||78th Day of Spring, 512AV || The Healers Lodge, army barracks ||
It was not uncommon for Ayatah to get a message from her military superiors calling her on patrol or guard. Sometimes, they summoned for her to train the newcomers, and other times, to be trained herself. So when the plump pigeon arrived at the Scattered Bones’ home with a tiny rolled up parchment attached to its feet, Ayatah knew what to expect.
But when she arrived at the army barracks some two bells later, however, Ayatah was told that she would not be patrolling, training or guarding.
”Saiete is overwhelmed at the healer’s lodge. Liv is off - that baby is like to drop out of her any day now. And Tuck is there, but on the wrong end of business.”
Ikeena was very often the leader of Ayatah’s fang, and the older woman tended to be the half-breed’s first port of call when summoned. The two of them got on as well as Ayatah did with any of her superiors; she did not appreciate the casual digs at her heritage, but Ikeena was by far one of the more pleasant individuals.
”I am no healer. Not at all.” She frowned, striding after the other woman. Ayatah was aware of the very basics of medicine; don’t get a cut dirty, elevate the wound… but when it came to dealing with more grievous injuries, she was hopeless. ”There must be someone more suitable.”
Ikeena threw the half-Eypharian a look that told her otherwise. ”After what happened earlier this season, we are lucky that not more of us have died. We are all spread too thinly: we’ve had to call on recruits like yourself more often, and even send the new arrivals out on patrols, just to make up the numbers.”
Ayatah’s jaw clenched, and she nodded to acknowledge the truth in Ikeena’s words.
Their people had been hit hard by the djed storm, and practically everyone knew, or was related to, someone who had been personally affected. In Ayatah’s case, she had been present when the storm reached the entrance to Zinrah. One moment, she was standing amongst her comrades, and the next --
She swallowed hard, dislodging the lump that had formed in her throat. So many of her fellow recruits - not friends, not by far - but acquaintances. Some of them had been bastards to her in the past, but they didn’t deserve whatever the hell had happened to them. Since that fateful day, the Myrians had still not managed gain control over the jungle. Plant life grew at an alarming rate; the very first thing her people did was set about hacking away at the trees and shrubs that had claimed the 200 foot clearing around the city walls. An entire day was spent knocking down the foliage. But when those same people rose the following morning, they were horrified to see that the jungle had simply claimed back that land, as if a decade had past and not just one night.
”With the animals, the Dhani and even the damn jungle itself turning on us, we need all the hands we can get,” Ikeena pushed aside the leather skins that served as the door to the healer’s lodge.
The scene inside was something close to a nightmare. Bewildered recruits - Ayatah recognised one as a newcomer that had joined just a season ago - dashed between the wounded, who lay on straw and skin beds. There were groans all around her, and at the far side of the room, a man was screaming for mercy.
An old, heavyset woman strode down the centre of the beds. ”Ikeena. Is this the girl?” Saiete had been the military healer for… Myri only knew how long. Although she was not old by Myrian standards (a mere 70 years), she could not serve the injured or sick as quickly as she had done in her youth. So, Ikeena had taken on two apprentices, Liv and Tuck. The former had joined Ikeena some ten years ago, and the latter had been in her service or a mere two. But between the three of them, the healers were able to manage the steady come and go of injured recruits.
Until the storm, that is. From the way the wounded and sick were lined in tight rows, Ayatah guessed that they had never had to deal with such great numbers before. This room had never seen so many in need before. And at a time that one healer is heavily pregnant, and the other is -
Dying. Tuck lay in the bed closest to the entrance, his skin filmed with a thin layer of sweat, and yet he was shivering. His eyes were closed, but had they been open, Ayatah would have seen that they were cloudy and dim. He had volunteered to help clear the jungle and rediscover the pathways that his people had followed for hundreds of years. But the jungle - as Ikeena had rightly said - seemed to turn on the Myrians, and Tuck stepped onto a toxic plant. Usually, it did not harm their people, but now… It did.
”Saiete.” Ayatah dipped her head respectfully to the older woman. Her knowledge of healing and medicines was famous throughout Taloba; she had always been a quick learner for medicine, even when a girl. Whereas most Myrian children were obsessed with training and weapons, Saiete had been fascinated with the body, and it’s ability to recover from trauma, infection and poison. ”I am afraid I am no healer.”
Saiete signalled for her to follow all the same, and Ayatah obliged. The larger woman scoffed and waved her hand dismissively, ”I know that, girl. The clans are keeping their own healers close by - not that I blame them. If their sick weren’t at their homes, they’d be here. But you are Eypharian, yes? I’ve heard you can read well, and enjoy learning.” She had lead Ayatah to the other side of the lodge, and she nodded towards a bed in which the screaming man lay in. ”Well, now is your chance to learn.”
But when she arrived at the army barracks some two bells later, however, Ayatah was told that she would not be patrolling, training or guarding.
”Saiete is overwhelmed at the healer’s lodge. Liv is off - that baby is like to drop out of her any day now. And Tuck is there, but on the wrong end of business.”
Ikeena was very often the leader of Ayatah’s fang, and the older woman tended to be the half-breed’s first port of call when summoned. The two of them got on as well as Ayatah did with any of her superiors; she did not appreciate the casual digs at her heritage, but Ikeena was by far one of the more pleasant individuals.
”I am no healer. Not at all.” She frowned, striding after the other woman. Ayatah was aware of the very basics of medicine; don’t get a cut dirty, elevate the wound… but when it came to dealing with more grievous injuries, she was hopeless. ”There must be someone more suitable.”
Ikeena threw the half-Eypharian a look that told her otherwise. ”After what happened earlier this season, we are lucky that not more of us have died. We are all spread too thinly: we’ve had to call on recruits like yourself more often, and even send the new arrivals out on patrols, just to make up the numbers.”
Ayatah’s jaw clenched, and she nodded to acknowledge the truth in Ikeena’s words.
Their people had been hit hard by the djed storm, and practically everyone knew, or was related to, someone who had been personally affected. In Ayatah’s case, she had been present when the storm reached the entrance to Zinrah. One moment, she was standing amongst her comrades, and the next --
She swallowed hard, dislodging the lump that had formed in her throat. So many of her fellow recruits - not friends, not by far - but acquaintances. Some of them had been bastards to her in the past, but they didn’t deserve whatever the hell had happened to them. Since that fateful day, the Myrians had still not managed gain control over the jungle. Plant life grew at an alarming rate; the very first thing her people did was set about hacking away at the trees and shrubs that had claimed the 200 foot clearing around the city walls. An entire day was spent knocking down the foliage. But when those same people rose the following morning, they were horrified to see that the jungle had simply claimed back that land, as if a decade had past and not just one night.
”With the animals, the Dhani and even the damn jungle itself turning on us, we need all the hands we can get,” Ikeena pushed aside the leather skins that served as the door to the healer’s lodge.
The scene inside was something close to a nightmare. Bewildered recruits - Ayatah recognised one as a newcomer that had joined just a season ago - dashed between the wounded, who lay on straw and skin beds. There were groans all around her, and at the far side of the room, a man was screaming for mercy.
An old, heavyset woman strode down the centre of the beds. ”Ikeena. Is this the girl?” Saiete had been the military healer for… Myri only knew how long. Although she was not old by Myrian standards (a mere 70 years), she could not serve the injured or sick as quickly as she had done in her youth. So, Ikeena had taken on two apprentices, Liv and Tuck. The former had joined Ikeena some ten years ago, and the latter had been in her service or a mere two. But between the three of them, the healers were able to manage the steady come and go of injured recruits.
Until the storm, that is. From the way the wounded and sick were lined in tight rows, Ayatah guessed that they had never had to deal with such great numbers before. This room had never seen so many in need before. And at a time that one healer is heavily pregnant, and the other is -
Dying. Tuck lay in the bed closest to the entrance, his skin filmed with a thin layer of sweat, and yet he was shivering. His eyes were closed, but had they been open, Ayatah would have seen that they were cloudy and dim. He had volunteered to help clear the jungle and rediscover the pathways that his people had followed for hundreds of years. But the jungle - as Ikeena had rightly said - seemed to turn on the Myrians, and Tuck stepped onto a toxic plant. Usually, it did not harm their people, but now… It did.
”Saiete.” Ayatah dipped her head respectfully to the older woman. Her knowledge of healing and medicines was famous throughout Taloba; she had always been a quick learner for medicine, even when a girl. Whereas most Myrian children were obsessed with training and weapons, Saiete had been fascinated with the body, and it’s ability to recover from trauma, infection and poison. ”I am afraid I am no healer.”
Saiete signalled for her to follow all the same, and Ayatah obliged. The larger woman scoffed and waved her hand dismissively, ”I know that, girl. The clans are keeping their own healers close by - not that I blame them. If their sick weren’t at their homes, they’d be here. But you are Eypharian, yes? I’ve heard you can read well, and enjoy learning.” She had lead Ayatah to the other side of the lodge, and she nodded towards a bed in which the screaming man lay in. ”Well, now is your chance to learn.”
|| Ayatah's speech || Ayatah's thoughts || Others' speech ||
