August spent the next few days wandering around the hospital.
It looked just like a regular hospital, albeit the construction tactics were more than a little outdated. The walls were all whitewashed limestone that were complimented greatly by white tile floors. There were patients and doctors riding down hallways frequently, and some technology was usable, although it seemed to be only the essential ones.
All in all, the hospital seemed to be an exact replica of a modern one, save for a few pieces of technology that should have been staples in such a place. Vital signs monitors were few and far between, and recreational technologies were totally absent.
So August entertained himself through a strategic few means, one of which was following people around. He didn't like purple very much, but when there was nothing left to do, he could make attempts.
The doctor, Diya– she hated being called miss regardless of her age, was the one instructed to keep watch over him and Alia while they were admitted.
He had to admit she was an extremely competent doctor, she always seemed to be there the second anything went wrong. August had also followed her around as she did her daily activities, she seemed to be able to diagnose someone simply by looking at them.
She also managed to reach patients at the exact time she would be most needed, and her skills seemed to be centered around healing, and she was able to mend even some ghastly wounds.
It seemed to be an amazing power, but when he asked her about her skill, she simply told him:
"All blessings are a curse to those who are blessed"
August did not know what that meant, but it did not take much more comprehension skill to know not to pry. So he had left her alone for the rest of the time being, instead focusing on other things.
Of course, this did not last long as he was not acquainted with many of the hospital staff, of which there were quite a few. Though over time, one of them did take a liking to him.
A Hispanic man with black hair and silver eyes, who August had come to know as Mateo. Mateo was originally a pediatric doctor who he would occasionally bump into as he wandered the halls, he had found August in the cafeteria one day whilst collecting his lunch and sat down to have a chat with him.
A brief conversation was all it took for both August and Mateo to become acquainted, they both had a great interest in literature and writing, which led Mateo to asking a favor from him. August– trying to make new friends, accepted.
That was how August ended up becoming a storyteller for children admitted to the hospital.
He did enjoy it, watching the children's faces as he told them about Odysseus' journey home to Ithica, or Jason's voyage to go get the golden fleece. He did learn rather early on that the older children were not as fond of horror stories though.
Other times, he would assist Mateo in distracting a child getting a shot, or talking to young children as they went in for a surgery.
August also learned that anesthesia was present in the world, and that other basic medicines were as well. For other treatments, they would rely on people with specified skills.
Over his time in the hospital, August made a good few acquaintances. But there was one interesting that had left him almost entirely heartbroken.
Mateo had asked him to have a long conversation with a young boy, as nobody else was available. August had foolishly obliged request, the the boy had wanted to hear the entire story of Frankenstein's monster, to which August was happy to oblige.
He decided to tell the boy– named Christian, the more modernized version of the story, to which the boy stopped him and told him to tell the real one. Stating that he used to talk about it with his brother frequently before they had crossed over.
So August told him the real story of Victor Frankenstein and his monster– to the best of his ability, since he had babe taken kindly to horror myths. Christian listened enthusiastically from start to end, a smile plastered on his face. August had managed to finish the entire summarized version of the story without Christian showing any disinterest or boredom, which wasn't normal for children his age.
When he finished, Christian asked him a question.
"If Frankenstein only wanted left alone, then is he the bad guy of the story?"
Unable to find a way to explain the meaning of the word antagonist to Christian - he wasn't a teacher after all, August promised to bring an answer the next morning and left the boy to sleep.
That was the last time he saw Christian.
The young boy's death weighed heavily on his heart, and the worst part was that there was nobody to see the young boy off.
Apparently, though they knew his brother had survived the crossing, there was no way to contact him.
So, with Mateo standing beside him, August extracted one more aura mold from the young boy in the mortuary, who had a cloth draped over his body. Saving it in hopes of passing it on to the child's brother someday.
He stored the mold without even checking any of it's specifics, and left to go do something else.
That was why, on the eighth day since coming here, August was sitting beside the bed of his sleeping friend.
Alia was still asleep, though her vital signs had returned to normal and her injuries had healed. Diya had said it was simply a side effect of total aura exhaustion, and she would be waking up soon.
August had also learned a lot about aura in the past few days.
He learned that a person's aura was infinite, and it would replenish over time no matter how much you used. He also learned that nobody was truly sure what aura was, the leading theory is that aura was a theoretical state of energy that could be programed to perform various functions.
August now knew about many fields of aura study, the one that intrigued him most being alchemy–the ability to break something down into the bare chemical components and reconstruct something entirely different. To say he wanted to learn was an understatement.
Of course there were many other applications, but most of them were combative. Since aura was mostly used by people to fight and kill the wandering beasts of the new world. Aura constructs, infusion, enhancement and expulsion were a few of the applications for fighters.
There were a few general applications that were used for mundane tasks, but not any that intrigued him.
He had also learned a bit more about the new world's politics, but nothing he could truly speak on.
Sasha previously told him that each of the kings territories had a specialty- which was decided by both their skills and a vote they had taken, and this specialty was where each of the kings were granted their nicknames.
The king of progress, the king of direction, the king of the hunt, the king of agriculture, the king of warriors, the king of creation, and of course, the king of wanderers.
Ironically, not all of the kings were male, they simply decided on that name for their group for unknown reasons.
Another thing he learned, was that the kings were not singular existences, and they did not necessarily exist at the top of the food chain. Of course they were all incredibly powerful, but they were not unmatched.
Some of the various churches, organizations and even some recently emerging cults all possesed 'King level' combatants. However, what made the kings special was the nature of their work.
They were not separated or isolated from each other, and they moved as a single unit when times called for it, which made them a much greater fighting force than any other major power.
'Hart, just what the hell have you gone and become a part of?'
It was then that the door to their hospital room opened, and Diya stepped in, heavy bags weighing down her eyes as her straight black hair gave way to a few unkempt strands.
It was evident that she had not slept, and must have been extremely tired.
"Hello, is it time for my check up?" He asked.
The black haired woman shook her head, yawning.
"No, you see, your friend is due to wake up right about… now." She delivered rather bluntly.
Just like that, there was a stirring in the bed beside him.