"Do not simply pull it out," Galenus Dioscorides said, his own hand gently but firmly intercepting Treni's as she reached for the shaft. "The arrowhead may have impacted bone tissue. Use this instead." Assistant Florence retrieved a surgical scalpel from the basin, its immaculately cleaned blade capturing and reflecting the afternoon sunlight.

  Treni delicately pinched the instrument's handle between forefinger and thumb, promptly transferring it to her sister's waiting hand. Teresa accepted with visible reluctance. A stray sunbeam glinted off the metal and caught Onion Head's eyelids; they fluttered open as he released a piercing scream. "Don' wanna gie!" he slurred, his words thick and clumsy with pain. "Don' wanna be a cripple for the res' o' my life!"

  Both sisters froze in position, exchanging alarmed glances. "This isn't an amputation, good sir," the surgeon reassured in soothing tones. "We're merely extracting the embedded arrowhead. You'll recover completely—your leg will remain intact." Onion Head nodded weakly and settled back. However, when Teresa's blade flashed once more within his field of vision, he resumed shaking his head and wailing pitifully.

  "Shall we administer anesthesia, sir?" Following the surgeon's affirmative nod, the petite assistant produced a cloth thoroughly saturated with pale yellow liquid from a nearby basin—unmistakably soaked in Drowsy Goldbloom extract. "I beg you, sirs, please!" Onion Head managed to gasp, lifting his head from the table in a final plea. "I don't want to--" Before he could finish, Florence swiftly and efficiently stuffed the damp cloth into his open mouth. His eyes widened for a second, then his head fell back against the wood with a dull thud, and he was silent.

  "Let us proceed," the surgeon instructed. "He wouldn't stir now if an elephant trampled directly across his chest," Florence added with a dry chuckle.

  Teresa, profoundly reluctant yet seeing no alternative, embarked upon the first surgical procedure of her life. In the years to come, whenever an assistant would hand her a scalpel that caught the light just so, she would meet the gleam with a small, knowing smile, a silent salute to the frantic, terrified girl who had performed her first surgery on this very day. She incised carefully along both sides of the arrow shaft, her hand maintaining remarkable steadiness, the process progressing with unexpected smoothness. Having opened the wound, she followed her observations of Galenus's technique and addressed the assistant: "Hook, please."

  "Sharp-tipped or blunt variant?"

  Teresa found herself momentarily confounded. She glanced helplessly toward the surgeon, blinking in confusion. "Refrain from tormenting her, Florence," Galenus gently admonished his assistant. "Treni, assist by retracting the incision margins." Her sister inhaled deeply twice, accepted the proffered sharp hook from the assistant, and carefully spread the wound edges. Onion Head remained mercifully insensate.

  "It broke inside, too." The surgeon deliberately positioned himself away from the operating table, allowing maximum illumination of the wound site. "The shaft has broken off deep in the muscle. The head is still in there."

  Galenus Dioscorides rapidly evaluated the situation. "First, remove the visible shaft fragment—manual extraction will suffice. Subsequently, we must locate the detached arrowhead." Treni, moving with pointed haste, extracted the wooden shaft segment before her sister could react, seemingly determined to demonstrate that she could perform at least basic procedural elements. "Maintain retraction with the hook, you dolt!" Teresa snapped sharply. Florence collected the removed fragment and discarded it into a receptacle containing various spent blades. Treni returned her attention to the procedure, muttering indistinct complaints under her breath.

  "I cannot visualize the arrowhead." Teresa carefully separated muscle fibers and pale yellowish tendon with her fingertips. Onion Head continued his deep, anesthetic-induced slumber. "I'm unable to locate it, sir."

  "Maintain composure," Galenus reassured her. "Attempt an alternative approach."

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

  Florence had already anticipated the need, presenting a blunt-tipped hook. Teresa Disha White probed methodically through the glistening crimson tissues with the instrument. "It appears wedged against bony structure... and I perceive bone fragmentation as well."

  "That's periosteum tissue, Teresa, not bone proper." Galenus examined the metallic glint partially obscured by blood and flesh. "Fortuitously, the projectile merely lacerated the periosteal membrane—the underlying osseous structure remains intact."

  "...I'm experiencing considerable fatigue, sister."

  "Persevere, little one. We're nearly there."

  "Bone forceps, please." Teresa continued following the procedure sequence she had previously observed, earning an approving nod from the surgeon. With meticulous care, she clamped and extracted two periosteal fragments from between muscle tissues, depositing them in the waiting basin. "Sir, might you assist with retraction of these muscle groups using the hook?"

  "You possess sufficient capability for this task, miss." Galenus Dioscorides stated with unwavering conviction. "Trust in your developing skills."

  Teresa turned slightly aside, wiping accumulating perspiration from her brow with her sleeve. "Perhaps expedite the procedure, Teresa," Treni whispered urgently near her ear. "Hemorrhage is increasing. We haven't implemented hemostatic measures." Her sister acknowledged with a terse nod.

  She returned the bone forceps to Florence. "Extraction forceps, please." The half-elven woman elevated the muscle tissue with the retraction hook, creating adequate visualization space. Then, gripping the forceps in her right hand, she delicately navigated into the tissue and secured the metallic arrowhead. (Maintain composure.) she silently instructed herself. (Precision and stability are paramount.) At first, the arrowhead would not budge. "More force," the surgeon's voice seemed to drift to her from a great distance. "Meticulous caution is and always will be the first principle of our art, but speed, my ladies, is also of the essence." He added, a note of reluctance in his voice, "We do not have the luxury of racing against time; we are merely, and always, running desperately to keep up with it."

  Teresa bit her lower lip in concentration and executed a decisive extraction—the arrowhead emerged with a distinctive scraping sound of metal against bone. "Merciful deities," Florence exclaimed. "I apologize, I've—" Teresa's professional demeanor began disintegrating. "Suture immediately," the surgeon commanded decisively. "Cease fixating on that extracted metal fragment—proceed with wound closure."

  Assistant Florence presented a length of catgut suture material, which Treni promptly appropriated. "Hemorrhage is accelerating, sister." She nudged Teresa with her elbow, but receiving no response, initiated the procedure herself. She introduced the curved needle through the incision margin—fortunately, the wound edges remained cleanly defined, otherwise the task would have proven considerably more challenging. "Allow me to assist," Teresa announced, discarding the arrowhead with sudden decisiveness.

  The suturing process proceeded with notable difficulty—on several occasions, the needle failed to properly traverse the subdermal tissue. The assistant formed anxious fists, perspiration betraying her nervous tension. Following completion of the final suture knot, Treni collapsed unceremoniously onto the floor.

  "Commendable performance." The surgeon offered a genuine smile. "I've never intend to perform surgery again," Treni declared, dramatically draping her forearm across her forehead. "Never again in my existence, I solemnly vow."

  "It is the first time I have ever heard a surgeon take such an oath," Florence commented with a playful smirk.

  "Both of you demonstrated remarkable aptitude—particularly considering your inaugural attempt." The surgeon approached the patient, placing a reassuring hand upon his shoulder. Onion Head continued his peaceful repose.

  "I..." Teresa hesitated, her words emerging haltingly. "I desire to acquire additional medical knowledge."

  "I shall gladly facilitate your education, miss." Galenus Dioscorides nodded encouragingly. "Don't entertain such foolishness, sister," Treni interjected. "We possess no medical qualifications."

  "Yet we demonstrably saved a life. Moments ago, we preserved this man—this 'Onion Head.'"

  Treni Disha White found herself utterly perplexed by her sister's sudden passionate enthusiasm. "That merely represents fortunate circumstance—his injury lacked critical severity."

  "But it is something, Teresa. To save even one life when so many are being lost… surely that is a worthy thing."

  Treni lapsed into contemplative silence. "Perhaps we should have pursued vocations as religious sisters," Teresa remarked suddenly with a melancholy smile. "Rather than our... previous occupation."