[Gilia Medical Center] Scarred by Morning (Natalia)

by **Hirem** on May 29th, 2014, 9:01 am

76th of Spring, 514 AV

He really should have seen this coming.

The wound had already been cared for by a competent healer - the caravan head's wife, Anisa, had proven a genius with natural herbs and salves - but the tsana's jaws had cut deep, and Hirem hadn't been paying the injury the respect it deserved. Though it had been cleaned, stitched up, and had spent most of the journey to Riverfall bound up in a sling, the arm still proved surprisingly tender, as evidenced by his earlier misadventures trying to practice combat at the Tuvya Sasaran. If Hirem had been wiser, he would have thought to have spent his time resting, keeping the arm relaxed and allowing his body to do the bulk of the healing for him. But instead a fool's passion for activity had over-ridden his better judgement, inspiring him to bloody himself against trained Akalak fighters. Not only that, but he was also consumed with a burning desire to rebuild himself, to rework his body until it was once more bursting with strength.

In the end, it was a simple exercise that laid Hirem low. It was a move that he had practised a dozen times before; he kept one leg straight while bending his opposite knee, lifting one arm as far as he could over his head and stretching it to its full extent. He expected some pain, of course, some groaning aches that would only worsen as he maintained the stretch... what he got instead was a searing flash of white-hot agony that raced up the length of his forearm and made him gasp out. Quickly dropping the pose and glancing over at his pained arm, Hirem's eyes bulged when he saw the fresh blood that was seeping from his re-opened wound, the stitches torn asunder and fraying haphazardly in every direction.

"Hik," he growled, firmly clamping his uninjured hand over the wound and pressing down as hard as he could. The most important thing I can do now is to stop the bleeding and... well, find a professional. Glancing around his sparsely furnished room - Atri's Place offered rooms that could be generously described as "snug", and Hirem hadn't owned much to begin with - his eyes settled upon the scroll of welcome the local guards had gifted him when he first arrived. Hurrying over, the Benshiran unrolled the scroll and laid it out on his small desk, straining to read the Common by faint candlelight. He found the task difficult, thanks to how distracting the brief flashes of pain radiating from his arm were becoming, but eventually he managed to find a place that looked suitable: Gilia Medical Center. Medi-cal? That is the Common word for healing, correct? Luckily for him, the Medical Center was only located a few streets away from Atri's Place... unfortunately, he had to take a jaunt across the Bluevein to reach it. By the holy word of Yahal, one day I will be able to walk across a bridge fearlessly... but today is not that day.

Before he left his apartment, Hirem approached the bundle of clothes he kept piled up in the corner of his room and, reaching down, withdrew his discarded head wrap from the pile. The fabric was matted with sweat and creased a thousand times over, one of his souvenirs from his endless desert wanderings... but, in this land of grass and water and brilliant sky, head wraps were unnecessary. He tied the cloth as best as he could around the worst of his bleeding with one arm, biting down hard on one of the straps to close the knot. He was no expert at this, but hopefully the binding would serve until a more permanent solution could be reached. The next task was for him to remove as much of the thread, yet embedded in his flesh, as possible... this he accomplished in the dim light of a solitary candle.

When he finally made it out of the tavern, Syna had long disappeared from the sky, bathing the city in a muted darkness. Only a few Akalak guards patrolled the streets now, as well as a few more unsavoury characters... determined to avoid them, Hirem hurried to the distant Gilia Medical Center. Though his mind was racing with the possibilities of what might transpire with his wound - Have I already exposed it to infection? What if this prevents me from doing work for the next season? I won't survive the Summer! - he was also intrigued by the prospect of visiting a Medical Center. Is it similar to the House of Mercy in Yahebah? I wonder if Wysar has seen fit to tend to the sick and dying, as Yahal has?

Entering the Medical Center in a rush, Hirem quickly approached the front desk, unaware that he was startling the night shift of guards quite a bit. Before they could apprehend him and confiscate any weapons he might bear, the Benshiran was already speaking to the receptionist. "I'd like to see a healer."

As Hirem was inspected by the two guardsmen, the receptionist peered over his desk to get a glance at the still-bleeding wound. "Understood, sir. I'll get you a room right away." With a few quick scratches into the parchment set on his desk - the wonders of bureaucracy!, the Benshiran thought - the receptionist arranged both a room and professional care for Hirem. "This way please," he said, getting up from his chair and indicating that the injured man should follow him. The guards were apparently pleased by his lack of weapons, allowing him to dog the receptionist deeper into the building.

After a half-chime of walking past hospital rooms that were filled with the dead, dying, and slightly bruised, the receptionist finally escorted Hirem straight to the door of his treatment room. "Someone should be along shortly," he announced, smiling pleasantly at the patient before ushering him inside. "In the meantime, I recommend redoing the tie on your arm... it's coming undone."

Grateful, Hirem nodded and smiled back at his caretaker. "I will... Av-berkaven."

"Sure!" the receptionist replied, clearly confused about Hirem's use of Shiber. Bowing graciously to the man, the receptionist then departed swiftly down the hallway, leaving the Benshiran alone to retie his knot... and struggle with it miserably.

by **Natalia** on May 29th, 2014, 9:45 pm

Natalia arrived at the Medical Center just a couple chimes after the Syna had made her daily rest. It had been a fairly quiet evening on the second floor of the Gilia, no familiar sounds of moaning and groaning from mothers in labor. All of them were either sound asleep, or nursing their babies. It hadn't been like this in who knows how long, but it was much deserved for all of the night staff. You could see the wear and tear of pulling twelve hour shifts five days straight. They could finally catch up with some parchementwork, and actually sit down for once in six hours. Natalia was at a table with one of the other nurses, relaxing.

"This is nice, isn't it?" Natalia asked while she sipped on a small cup of water.

"You can't even imagine," he coworker answered, rubbing her temples. She had been working three times longer than Natalia, being in since Syna rised. "I leave in a couple chimes, thank the Gods. I've been running myself on empty for days."

It takes a certain kind of person to work in the medical field, and Natalia thought the Gilia did an excellent job of picking out the right ones. Even though these women were exhausted and felt like they couldn't go on any longer, they picked themselves up and continued going. Natalia would be working until the early morning, but it's like she didn't even mind. When you love your job so much, it was a little easier to see the bright side of things. Well... not always.

Both of the woman turned their heads at the sound of footsteps coming up the staircase. Her coworker stood up and slung a bag over her shoulder, thinking her reliever was already here. She was quickly sat back down and huffed in her spot when a man appeared in the doorway. Men never worked upstairs, let alone even stepped a foot there.

"Can we help you with something?" the other nurse said, mustering up all the politeness she had left, which wasn't much.

"Yes. We need another nurse down here on first floor. It's getting a little crazy." he said, looking back and forth at the two. The nurse sighed and went to get up, but Natalia quickly popped up from her seat.

"It's alright. I'll go." she said, smoothing over her dress and taking one last glance at her coworker. The woman mouthed a quiet "thank you," and sunk back into her chair, tuckered out. It seemed only fair that Natalia would take this one. She smiled and followed the man back down the stairs.

He began recapping her as they descended. "We weren't expecting this many people to come in tonight. We didn't schedule enough people downstairs, and nobody is on call. It's... I..." he stopped talking for a tick, clearly flustered. "We were just unprepared. Sorry we had to do this. It was just the only option."

"It's fine. I understand." Natalia quipped in between his spurts. They finally had reached the bottom of the stairs, and she could now clarify why they needed the help. Staff were running around with equipment in their hands, dropping things off and then stopping at another room to treat patients. They were spreading themselves as thin as possible in the smallest amount of time. Wow... she thought. I've never seen the Center this busy at night.

"Alright, so firstly there is a man in Room 104 with a gaping wound on his arm. It doesn't look too serious, but you should check for infection and definitely irrigate the wound no matter what. He had a grimy looking piece of clothing he used as a self-made tourniquet. He's been in there for about five minutes, so the bleeding has most likely slowed, but I'd take the cloth off as soon as possible. We haven't talked to him much, so you'll have to decide the course of action after that. Good luck!" he said all in a rush, then taking off in a different direction.

Natalia was used to stress, so she took it all in stride, trying to find Room 104. She finally found it, knocking on the door and then slowly entering. She spotted the man sitting upright on the bedside, fumbling with his arm. A smile immediately came to her lips, and she swept some of her stray hairs away from her face.

"Hello, sir. My name is Natalia and I'll be taking care of you tonight." She went over to a basin in the corner, getting her hands wet and drying them with a cloth. "By the look of things it seems like you got yourself into a little trouble! Let's see if we can't just fix it up for you."

She shut the door to provide privacy and walked over to him. "Let's take off the cloth for now to see what we're dealing with." she said, carefully and slowing taking it off so no clots that had already formed would be pulled out. She observed for a couple moments, eyeing the wound. It was red and meaty, but most of the blood had stopped flowing by now. The jagged skin looked ripped and torn like he had either cut himself with something blunt, or an animal bit him. She looked closer and saw the scar tissue around it, which took her for a turn.

"Well, it's not terribly bad. It can be fixed. But by the looks of it, this is a pre-existing injury, isn't it? You must've torn your stitches out. I guess we should irrigate the wound to make sure no infection sets in. Then we'll sew you up and get some salve for it. That sound good?"

by **Hirem** on May 30th, 2014, 2:06 am

He decided, after a long period of struggling, that it was the actual dexterity required to tie the knot that was so completely eluding him. No matter how many times he wrapped the cloth around his forearm, pulling on it until the skin blanched white, when he finally reached the step where he had to finish the knot, one unruly strap always fumbled from his grasp and rendered the whole effort wasted. He tried every knot that was ingrained into his memory, no matter how faintly ... but nothing seemed to work when he was attempting the task with just one hand, his mind constantly abuzz with pain. Something always slipped at the last second, his clumsy grasp opening at the wrong moment and undoing all of his work. Gods, he thought to himself, what I would have given to be named Malech the clever, not Hirem the strong... my own stupid, brutish fingers betray me!

Finally, after what seemed to be an eternity of failures, Hirem managed to tie a knot that was sturdy enough to hold fast . But he was too slow in reapplying pressure on the wound, noting with a dizzy head the way his arm glistened red in the candlelight. Spotting a fresh linen that was laying next to the bed, the Benshiran confiscated it and used the fabric to soak up what blood had been coating the length of his arm, watching grimly as the pristine white faded into a dull crimson. At least the bleeding has stopped, he thought, and just in time... if any more had been lost, I might not have been able to walk come the morning. Discarding the linen casually onto the ground, Hirem held onto his injured arm, sat quietly on the bedside, and listened to the chaos occurring just outside of his door.

They're understaffed, he realized as he heard the commotion in the halls. Doctors running this way and that, calling for new arrivals all the time... has something terrible happened tonight? Or, being a city of warriors, is this a common occurrence in Riverfall? Back in Yahebah, the resident House of Mercy had never been as bloated as the Gilia - the busiest Hirem had ever seen the House gotten was during a minor epidemic in his youth, and even then the congestion had been limited to a few dozen patients over the course of two days. The Gilia, like everything else in this amazing city, seemed to be practically exploding with life, so vibrant and busy and chaotic! Patients could die tonight, Hirem reflected, if they don't receive the proper care they need. Please, Yahal... see them to safety, or else lay their weary heads down in a place of peace.

Hirem's introspection was cut short when, for the sixth time, the knot on his arm suddenly flew apart. "Hik!" he growled, immediately trying to retie it again... just as his doctor entered the room.

When he heard the door open, the Benshiran shot his head up, hoping to catch a glimpse of what an Akalak healer might look like. Do they even believe in healing? Or is that a weakness that only cowards afford themselves? Disappointing him somewhat, what Hirem saw instead in that doorway was a charming young woman, whose first response upon seeing her patient was to smile. An immediate sense of relief suddenly welled up inside of him, as if his body had released all of its tension at the first sight of this healing woman. This must be a great physician, he immediately decided, if my first reaction upon seeing her is to be comforted. Why is she here, I wonder, and not attending to others that require her aid more desperately?

Unfortunately, Hirem could not bring himself to offer the praise his savior deserved. Being as taken aback as he usually was with pretty women, he could only meekly bow his head and smile back at her. "Falim, Natalia... yes, let's see if we can fix the problem." It would be heavily obvious from his thick accent that he was new to Riverfall.

Accepting her presence gratefully, Hirem grit his teeth and did his best to stay still as she removed the hand-fashioned tourniquet from his quivering flesh. The wound was so aggravated by the many disturbances that had troubled it this evening, that even the barest touch ignited a conflagration along the length of his forearm. Keeping his jaws firmly clamped together, the Benshiran did not shy away from staring at his open injury - he had received much worse than this in the past, the highlight being an arrow wound from his escape of Ahnatep. Compared to the deadly infection that had left him a shivering, quaking mess in the Burning Lands, this minor injury was nothing.

Didn't stop it from hurting like one of Krysus' ill tempers.

He was gladdened by the news that it could be fixed, and nodded to confirm her suspicions. "Yes, this was an injury I got earlier in the season," he explained, trying to maintain a pleasant demeanor. He stopped every few seconds to deliver another hiss of "Hik!" under his breath, but otherwise kept a straight face. "It was a tsana bite, actually, so..." Realizing that she likely had no reference for the dreaded tsana, he propped his free hand up and clasped his fingers together. "Big jaws. I ended up breaking the stitching after a few stretches... my foolishness." The Benshiran had little understanding of what his healer spoke of - Irrigate? Is that some Common phrase everyone understands? - but he trusted his doctor enough to care little about his own confusion. "Yes, what you are planning to do sounds very good."

"I am Hirem, by the way," he added, bowing his head respectfully to her. "Hirem, from the tents of Alachi, of the sons of Rapa... may the blessings of Yahal be upon you. If there is anything I can do to help, let me know."

by **Natalia** on June 1st, 2014, 8:37 am

At his accent, Natalia became more interested in the man and his stories, and even more so when he used strange terminology to describe his bite. He obviously wasn't from here, but somewhere foreign to Riverfall. She wondered how far away it was and what it looked like. Jungle, desert, or perhaps grasslands? Judging by his grisly skin, he lived where there was a lot of sun. She was a sucker for stories and deciphering her patients. The people where what made her job so enjoyable.

When he grit his teeth, she apologized, really feeling sorry for the man. No matter how many times she made someone hurt, she never got used to it and always felt bad during the process. Watching others treat patients, she realized that it helped when you talked to your patients and kept them busy. It helped them not dwell on the fact that they were injured and they wouldn't think about it so much. Natalia though this tactic would be appropriate now. She'd dealt with worse, but that didn't mean the pain was any less important.

"It's nice to meet you, Hirem from the tents of Alachi, of the sons of Rapa. Mind if I just call you Hirem?" she asked with a playful smile, trying to recite what he had said. She probably mispronounced the words with her terrible Common accent, but tried her best. "I don't need any help quiet yet, but maybe you could start by telling me what a tsana is? And Yahal? I've never heard of either one, and I'm quite intrigued."

She left his bedside for a moment, getting what she needed from cabinets and setting it on a table next to the bed. What she gathered was basic: a basin, sterile saline water, a bulb syringe, a numbing salve, tulja poultice (pain reliever and antibiotic), sutures, forceps and scissors.

"Alright, first we're going to start by cleaning the wound. This actually shouldn't hurt much, so just relax. I'm going to put this basin underneath your injured arm now to catch the water, okay?" she said, doing just what she said. She moved away once again to get the irrigation ready and wash her hands once more before starting. She opened the sealed jar of saline water and filled the bulb syringe with the contents. She then began squeezing the water into the open wound with very soft pressure, careful to not make a big mess. She did this back and forth only a couple of times before stopping. "Everything okay?" she asked before proceeding again. She tried to make things as comfortable as possible, keeping the communication flowing.

"This salve is not going to make it feel completely better, but it should help by numbing the skin around your wound so the stitches won't hurt so much. So... still be prepared."she said seriously, looking at him with concern. She applied the numbing agent to the skin with precision to make sure she didn't get it in the wound. After, she wiped her hands off with a towel. While preparing the sutures, she spoke again. "Promise me that you won't let this happen again. Or next time it won't be so repairable."

She had done sutures plenty of times, so the shakes that came with nervousness were gone. She had a steady hand when it came to simplistic tasks as this. She now was ready to start. "It helps if you don't look at it," she offered.

Starting the needle at a 90 degree angle in the middle of the wound, she entered the skin, turning her wrist until it came through on the other side. She started the knots and did this many other times until the wound was closed. It was quite large, but she tried to go as fast as possible to save him some grief. She wiped any access blood away and looked at her work. She nodded her head in approval, setting down the equipment.

"All stitched up! Wait here while I get gauze to cover it."

by **Hirem** on June 2nd, 2014, 12:50 am

She... she had to be kidding, right?

Hirem started at her admission that she didn't understand what a tsana was, and, more importantly, that she didn't know who Yahal was. His eyes widened and his jaw tilted open, his mind grasping for answers. For a native of Eyktol, where faith in Yahal helped save lives and guided his entire people, the idea that someone was unaware of the god of purity was far-fetched. He was not so short-sighted to believe that his faith was the most important in the entire world - the Akalaks of this city revered Wysar and Akajia just as fiercely as he worshipped Yahal - but the idea that someone could live and not know who Yahal was at all perplexed him. Benshirans aren't the only ones who place stock in my god... Syliran knights are also supposed to revere him. Who is this woman, that she has not heard of Yahal from either group? Has she never faced a situation where she must call out to him and hope for her faith to be rewarded?

Unfortunately, though words were already flying into his mind that could explain who this god was and why he meant so much to Hirem, the Benshiran was distracted by his healer's announcement that she was going to start cleaning his wound. Understanding that this was, by far, the more important task, Hirem instead offered her a quick nod of approval and helped her set his arm atop the basin. He watched her prepare the syringe with great interest, attentively paying heed to every small detail. If I continue to live in this city of warriors, being able to suture my own arm would become a great relief. Though the arm stung with every drop of water that fell onto the wound, it was easy enough for the man to grit his teeth and suffer through it. He had already endured a lot of pain this evening, so sitting through a few more agonizing seconds to try and sooth his hurt was no price at all to pay. "Everything is good, yes." Hirem would reply when asked, giving her a broad smile to assure her that he was dealing with the treatment comfortably.

As she was preparing the sutures, Hirem continued to stare at his wounded arm, watching the blood wash away with her application of water, feeling the numbing solution already beginning to sap sensation from his flesh, testing the way his muscles twitched down the length of his skin. I was in the desert, searching for answers, and Yahal led me to a cave occupied by a blood-crazed tsana. He gave me purpose... but at the cost of wounding this arm, perhaps permanently. Was this his will, or my own stupid fault? ... I wonder what Natalia will think of my god, when I tell her that this was his doing. Realizing that she was asking him a question, he shot his head up and stared at her, stared at her practised fingers preparing the needles. "I will... try to prevent the wound from opening," he began, struggling to say the words I promise. He could not go the easy route and say that he would promise, only to break it again later... such a thing would be an affront to Yahal. "It is hard to look at the Akalaks, always struggling to improve themselves, and bide my time instead of joining them... I have a great desire to change who I am, and I may not be able to wait for this to heal." Shaking his head and sighing, he continued with a quick, "I will try for your sake, though."

And now came the greatest test of them all: the actual suturing process. Whether it was traditional masculine bravado, or pigheaded stubbornness, or a built-up resistance to disgust, or some combination of the three, Hirem found himself saying, "I do not mind looking at it." And, true to his word, he kept his eyes trained on the wound as the needle pierced his skin, feeling only a mild sense of revulsion at the sight. After surviving Hai, it's hard to become disgusted by something as simple as being stitched up. He felt a greater sense of curiosity than aversion, trying to figure out the correct method of suturing a wound... in case he ever found himself in need of the process again. It's not something as simple as making a carving or building a home... every step must be made in regards to the patient and their needs. This Natalia... her hands are steady and her course swift. She must have done this plenty of times by now. I am truly lucky to receive such a healer as this.

Once the suturing process was finished, Hirem made sure to treat the arm tenderly, and avoid moving it too much lest Natalia's good work be undone. It seemed a secure enough binding, satisfactory enough for the woman - thus making it satisfactory enough for Hirem. The Benshiran nodded politely as she made to leave for the gauze... but felt something in his heart compelling him to speak. "Natalia," he began, hoping to draw her attention to him. Ignoring the prickling sensation in his arm, Hirem looked to her and smiled softly, trying to make his voice sound comforting. "It pains me that you do not understand who Yahal is... to me, he is my father and my guide, my protector and my brother. He guides my way and makes sense of the darkness in the world. To you, however, I ask only a question:" and here he shifted up on the bedside, coming closer to her, staring into the woman's eyes intently.

"Have you ever been so confused about your life that it pains your heart to admit that you are lost?" A sad note filled his voice, as he couldn't help but remember his own useless wanderings of days past. "Have you ever looked up at the heavens and wondered why they would be so cruel to spit on you, in particular? If so..." Closing his eyes, Hirem bowed his head and spoke solemnly. "If so, then know that you were never alone during these dark times. A god of faith was watching you, drawing your path in the dust ahead, bringing you to where you belong." With that, the Benshiran eased away, letting the woman proceed with her duties... and hopefully leaving her with some thoughts to consider.

Word Count :

by **Natalia** on June 2nd, 2014, 8:39 am

Before going to get the gauze, Natalia made a quick stop at the sink basin to wash her hands yet again. Dark blood covered the tips of her fingers, getting underneath her nails. Thank Syna she did not make me sensitive to blood, or... anything in that matter. As she thought about what she just did, she knew it would be a different story for others. They could not even fathom of the thought of blood. That's how she knew she was in the right place, exactly where Syna wanted her.

She went to the cabinet and grabbed the gauze, along with medical tape.

"Natalia," she heard behind her in a voice tone that was different than what he'd been speaking in previously. Almost... intimate. She turned slowly, equipment in her arms, and her heart beating a little more rapidly than usual. This man had something to say, and it sounded serious. She herself said no words, but looked at him expectantly.

"It pains me that you do not understand who Yahal is... to me, he is my father and my guide, my protector and my brother. He guides my way and makes sense of the darkness in the world. To you, however, I ask only a question:"

Her face crumpled in concern as she listen intently.

"Have you ever been so confused about your life that it pains your heart to admit that you are lost? Have you ever looked up at the heavens and wondered why they would be so cruel to spit on you, in particular? If so... If so, then know that you were never alone during these dark times. A god of faith was watching you, drawing your path in the dust ahead, bringing you to where you belong."

Natalia identified with the man, even more so than he could ever imagine. When he spoke his words, a pain erupted in her heart at the memories. She had never expressed these feelings, or even spoken them aloud for that matter. She stopped what she was doing and stood in the silence for moments that seemed like a lifetime. She couldn't indulge herself in these feelings now, and she didn't want to. She couldn't sulk into herself once again to question everything that she knew. He had no idea, and would have a hard time comprehending her situation even if it hit him in the face. She decided then that she couldn't discuss this with Hirem. At least, not at this time. Although, she did have one thing to get off of her chest now.

"More like spit out me," she mumbled under her breath, moving slowly once more to finish her duties. She did them in silence, applying the tulja poultice directly on top of the stitches, and placing the gauze on top of it. As she went along, she didn't know how to break the quiet. Perhaps pretending like it didn't even happen was for the best. That seemed to be her only option anyways.

She didn't look him in the eye anymore as she cleaned up her messes. Following procedure, she finally spoke up.

"You'll need to take the gauze of in the next 48 hours and come in in 8 days to see if your stitches can be removed. For now I'm going to request that you stay here overnight in case infection sets in. You'll more than likely be released by morning." she said, her voice flat.

Soon he would know what was really going on and why those words effected her so much. Soon, but not yet. Morning would come and he would see.

She was finished cleaning up. Fresh linens were on the bed for him to sleep in, and an aide would be there throughout the night to check on him. For now she swiftly made her way towards the door, turned around for one last time this night, and softly said, "Goodnight." before closing the door to entrap Hirem in darkness.

by **Hirem** on June 2nd, 2014, 7:47 pm

He could see, as clear as day, that his words had an impact upon Natalia... but the actual meaning of the impact eluded him. The shadows in the room played across her face and cast it into darkness, rendering her expression mute to the anxious Benshiran. All that he could hear was the significant period of silence that followed his question, a silence that could not just occur naturally. Something was happening in Natalia's heart, of that he was sure. Is she confused? Angry? Regretful? His own pulse quickening, Hirem began to wonder if he had misspoke in so directly offering Yahal's aid to the healer. She did not ask for my advice, and she certainly did not act like she needed it. Have I only perplexed and mystified a poor woman that was only trying to help me? Or, worse yet, have I summoned painful memories from their shallow graves to freshly torment her?

I must be still, he reminded himself, taking a deep breath to fill the void that had overcome the room. I must not doubt my own words, or else my preaching will sound false, without fail. I must believe in my heart that what I am saying is the truth, and I must believe that it needs to be heard... by having faith in Yahal, I can cross any divide and reach out to the lost and confused. He reached up and brushed his uninjured hand across his brow, casting his gaze to the ground and giving Natalia some peace. Under his breath, the man quietly admonished himself. She didn't strike me as lost and confused. Indeed, she seemed more certain of her being in this hospital room than I am certain of being in Riverfall. What kind of man am I, to presume that she was desperate for Yahal's grace? And yet... and yet she seems nonetheless struck by what I've told her. Is this a sign that, even by fumbling in the dark to help, I am doing my god's work?

He could not say for sure, one way or another. Yahal, you are my teacher and my father... but sometimes I wish I wasn't so invested in your glory. You do make things complicated.

Kidding, of course.

Understanding that he had intensified the atmosphere in the room, Hirem stayed respectfully quiet as Natalia finished her work on his wound. The poultice that she applied to the injury did not sting half so much as those first droplets of water, and by the time the gauze was applied, the Benshiran's arm had become fully numb and ignorant to pain. He bid his time by staring at the far wall and trying to imagine what Natalia must be thinking, trying to place himself into the shoes of a woman he had just met. What might she be uncertain of, I wonder? Her skill with the healing arts is undeniable, so that cannot be the answer. I see no Cheva mark upon her flesh, so she is unmarried... is she lonely, and searching for comfort? He doubted that explanation; the healer seemed entirely self-assured and didn't appear to him as a woman that lusted for companionship. Something in her past must be the answer... something that still troubles her to this day. But that is hardly a unique feeling to have.

Despairing of finding answers with what scant detail he had, Hirem instead contented himself with being Natalia's dutiful patient, obeying her requests to the letter. "I understand," he nodded, pleased with the idea of spending the night at the Gilia - his bones were weary and his back ached with soreness. Sleeping at the hospital would be preferred to making the trek back to Atri's Place. And his arm promised to be respectful and quiet for the rest of the evening, its endless pangs already subsiding in favor of a heavy dullness. The idea of being able to remove the stitches within the next eight days also appeased him, as such an event would mean that his arm was getting closer and closer to a full recovery... he was eager to remove the last trace of the dreaded tsana from his flesh.

And, just like that, Natalia was leaving, heading for the door with an urgent sense of pace. Hirem did not move to interrupt her again, instead waiting at the bedside and smiling softly towards her. At her quiet, almost whispered, "Goodnight," the Benshiran bowed his head and closed his eyes. "Mahim," he responded, offering her farewell in Shiber.

As soon as the door was firmly closed, Hirem let out a shuddering breath and shook his head, reaching up with two fingers and pinching at the bridge of his nose. "Hik," he murmured to himself, looking wearily towards the ceiling. That could have gone better. Feeling that the night's events had left a strange, heavy burden upon his heart, Hirem took off his sandals, disrobed, left his clothes in a stinking pile, and lay naked on the bed. Drawing the sheets onto him - by Yahal, the feeling of actual linen against his bare skin was glorious! - the Benshiran stared up at the roof and closed his eyes. I wonder if Natalia will check up on me in the morning, he thought, struggling to come up with the consolation he would offer her if that should come to pass.

But that was a thought for another time. Hirem was tired, and the bed underneath him was soft. Within a chime, he had fallen soundly asleep, too exhausted to even offer a short prayer to Yahal.

And, amazingly, he slept a dreamless sleep.

- - -

77th of Spring, 514 AV

Syna found Hirem in an early state of wakefulness, his sleep quickly disturbed by the first fluttering of light in the horizon. Strangely, he was not bothered by his sudden awakening, but instead felt refreshed, energized, and ready to leave the hospital. His eyes were drawn to the nearby window, his gaze enraptured by the lovely view of Riverfall and the Suvan that the Gilia afforded. Outside, dawn had just passed, and the full glory of the morning was about to overtake the city washed in grey. This is an excellent hour to wake, he remarked to himself. Perhaps I should arise more early in the day, and go for runs on the beach? I imagine that I'd benefit greatly from the exercise... and the tranquility of this hour is hard to match.

He rested comfortably on the bed, his back propped against the wall and the sheets draped around his midriff. His arm, in contrast to the great pain it had suffered last night, was sleeping peacefully at his side. All I need now is one last visit from the staff, and I will be ready to leave... hopefully, it will be Natalia. I would like a second chance to explain myself to her.

Word Count :

by **Alyra** on August 16th, 2014, 9:23 pm

Hirem :

Natalia :

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