just start the whole thing over."

"Where did you learn?" She asks Faruq. "I've heard there are schools for such things."

[Tarset Kishan]

Tarset decided that stools were a bit too late, and she didn't plan on sitting anyway. Staying standing, she kept an eye on the crowd, especially since they were mostly those with injuries looking for treatment of one sort or another. She'd been busy with the tournament the past few days, but there was always a possibility that someone approaching Faruq would be there because of her work.

Deciding that if it came to that she'd cross that bridge then, she decided to silently join Ali in handing out food and water, leaving the other two to talk. "I didn't take you for the squeamish sort Ali. All this can't be so foreign to you if you visit the Maze at all."

[Faruq Al-Farhan]

For her part, Lamis doesn't seem at all squeamish about it. "Injuries of course, though I'd guess we get more folks stepped on or kicked by horses and camels than you see here. I'm no healer, but people do take ill. Eat something bad, or those dry coughs, misjudge the day and cook their brains."

She watches Faruq's patient grimace through the procedure, watches those Ali gives food. There's gratitude in some eyes, but others seem resentful or angry, though they take what's offered all the same. "I've seen disease sweep through the sheep once, but luckily not through the family so far. Though there's stories, of course. Coming to a known oasis and finding another family already there, but everyone's dead and cursed place is marked so nobody will go there again, or at least not for a long while. If it's disease, it might be gone, if it's a curse, well, the sorry lot that finally go in there again will just start the whole thing over."

"Where did you learn?" She asks Faruq. "I've heard there are schools for such things."

He nodded between Lamis' words, even though his eyes were kept on the man's foot. Even lets out a soft chuckle at some comments. "I should imagine wounds caused by horses and camels are more common than here, yeah. And I imagine they aren't always a pretty sight either. As for sunstroke..." - that is what he calculates she meant by 'cooking their brains', at least, as from what she's told them so far he doesn't think her people actually eat each others' brains. "It would make sense for it to be much more common in the desert too, I suppose. But we do get quite a bit of that here too, now you mention it. Most people are smart enough to keep in the shade when the streets really start boiling, but it's not that uncommon for some unfortunate folks to misjudge their resilience."

The discharge mostly taken care of, he starts patching the wound back up.

"Contagious diseases are always the worst... and in many ways, it's hard to tell them from curses, I guess. I mean, for some things, it's known that keeping those affected far from others should help. But where, and how, does a surge of consuming cough actually start? How does the first leper in an area catch the disease?" He shrugs. "I have much to learn, as I said... but for all I know, it might well be a curse by Shilah - or Kaleel, for that matter. Although... it is odd that such a curse would befall so much more often on those who have the least means."

He finishes the work on the man's foot, tapping his leg and greeting him with a weak smile and an "aleikum as-salaam" before turning his attention back to Lamis.

"At times it feels as if it were a curse placed on some people by the actions of others. Perhaps it's just not something for us to understand", he adds, as he sees a woman coughing, waves to her to come closer and extends his hand to get a small flask with a paste with a herbal smell.

"But as to your question... there are schools, so I've heard too. But I'd guess those are... mostly for the Dahabi and their ilk, if you know what I mean. What I know... I've learnt from my ummi, who's learnt from her parents, who've learnt from their own parents, or so I've heard from mama."

He looks up at her for a moment, his brows raised a bit. "First time I think about it in a while... but my ummi said her family were originally nomads, too."

[Lamis Naaji]

Quietly she says, "you will always be mystified if you think of the gods as fair. They are no more fair than a sandstorm or flood, they just are. There's such a thing as deserving your fate...if you walk into a flood or dare the sun to roast you, but mostly you're just in the wrong place as the disaster happens." She watches his hands wrapping the wound, careful and skilled. "Means allow one to avoid living where the flood tends to run, and to hire divinations, and so on. Some things are just plain good or poor luck, but others? Hmmm."

"Well, healing is healing, be it taught at the schools or the knee."

The last draws a sharp look of surprise. "Did she say what family? Or what territory they claimed?"

[Ali ibn Farid]

Deciding that if it came to that she'd cross that bridge then, she decided to silently join Ali in handing out food and water, leaving the other two to talk. "I didn't take you for the squeamish sort Ali. All this can't be so foreign to you if you visit the Maze at all."

Ali grimaced, shooting Tarset a quick rueful look. "I am used to poverty. My family grew up in the Mekhem district, but in the poorest part of it. Starvation, dehydration, I'm quite familiar with those. And injury, well..." Another grimace. "Well, I've become familiar with that sort of thing, too."

He paused in setting up the food distribution. "Disease, though. An enemy that I cannot treat nor fight. Although there are those who can fight it, at least." He cast a fond smile towards Faruq.

A shake of his head. "Diseases have gone through the city from time to time. I've read about them. So many dead... I will not deny that the the thought unsettles me somewhat."

[Faruq Al-Farhan]

Quietly she says, "you will always be mystified if you think of the gods as fair. They are no more fair than a sandstorm or flood, they just are. There's such a thing as deserving your fate...if you walk into a flood or dare the sun to roast you, but mostly you're just in the wrong place as the disaster happens." She watches his hands wrapping the wound, careful and skilled. "Means allow one to avoid living where the flood tends to run, and to hire divinations, and so on. Some things are just plain good or poor luck, but others? Hmmm."

"Well, healing is healing, be it taught at the schools or the knee."

The last draws a sharp look of surprise. "Did she say what family? Or what territory they claimed?"

He thought for a long time about her words on the gods as he applied the herbal paste to the base of the woman's neck, asked her a few questions, heard her breathing with his hand on her back, then gave her some more of the paste on a small parcel to take home.

He then finally nodded. "... I suppose it makes sense if you think like that. But then... that brings us to the Prophet's words, I suppose. 'Wisdom to awaken the courage that sleeps in the heart of the common man', wasn't it? So maybe... we can help keep some out of the way of floods, and if we can't help the first leper in a quarter, we can help avoid it reaching others. And... if we awaken the courage, maybe others will do the same, eh?"

His face is serious again, and somewhat grim even, but there seems to be a slight sparkle of hope deep inside his eyes. When she asks about his mother's family, his eyes shift to her and he seems to start thinking again.

"Hm. It was a long time ago that I last heard those stories, but..." He keeps silent for a moment, his eyes drifting off as he tried to bring his mother's voice back to mind. "The Tirkak. I think. If I'm remembering the stories properly."

"I don't really know much about them, though. I know my Jiddo, my Jidda or maybe both were healers, and I know from stories that they knew their way with horses... but not much more." He looks at her again. "Maybe... you know more about them, Sayyeda?"

[Lamis Naaji]

He thought for a long time about her words on the gods as he applied the herbal paste to the base of the woman's neck, asked her a few questions, heard her breathing with his hand on her back, then gave her some more of the paste on a small parcel to take home.

He then finally nodded. "... I suppose it makes sense if you think like that. But then... that brings us to the Prophet's words, I suppose. 'Wisdom to awaken the courage that sleeps in the heart of the common man', wasn't it? So maybe... we can help keep some out of the way of floods, and if we can't help the first leper in a quarter, we can help avoid it reaching others. And... if we awaken the courage, maybe others will do the same, eh?"

His face is serious again, and somewhat grim even, but there seems to be a slight sparkle of hope deep inside his eyes. When she asks about his mother's family, his eyes shift to her and he seems to start thinking again.

"Hm. It was a long time ago that I last heard those stories, but..." He keeps silent for a moment, his eyes drifting off as he tried to bring his mother's voice back to mind. "The Tirkak. I think. If I'm remembering the stories properly."

"I don't really know much about them, though. I know my Jiddo, my Jidda or maybe both were healers, and I know from stories that they knew their way with horses... but not much more." He looks at her again. "Maybe... you know more about them, Sayyeda?"

"The family isn't familiar...but it's a big desert. I know there are smaller families I've probably never heard of Still, I have to wonder why they came to the city...something may have left them alone, family gone. Like one of those attacks." Lamis thinks that few families would ever have a reason to chase away their healers, otherwise.

"Or they just thought, somehow, that life would be better in the city? That their skills as healers would be honored here more than among their family? No real way to tell, if they didn't tell you." Watching the woman with labored breathing leave, Lamis thinks that something about her chin looks familiar. Why not, when she's sitting beside a Nomad's grandson. How many of her own family were spread here like oil atop a pool..or maybe grains of sand in the salt at the table?

"There are floods, but there are also times for floods. It does no good to tell everyone to avoid the river in all seasons, when you need those plains for crops the rest of the time. What if courage is of little use before the time is right? The embers are needed, but maybe some diviners too, eh?"

[Faruq Al-Farhan]

"The family isn't familiar...but it's a big desert. I know there are smaller families I've probably never heard of Still, I have to wonder why they came to the city...something may have left them alone, family gone. Like one of those attacks." Lamis thinks that few families would ever have a reason to chase away their healers, otherwise.

"Or they just thought, somehow, that life would be better in the city? That their skills as healers would be honored here more than among their family? No real way to tell, if they didn't tell you." Watching the woman with labored breathing leave, Lamis thinks that something about her chin looks familiar. Why not, when she's sitting beside a Nomad's grandson. How many of her own family were spread here like oil atop a pool..or maybe grains of sand in the salt at the table?

"There are floods, but there are also times for floods. It does no good to tell everyone to avoid the river in all seasons, when you need those plains for crops the rest of the time. What if courage is of little use before the time is right? The embers are needed, but maybe some diviners too, eh?"

Faruq seems a small bit frustrated at Lamis' answer, but of course he knows she's right - it is a big desert, and it's not like all nomads know all the other tribes and families.

His brows furrow a bit with growing curiosity at his own family's history as she continues, though. "Ha. I'd... actually never given that much thought, I guess. I just took it for a fact that, you know, my grandparents were healers from the desert."

He seems thoughtful for a moment - some sadness maybe hiding behind the blank façade. "Maybe mom would know that. If she's still..."

He cuts the sentence short, shaking his head slightly, and quickly goes on to the next topic.

"You're definitely right there though, Sayyeda. We could never live away from the river at all times. And knowing when to get closer or not is definitely a boon. I just feel all sharing that boon - and maybe all sharing more of the work in and around the river, and having somewhere to go back to when the floods come - might make things easier, you know?"