Jinyel had never worked with teeth before. They weren’t quite bone, but they weren’t not bone, either. Their enervations were hard like bone on the outside, but soft on the inside like flesh. The sensation-nerves were delicate, same as most mouth-enervations, which made sense considering how debilitating a painful tooth could be.
He could only imagine the pain of a tooth in this state.
The Keha’al elder was patient with Jinyel’s poking and proding. The old man lay back against a grassy knoll on the outskirts of the main camp, with the Keha standing by to watch. There was less suspicion in her gaze now, and more curiosity. She didn’t trust Jinyel fully, but no longer did she think he was a spark of misfortune just waiting to ignite a wildfire.
The elder had too many teeth. That was what it looked like to Jinyel, anyway. At the very back of his jaw were eight teeth which had grown to odd angles, two on each side at the top and bottom. On the bottom left, one of those teeth had grown at such a wrong angle that it had grown directly into his cheek, which was naturally infected from having an open wound which could not close. The Keha had treated him with poultices and ointments to reduce the infection, but it would never truly heal so long as the wound stayed open. The elder’s breath was a sharp mix of those herbs, which made the task easier to bear.
Too many teeth, Jinyel signed to the Keha, although there was an uncertain slant to his hands.
“Wisdom teeth.” The woman nodded. “They’re never a problem if someone loses a tooth here and there. But he’s always had such good teeth, so he never lost any.”
“What justice is that?” grumbled the elder. “Getting sick as punishment for my teeth being too good?”
Stay still. Jinyel settled into a more comfortable position, turning the elder’s head so the sunlight shone fully on the problem.
A part of him wondered if he could shift the tooth back to its proper place, but that would require changing the structure of the jawbone itself. That seemed like a risky path to take in someone’s mouth, where even small changes could lead to immense pain. Removing the tooth entirely was the easiest option, since Jinyel was perfectly capable of filling the hole with more flesh. The elder still had many good teeth to chew with.
I should remove it, he signed to the Keha. Whole thing. Then can make sure infection stays away.
“He’s going to remove it,” the Keha translated. “I know you refused when I asked, but―”
“You’re not putting any rocks in my mouth,” he snapped. “No pincers, hammers, no nothing, an infection can’t be worse than having the teeth knocked out of me.”
The Keha looked to Jinyel. “You heard the man.”
No tools, Jinyel assured her. Don’t need them. Although, if the infection was to be drawn out… I need a fresh plant.
“A plant?” She blinked. “What kind?”
Any. Not poisonous. It will go outside his mouth.
She was baffled by this. “Do you mean… inside his mouth? You’ll make a poultice?”
No. He didn’t know how to explain graft-leech through sign, so he just said, Magic, and left it at that.
“What’s he doing?” demanded the elder. “The poultices didn’t work.”
“Be easy,” the Keha said. “Perhaps his will be different.”
The removal was simple. Jinyel began with a bit of energizing to dissolve the crown of the tooth. The elder grunted in discomfort when the magic reached the tooth’s sensitive core, so Jinyel spent a bit more ether to dull the pain. It was easy, with such a small and focused target. The tooth was made of such different material than the jaw and skin, it was easy to keep his magic from crossing the boundary. The tooth was gone in only a few bits, and the spurt of blood was easy to stem. A bit of skin here, a bit of flesh there, and the empty hole was filled back up.
Done. Almost. Jinyel’s magic faded, and he stood to go rustle around in the grass.
The elder and Keha exchanged words of incredulity ― her that it had happened so quickly, and him that his pained tooth had disappeared like a ghost.
Jinyel returned with a clump of grass he’d torn from the ground. He shook all the dirt out, then sat back down next to the elder and put the grass to the outside of his face.
“What in the world are you doing?” the Keha asked, as if he’d decided to heal the infection by painting the elder’s face pink.
It will help. Jinyel channeled ether into the grass and adhered it to the man’s skin.
“That’s… that’s rabbitgrass. That doesn’t do anything. There are no medicinal properties to that plant.”
Good. Throw it away after. Jinyel commanded the grass to leech out all traces of infection from the man’s body. He didn’t know how long it would take, but the injury was so small that he couldn’t imagine longer than a day. Do you have…
He didn’t know the sign for ‘bandage,’ so he mimed wrapping cloth around his own arm.
“Yes. I have that.” She produced a bandage for him, and watched in bewilderment as he bandaged the grass tightly against the man’s face.
Leave it until sundown, Jinyel said. Should be all finished by then.
The elder seemed almost as baffled as the Keha, and the two of them exchanged glances.
“He says you need to keep it on until sundown,” the Keha eventually translated.
The elder poked the bandage. “It feels strange. I thought this plant doesn’t do anything.” He sat up, chomping on nothing to test out the new lack of pain. “I don’t know what he did, but it’s gone. The tooth. The pain. And no one hammering it out of my mouth. I suppose looking like a fool for a trial is a small price to pay for that. Speaking of which…”
He looked Jinyel up and down, then at the Keha.
“Is he going to keep dressing like that, or…?”
The Keha raised a hand for silence, although there was an amused twitch at the corner of her mouth. “Later. Rest, and send for me if the pain returns.”
Jinyel wasn’t much of a socializer, but he knew the end of an encounter when he heard it. He shifted out of the way as the elder stood, and in another moment was left alone with the Keha.
Silence followed. That suited Jinyel. They sat at the edge of the main camp, sun above them, golden grass stretching to infinity in all directions. Jinyel had never seen so much gold in the Eternal Empire. The Sacred Forest was wild, but that was due to the agreement between Raskalarn and its spirits. This land was no forest. It was plainland, like the rolling farms which kept the Empire fed as it conquered ever onward.
She will tear up the grass, Jinyel signed.
“Hmm?” The Keha tilted her head. “Who?”
The army to the east. Jinyel didn’t look at her as he said it. She will turn the grass to wheat, and raise a hundred towns where now there are none. Any land which is not owned, she will change to suit herself.
“No one can own land,” the Keha protested. “Merely live upon it.”
Then it is free for her to change.
“What of the animals? There are herds of aurochs and kahrun so vast they can cover the horizon.”
Small strips of gold left in between the farms. Enough for herds to move, but nothing like it is now.
“And what of people like us? People who follow the herds? What happens to the people who do not farm?”
They become warriors in her service. But for you, I do not know. There are no peoples in the east who live as you do.
The Keha was silent for a long time. Jinyel let his hands rest. He didn’t know how to articulate the deep unease this expansion left in him. Raskalarn was generous to her own subjects, yes, but had a particular idea of how her land ought to be run. To her ideas, this vast, rich grassland was just farmland that hadn’t been planted yet. The villages and settlements were just subjects who hadn’t realized they were designed to be ruled by her. Jinyel had never met Raskalarn, but he had met Agnis. He knew well the deep belief of every Imperial citizen that Raskalarn was the only correct person to rule over anything, and that to enforce her rulership was merely to correct others’ misfortune of living outside her borders.
As far as Jinyel knew, this expansion was no retaliation. No one had struck at her from this place. Raskalarn wanted to own it simply because she could.
“Come with me to the Loktul.” The Keha stood, and gestured for Jinyel to follow. “This is a discussion best shared with him.”
