10. Ell-rom

10

ELL-ROM

E ll-rom watched Bridget enter the room with a strange contraption and followed her movements as she set the device near the foot of his bed. It was a metallic structure with four legs, each ending in a cap that was made from some sort of rubbery material.

Jasmine followed, but she stayed by the door to give the medic room.

Bridget eyed his half-eaten meal and frowned. "I see that your appetite is still diminished."

"I have an aversion to eggs," he admitted. "The smell is nauseating to me."

Bridget's eyes widened for a moment. "Right. You have an aversion to animal products. Since the gods don't have that problem, I thought that it was a conscientious choice that your body somehow remembered, but it seems that your aversion is very deeply rooted."

He knew what eggs were, but he didn't remember whether he had ever eaten fowl or their eggs.

"I liked the oatmeal and the banana slices with the sweet liquid over them."

"Good. I'll get you more fruit for your next meal." Bridget positioned the device next to the bed. "So, this is the walking assistance device I told you about. It's called a walker, and it will help support your weight and provide stability as you walk while you build up your strength."

Ell-rom eyed it warily. "How does it work?"

"First, let's get you sitting up on the edge of the bed."

With her assistance, Ell-rom swung his legs over the side and sat upright. The room tilted slightly, and the contents of his meal threatened to come out the same way they had gone in.

"One moment." Gripping the edge of the bed, he breathed through the nausea.

"Take your time." Bridget placed a hand on his shoulder. "Let me know when you are ready to continue."

"I don't know why I'm reacting this way. I was fine yesterday when you helped me walk around the room."

"It might be the food," Bridget said. "Your body is so weak that even digestion is a stressor. We will need to divide your daily calorie intake into smaller and more frequent meals."

It was disturbing to think that eating a relatively small meal could put such a demand on his energy reserves, and it didn't seem logical to him, but he didn't have enough information to doubt Bridget. She seemed like a competent senior medic, so he should trust her assessment.

Taking a deep breath, Ell-rom focused on the floor beneath his feet, and when the room steadied and his stomach settled, he looked up at Bridget and nodded. "I'm ready."

"Good." She positioned the walker in front of him. "Now, place both hands on the grips here." She demonstrated, wrapping her hands around the handles.

Ell-rom mimicked her actions. The cool material under his palms felt foreign, but the stability of the walker was reassuring.

"Now push down slightly on the walker as you stand up," Bridget instructed. "Use it to support your weight, and I'll be right here to help you."

Bridget's hand was at his elbow as he pushed against the walker, guiding and steadying him as he rose to his feet.

The world wobbled momentarily, but the walker held firm.

"Excellent," Bridget encouraged. "To move, lift the walker slightly and place it a small step ahead of you. Then, step forward with one foot at a time."

Ell-rom focused on her words, lifting the walker as she instructed. It felt awkward as he moved it forward and took a tentative step with his right foot and then his left.

"You're doing great," Bridget encouraged. "Make a few more steps around the room."

Ell-rom repeated the process, finding a rhythm in the mechanical motions. Lift, step, lift, step. With each repetition, his confidence grew, though the process still felt awkward to him.

"How does it feel?" the physician asked. "Are you still feeling nauseous?"

"Not at all. I feel good." He cast a sidelong glance at Jasmine. "I'm ready to venture out of the clinic for the first time."

"We have a slight problem." Bridget looked down at his feet. "You don't have any shoes, and I'd rather not give you hospital booties. They're too slippery for your unsteady steps."

As Ell-rom followed her gaze to his bare feet, a flush crept up his neck.

It suddenly dawned on him that he had nothing. He didn't even own clothing or shoes. He was completely and utterly dependent on these people, and not just until his health was restored.

The prospect of being a beggar in his half-sister's community filled him with shame. Perhaps the Kra-ell who lived among them needed a priest?

Would he ever remember what that entailed?

And even if he did, how was he going to perform his priestly duties while having a relationship with Jasmine?

Would the Kra-ell accept a priest who was half god and who was not celibate?

Ell-rom didn't remember a thing of what he had been taught, but he knew that everyone needed a purpose. For most, providing their family with a roof over their heads, clothing for their bodies, and full bellies was enough, but some needed to do more to feel like they were contributing to the greater good.

Right now, he wasn't capable of providing even the basics for himself, let alone someone else, and to realize his full potential, he first needed to find out what it was.