Closed [Sanctuary] Know Who Your Friends Are

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

12th Fall, 512 A.V. They had left Endrykas behind three days before, but much of Sama'el's work had been between the traveling city and the home of the Akalak. The Drykas Web hung in ragged shreds across the region and he was just one among many attempting to patch it back up. Without their system of quick news and communication, they would be a much easier target for anyone who might want to wipe them off the face of the world. Once they reached the city, though, they were not long for it, and he had let Mealla leave to hunt if only because a pretty woman without a chaperone might not be safe. Of course, that could have been his own misjudgment, but he remembered the attack on Issima, and he thought of Kavala making the best of her status here. But it was time to introduce Mealla to the Konti with a Drykas soul, and he knew Ronan needed no excuse to visit. Sama'el smiled as they approached. Bigarren remembered it although Dohaina had spent the most time there; she remained in Endrykas with her foal, Bigarren needing time with Sama'el to be sure his training stuck. "We sank an Origin below the building," he explained to Mealla, who would be of the Watch someday and might need to know such things. It would be her responsibility to defend it from attack. "Kavala is its guardian." They had arrived, though, and so he left the rest for Mealla to experience herself. If nothing else, Kavala had impeccable Drykas hospitality.

[Ronan]

As they approached Sanctuary, Ronan reined Tairell in a little, whispering her name and ruffling her mane a little. He was excited. One name rattled in the wind, Kavala. He only hoped things would be a little clearer this time. Their last encounter had been... awkward. That gap between them. That divide. It had thundered and broiled, and made things difficult. He turned to Sam, leading the trio, and Mealla. "The Web is strong here - perhaps the strongest point in the whole city. Last time I was here, I performed a lot of maintenance, and I know Kavala does a lot herself too." He looked at the girl in particular this time. She was an odd one. A Drykas woman, wanting to be a Drykas man. That was what he saw - and yet he didn't judge her for it. "Mealla. Are you able to access the Web?" As he waited for her reply, he looked back to his brother and nodded firmly. "Lead the way brother."

[Kavala]

The Sanctuary was a busy place. Since the summer activity wined down, the denizens has been concentrating on the rebuild. They had a massive imposing wall built around the whole structure that doubled the accessible space inside from the once modest faculty. The wall was smooth and rounded at the top, curved so no hooks could find purchase. There was a walk along the top of its twenty feet walls so that people could see out, but no one could see in. The Akalaks had quirked eyebrows when the walls went up in the Spring, but after the Djed Storm, paranoia ran rampant and so its presence wasn't questioned.

The main imposing stone gates where thrown open, leading into a courtyard with a fountain (non-working as of yet) which lead to a second set of gates made of stone that lead to an arena. Visitors could dismount, secure their horses, and walk through the arena or barns to the clinic on the far side. The arena had a young human woman in it, quietly giving a lesson to a group of young Akalak boys on horseback. They looked strange riding Drykas style, but there was little need for too much tack when battle came about.

The barns on either side were under construction. Rubble was piled up beyond them, almost out of sight, but still visible enough to clue the visitors into the fact that utter destruction had visited this place once in the near past. A drykas groom, familiar to Sama'el's party named Aweston ran out to greet them, and beckoned them to leave their horses not in the courtyard with other guests, but in a densely grassed paddock behind one of the under construction barns where they'd be secure and unbothered.


"Kavala's up at the clinic if you are looking for her. She's in the surgery yard working on a horse. I hope you have strong stomachs." The groom said, gesturing. "You can cut across the arena. The lesson boys won't bother you, or you can walk around. The paths are marked with flagging and stakes, but becareful of the rubble. We're not quite where we need to be yet for the whole place to be totally safe." He said, giving them a paved pathway to walk in, made of interlocking stones infused with gemstone patterns that looked reimancy in origin. Lines of webbing, noticeable if the webbers looked, ran the length of the walkway, guiding and protecting the denizens from unseen or unwanted intruders. In fact, all the newly standing buildings were webbed together, though in odd ways that perhaps no Drykas would duplicate for tenting.

Kavala was indeed outside the clinic, right outside, in a stone courtyard that had a thick pad laid down and on top of that canvas. A horse stretched out on its back, legs in the air wrapped with canvas tugs that supported the animal over a stone built frame that held pullies. It looked as if Kavala had hooked one horse up to another and used the second horse via the pullies and hoist to roll the first onto its back and then up into the air where it could be secured... and its belly exposed. The other horse was no where to be seen - the one acting as a crane, but the harness lay neatly by ready to be utilized when the animal had to come down off the contraption.

Kavala had opened the animals body cavity up and was busy pulling out miles of intestines checking them for blockages. Periodically she'd stop, slice open the intestine, and pull out foreign material that was a dense compacted black substance that almost looked like stone. She'd then cleanse and seal the wound and move on. Her arms were bloody, her torso bloody, and even her face was smeared with blood. An assistant knelt at the animals head, checking its gums to make sure the blood was refilling them when the lips were pressed and turned white then released. Doing so kept tabs on the animals blood pressure and while at the same time allowed the assistant to monitor its breathing.

Kavala was so focused in what she was doing, she didn't hear the group approach. She simply pulled intestine and tucked it back in as it was checked.

[Mealla Stormsong]

They had only been here for a matter of days, but Mealla already found herself longing for the familiarity of Endrykas. Everything here was just so strange, so different, so new, and so completely overwhelming that she didn’t know where to look more often than not. The sights, the smells, the sounds... It was not like back home with the pavilions and tents; the small family groups. Riverfall was a true city in every sense of the word. She was could not hide her relief, then, at the sight of the paddocks; the grass that now faced her. She could almost ignore the buildings. The Sanctuary, it was called, or so Sama’el had said. Mealla still did not know why he had suggested that they come here. It was a nice suggestion, yes, but... She did not want him to be nice, and she did not want him to introduce her to his friends. She didn’t want to think of him as a human – as an individual -, because that made it harder for her to hate and resent him. You couldn’t hate someone who had different sides to them; someone who loved and cared and felt. She wanted to keep her distance from him, but she hadn’t been able to refuse. A pupil never refused a teacher, after all, no matter how much they wanted to. Her thoughts were torn from her as she looked across the arena the groom had pointed to, and she froze –halted completely -, taking in the sight before her – the series of pulleys, the horse, the fact that it was on its back, belly exposed, from which... from which...., - and Mealla paled-,... from which bloody, glistening coils of... of intestines protruded, pulled by a woman who was no less bloody. Mealla swallowed, wavering slightly, unconsciously moving closer to Sama’el so that she could grab him if need be. She suddenly found herself wishing for Andraste’s reassuring presence; her comfort. She forced herself to look away, to tear her gaze from the sight and focus on Ronan, realising that she had not yet answered his question. But her eyes drifted back, and she swallowed again, feeling dizzy. Dizzier. “I-I’m sorry, what-?” she said finally, still unable to look away. “I’ve... I’ve never tried. The web, I mean.” She paused, unable to keep silent any longer. “What... what’s she doing?” Her voice trembled. And she paled yet more. Blood. She'd never liked blood.

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

Sama'el too had helped some with the rebuilding, throwing himself into it to forget the loss of Issima, and then going back to be with his son, the bear cub. There had been little rest in those days, and though the ache still came back strongly at times, he was able to focus on the people that remained in his life, and that vision he had of the future. There were changes everywhere, and he was intrigued by the mark of Kavala's work on the local Web. She had truly shaped it with great stewardship. It was interesting to see how the Web seemed more solid here, in this place that didn't move as Endrykas moved. "Thank you, Aweston," he said as they dismounted and walked on, trusting their Striders to the excellent care of the Sanctuary. He had helped her the previous season with a difficult delivery, but even he paled at what they saw. If he noticed Mealla's uncharacteristic closeness, he didn't comment upon it, nor even really pay attention to her answer to Ronan's question. The woman was a healer, blessed by Rak'keli, and truly the best healer of animals he had ever met, and possibly the human animal if she put her mind to it. Even her assistant seemed more expert than him, and so while he would have helped without question if asked, he just whispered that they should be still and quiet, the Pavi reinforced with gesture. The last thing they ought to do when the poor horse's guts were being examined and cut into was break Kavala's concentration.

[Ronan]

Ronan said thanks as Tairell was led to somewhere comfortable for her to rest. As they came around, and he set eyes on Kavala, she was in full healer mode. Blood and guts and all. Ronan was not squeamish - probably the least of the three Dryka. He had seen horrors. On the Grasses, so many seasons ago, when he had found the dead woman amongst the chaos of the masked bandits. She, and her unborn baby, had been stabbed mercilessly. He could never erase that sight from his mind. Mealla however looked terribly uncomfortable. She'd gone as white as a sheet. Sama'el motioned for them to stay quiet while Kavala finished her duties, so Ronan leaned against a wall, eyes flitting between Mealla's ghastly shock, and the Konti's grim actions. She did it because it was needed. He knew Kavala well enough to know it barely phased her. She'd wade through all the blood and gore in the world if it saved a life. As Drykas as she was, that was a very Konti trait indeed...

[Kavala]

The assistant watched them approach wide-eyed. She tossed sniffed the air, glanced back at Kavala, and then stared openly at the newcomers. They could see her vertical pupils and her sharp teeth. She hissed slightly, like a cat spitting its indignity, and Kavala looked up and straight at the girl.

"Whats wr...." Her eyes scanned the courtyard, fell upon Sama'el, then Mealla, and finally rested on Ronan. Her gaze softened slightly from the serious healer stare as they rested on the Drykas man, then switched back to Mealla as if her brain just registered something she saw. "You might want to get her sitting down somewhere. She looks a little pale." Kavala said suddenly, concerned. She glanced down at her hands, and then back up at Sama'el. "I'm almost done with her. Is it an emergency?" She asked, blinking and suddenly looking confused. She glanced that the kelvic and then up at Sama'el. For a moment, the Sunsinger Ankal could see Kavala's bone deep weariness before she concealed it before pulling the last of the intestine through her hands and tucking it back in. The pile of compacted material accumulated in a metal pan at her side was significant, perhaps twenty pounds worth, all rock hard and seemingly painful if lodged in an intestine.

Kavala tapped her gnosis marks, flared power in her hands, and cleansed the wound with a touch before sealing the abdominal muscles back together and then the skin covering the incision. Then carefully she rose, moved everything back, released her assistant, and fetched a different mare that was actually not far grazing in an unturned garden plot. She harnessed the Seme mare up then slowly whispered to her, and walked back to the patient who was up in the apparatus. With a soft word and her hands on the cranks, she urged the mare to back up and release the tension on the 'hung up' horses' limbs.

The mare complied slowly, seemingly understanding the delicate nature of what was going on, and carefully backed up letting the horse come to a slow rest on the ground legs stretched out. Kavala rearranged the buckles and brought a sling up that the patient was already laying across and then asked the horse to walk forward. The Seme mare gently hoisted the other horse up once more but this time onto its feet, held securely in a sling that took almost all of its weight off its feet with a lot of slack in its legs. When the animal roused from the anesthetic it could easily stand on its own, but the sling would not allow it to fall if it staggered and thus further injure itself. Kavala secured the lines and then went back to the Seme mare, unharnessed her quickly and lead the mare back to the big arena where she turned her loose with a word of thanks.

She was back in just a moment, and beckoned to the group. "Stay with her?" Kavala asked the kelvic when she reappeared, and the cat-eyed girl nodded. "I'll check back in twenty chimes or so.. it will be at least that long before she rouses. I dosed her heavily because I thought it would take longer." Kavala explained to the girl, then set off. They didn't go into the clinic itself, but headed north and east through a set of massive stone doors and down a tunnel that was large enough for two horses to walk abreast or a cart to be pulled up and down. After a few moments walking they made a sharp left turn down another corridor and through another set of doors into a Commons area that more resembled a posh pub than a living room.

"Get comfortable." She instructed, and ducked into the kitchen area to wash off the blood. When she was done she poured hot water from the hearth pot into a tea kettle and add some tea to steep. Then she brought in a tray that held the kettle, mugs for the tea - no fancy cups - and assorted nut and sugar cookies from the kitchen.

"Someone baked today. Help yourselves." Kavala sounded pleased, and sat down the tray where everyone could partake of it.

[Mealla Stormsong]

Mealla let out the breath that she had not realised she’d been holding as soon as it became clear that they were going to leave the horse behind and go someplace else. The dizziness had yet to fade, and the thought of walking was not one that appealed to her, especially when she felt so faint, but anything was better than staying in the presence of so much blood... and other stuff. Guts, intestines, muscles, fat, tissues... ...Oh gods... ...Oh gods... It took all her strength not to bolt, and she remained close to Sama’el as she walked, still ready to reach out and grab him if necessary, though she pointedly did not look at him. She did not want him to see any weakness from her, and, even more so, she did want to see an acknowledgement of that weakness in his eyes. She was going to prove herself; prove that she was indeed worthy of a place in the Watch, and quailing - panicking - about a teeny, tiny bit of blood was not going to do that. She was Drykas, and so she would be brave. Strong. She would not see disappointment from him. Once in the room, though, she all but collapsed into one of the seats, her knees buckling, the strength driven from her. Her skin was still far too pale, and the dizziness and sickness continued to linger. She barely gave the surroundings so much as a glance as she focused on simply breathing; one breath in, and one breath out, in and out, in and out, in and out, slow and steady; calm. It was the only way that she was sure that she was not going to faint. Her gaze finally drifted to the tea and food, and she paled even more, her stomach twisting painfully as she recalled that the person who now offered them them had, quite literally, been covered in blood not a few moments before. Blood. Lots and lots of blood. All over her arms. And now... “I-I’m not hungry,” Mealla quickly stuttered, physically recoiling as her stomach threatened to empty. “I thank you for the offer – they look lovely. Delightful -, but I’m not... I’m not hungry. Yet. I’m sorry, I really am. Maybe another time.” She really did hate blood.

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

Sama'el was not particularly squeamish either. There had been a time, back when he was young, and any blood reminded him of the slaughter of the Sunsinger pavilion, but he was grown now. Betimes he performed minor surgeries on horses himself. Nothing so shocking as what they saw now, but he was not half the healer that Kavala was. When she asked, he shook his head no; it was not an emergency. But he did not sit Mealla down, knowing how stubborn she was. But he remained close, ready to catch her if her knees failed her. She was of the Diamond Clan; it was strange to see one of her lineage so affected by this, but then she probably imagined the elegance of a sword strike rather than being elbows deep in a horse's guts, trying to fix things. He didn't know the cat-eyed girl, but he didn't let her disdain bother him. This was Kavala's place, and he was Kavala's friend. But while she worked, his eyebrows came down and he leaned in to whisper to Ronan: "You are going to have to try to get her to ease up. She won't listen to me, but she looks exhausted." Later, when she was finished and leading them along, he stayed close to Mealla, not wanting to make her feel weak, but wanting to be ready in case weakness overcame her. She dropped down while Kavala went to clean herself off, and he leaned against the wall. He offered Mealla a smile, but wasn't sure she was even looking at him. At Kavala's hospitality, he laughingly scoffed, "You want us to be fat, city-dwellers, eh?" But that didn't stop him from taking a cookie and offering her a florid bow that was an attempt at Syliran courtesy. "Thank you, Kavala, for your generosity. This is Mealla Stormsong, my apprentice. You know Ronan, my other apprentice. He's a Sunsinger now, too." It was the first time he had said his name to her, and he realized that suddenly with a strange smile. "I am Sama'el Sunsinger."

[Ronan]

When Sam whispered to him, he smiled faintly and nodded. He sat beside her for a bit, as she gathered her breath, and held back the vomit. Clearly, blood was not her thing. In the end, they managed to coax her to get up - but it wasn't until Kavala had finished her gory duties. "Speak for yourself," he said to Sam, before adding, "Fatty. All the same, he took a sugar cookie. It had been a long and hungry ride, with only meagre supplies in the interim. It was selfish, but he was looking forward to the home cooking in Sanctuary. It seemed odd when Sama'el half introduced him to Kavala. He caught her look, smiling. He knew her well enough - yet on the other hand, what could he truly know. He remembered Nysel's Temple, and Kavala's very different form. A myriad of lives and experiences, brought incarnate. The Sunsinger name was spoken proudly. Ronan nodded firmly, agreeing with his brother. A warmth fluttered inside of him. He was part of a family, and that simple joy would never fade. "How have you been, Kavala?" he finally asked, brushing the morsels of the biscuit from his shirt.