Summer 2025 · Torch: U.S. · CREATIVE WRITING
16
Asclepius rose from the hard bed, yawned, and stretched his arms until they grazed the walls of the tiny room. A row of small bowls lined a long table on one side of the room, where he practiced the medicinal remedies and cures he had learned over the years from Apollo and Chiron. Swinging his feet off the wooden frame, his gaze fell on the bowl perched on a small shelf by his bed. As he stood up, he stared at his still reflection in the watery mixture of herbs he had put together yesterday. It was meant to be a painkiller after consumption, making someone temporarily forget all the bad things that had happened recently.
A strand of shining golden brown hair fell over his face, making Asclepius come back to reality. He brushed it back behind his ear and lifted his eyes from the shimmering water. He took a small cup and dipped it gingerly in the liquid, then, he tiptoed to his mother's door. The knob creaked under Asclepius’s slender but steady fingers, and a streak of light escaped from the door into the room. Glancing at her slim figure lying peacefully on the bed, a small smile crossed Asclepius’s lips as he closed her door softly behind him.
He knelt by Arsinoe’s bed, lifting her upright gently. Eyes still closed, Arsinoe whispered, “Apollo? Are you home?” reaching out longingly with her wrinkled hands. Asclepius put a finger to his lips, and a small sound, as soothing as the flow of a waterfall, left his mouth. He lifted the cup in front of her face, pouring the herbals into her mouth. After swallowing, his mother lay down quietly, and Asclepius left the room, breathing softly, “Love you, Mother.”
He headed to the healer’s room, where the centaur was already waiting for him. “Today you’ll be treating some patients,” Chiron smiled warmly. Asclepius loved Chiron, all the things his teacher said and taught him filled his empty life with new things to learn and work to do.
Chiron would kneel beside him, explaining to him all the things Asclepius’s father didn’t have the time for. Asclepius distinctly remembered him during a certain surgery he had hoped to forget forever. He recalled that the moon was covered by the clouds, and he had been operating since noon. His tired hands were slick with sweat, making all his wet tools glint threateningly as the candlelight flickered and reflected off them.
He was desperately trying to bring the patient back, but her pulse weakened every time Asclepius held his breath and dared to touch her wrist, until it disappeared and he could only try to convince himself that he could still feel it. Asclepius collapsed by her cold body, curled over, choking violently and sobbing endlessly into his wet hands until the candles burned out and every last drop of light fled the room.
Chiron padded over silently, kneeling by him and placing a hand on his shoulder, spreading his warmth through Asclepius’s miserable body. Asclepius didn’t lift his head, but he wiped the tears angrily from his face. That day Asclepius swore to devote his life to learning medicine. He would never let anybody under his protection lose their life again. Today, he was going to take the knowledge he had learned over the years and use it to help his patients. Asclepius studied the five men and women lying on the floor, and immediately got to work.
He treated the sword wounds on the first man, cleaning and binding several cuts. He gave a woman one of his herb mixtures to help her fever. He tended another woman’s sore hand with a leaf paste. He cured a man’s headache with a warm, damp
cloth. He healed another man’s injured foot, bandaging it carefully. He advised a
woman with a certain diet to make her heart stronger again.
After Asclepius finished, he was exhausted, but his heart swelled with sympathy,
pride, fulfillment, and all the beautiful emotions as the men and women stood shakily,
touching their head or their stomach or their chest. He bid them all farewell and a good
recovery, but as he turned to Chiron, his teacher said, “Sorry Asclepius, one more
patient.”
Asclepius’s head turned at the slight rustling at the door of the healer’s room. A
man, glowing faint gold, stepped into the room, holding a small, intricately carved lyre in
one hand and a shining, gold bow in another. Chiron left the room quietly as shock
rippled violently across Asclepius’s face. “Father! What happened to you?”
SON OF THE GOD OF MEDICINE
Latin 2M, 8th Grade
Word Count: 939
4
He helped Apollo to his room, where the god lay quietly on the bed, his golden
glow pulsing weakly. While Asclepius fed Apollo revitalizing herbs and ambrosia, Apollo
told him about what happened. After Asclepius brought people back from death, Apollo
had interfered with Zeus’s lightning bolt, making Zeus banish him and force him to
serve King Admetos for one year. The king treated him terribly, beating him and
ordering him like a servant. After his service, Apollo eventually found his way to
Asclepius, hoping to continue teaching him the arts of medicine.
Asclepius listened intently to Apollo’s story, and when he had finished, Asclepius
carefully helped him clean up. He fed Apollo more ambrosia then gently pulled the
covers to his chin. “Don’t worry, Father. You can teach me tomorrow.” He took the small
cup leftover from the morning and poured its remaining contents into his father’s
mouth. Apollo smiled faintly and closed his eyes. Asclepius felt his heart swell with
another emotion - love. As his eyes fluttered softly shut, he whispered, “Love you too,
Dad.”
He couldn't imagine life without school. He thought about his teacher, Magister Felix, whose voice seemed to bring the words on the scrolls to life.
Jessica Xu, Harker Middle School, California
Harker Middle School,
California
Winning 7/8th grade submission, 2024-2025 NJCL Creative Writing Contest
SON
GOD
MEDICINE
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