- 79th of Fall, 518
Madeira was attracting a lot of attention from the nightlife of Sartu as she made her way to Zintila from The Den of the Lost. It had been a strange couple of days for her, and the adventure showed on every piece of skin she had left. She walked tall and dignified, wearing a simple linen shift that did little more than covering her modesty as it strained around her pregnant belly, her hair unbound and dark with grease and blood and loamy soil. Around her shoulders was an enormous, musty bear pelt cloak several times too big for her that trailed behind her dainty dancing slippers. On her back was a bunging leather rucksack that looked like it had been to Hai and back. In her hands was a large round textured stone that she cradled like a child.
But that was not what made the citizens of Lhavit's quietest peak jump out of her way as they saw her approach, and stare at her back long after she had passed. Blood darkened her simple shift and the wet fabric clung to the great trenchs of claw marks that mauled the right side of her body from shoulder to thigh. All the way around her throat and right wrist was a surgically straight slice that shone wet and red to the quivering tendons. Half restored flaps of flesh were open across her legs, as if the broken bone within had exploded out and were hastily repaired. The only part of her not cut and bruised were her head and right arm, but both were the tender, smooth pink of new skin. She should be dead, people thought. Many times dead. But not only did the wounds not seem life threatening, despite their grizzly appearance, the woman walked as if she hardly felt them.
Madeira held the stone tight in the crook of her arm, thanking Leth for his stray miracle star, and Dira for allowing it to exist. She should have died half a dozen times, but she always came back. The fight through the misty peaks showed her just how cruel nature was, and the fall from the skybridge that put her there showed her just how cruel people could be, too. Yet simply knowing first hand that it was true was gave her peace. She would never be caught unawares again. The lesson was brutal in its teaching, yet she learned something people stronger than herself have died before truly realizing.
As soon as the thought crossed her mind, she felt something in the unbreakable stone shift in her white-knuckle hold. Like a blackened log crumbling to ash, the stone started to flake away in pieces as the first light of dawn filtered over the mountains. Eventually, before Madeira's astonished eyes, the stone dissolved completely, and in her arms was a silvery substance that flickered with the same star fire that had followed her fallen star to earth the night she found it. As the
fire touched her bare skin she was blinded by a flash of bright light, and in her head a voice rang as clear and strong as a bell in the confused noise of her thoughts.
“As the rays of my beloved Syna reach across the horizon, I wish to give you this bit of insight. The changes you’ve experienced were not without a purpose. They were meant to serve as a source of reflection. Change is an important force that drives all life. How you dealt with the changes you were faced with; changes in body, mind and even in the minds of others, speaks greatly to who you are as a person. As you continue to live your life, take time to reflect on what you experienced and ponder your reactions to the change. Did you hide them or hide from them? Did you embrace them? Did you exploit them or use
them for the betterment of others? As you search for the deeper meaning of change and how you deal with it, know that I, Leth, God of Thought and Change have gifted you that opportunity. Also, as a gift and a reminder, I offer a piece of my light. The stone you discovered contains a piece of starfire. In your hands, it will undergo its own change. Take it with my blessing.”
The light vanished, and the voice was no more than an reverberating echo in her head as she blinked the blindness from her eyes. In her hands the silvery substance had reformed into a little silver skeleton key, cool and light to the touch, the bow made of pearls in the shape of a human skull.
Madeira didn't have time to examine it properly. As the light faded, and the people around her were blinking away their own blindness and peering around for the source of the mysterious light, her body started to draw down. The eternal high, proud set of her back caved inwards. Her hands, one still clutching the key, fluttered over her body as the miracle she was relying on faded away. Face twisted in a silent scream, every injury she had been numb to for four days made themselves known for the first time. Her skin was painted agony, her bones wept and her breath came hard and fast through a throat that could feel the air on both sides.
"No, no, Leth!" she wailed, begging the voice to come back and restore its miracle as Syna gilded the cobbles at her feet. “My lord, please!"
The god did not answer, but a man did. A young lad fresh from the port, his cart laden with wine caskets pulled by a pair of pastel Okomo. He helped the battered woman into the wagon, wedged between the wine, to carry her to the Catholicon on the next peak. Why was the healing facility so far away? As Madeira laid in the wagon, staring up at the stripe of lightening blue between the crates, she felt the baby kick in agitation. At least the wounds were not going to kill us, she reassured it as she rubbed circles into her belly. If they were they had the opportunity days ago.
Time gave her the opportunity to compose herself, and when the boy helped her down from his wagon, she thanked him genuinely with a voice almost like herself. Thick pearly tears were still caught in her eyelashes, but she grit her teeth against her more pathetic whimpering and walked up the winding narrow staircase and into the Catholicon as tall as she could manage.
The hospital was as opulent as anything in Lhavit, and impossibly old. A narrow hall opened into a cavernous reception hall topped all in pale marble, with a great winding staircase of glittering spyglass set in the middle of the floor. The walls were packed with jars and supplies right to the lofty ceiling, accessed by handsome oak ladders set in tracks on the walls. Madeira ignored all of it. Her eyes were firmly on the beautiful Eypharian behind a reception desk, who's six
hands whirling about with ink, letters, coins and a pot of tea.
The woman looked up as Madeira approached, and all her activities paused for half a tick before she called sharply for a doctor.
But that was not what made the citizens of Lhavit's quietest peak jump out of her way as they saw her approach, and stare at her back long after she had passed. Blood darkened her simple shift and the wet fabric clung to the great trenchs of claw marks that mauled the right side of her body from shoulder to thigh. All the way around her throat and right wrist was a surgically straight slice that shone wet and red to the quivering tendons. Half restored flaps of flesh were open across her legs, as if the broken bone within had exploded out and were hastily repaired. The only part of her not cut and bruised were her head and right arm, but both were the tender, smooth pink of new skin. She should be dead, people thought. Many times dead. But not only did the wounds not seem life threatening, despite their grizzly appearance, the woman walked as if she hardly felt them.
Madeira held the stone tight in the crook of her arm, thanking Leth for his stray miracle star, and Dira for allowing it to exist. She should have died half a dozen times, but she always came back. The fight through the misty peaks showed her just how cruel nature was, and the fall from the skybridge that put her there showed her just how cruel people could be, too. Yet simply knowing first hand that it was true was gave her peace. She would never be caught unawares again. The lesson was brutal in its teaching, yet she learned something people stronger than herself have died before truly realizing.
As soon as the thought crossed her mind, she felt something in the unbreakable stone shift in her white-knuckle hold. Like a blackened log crumbling to ash, the stone started to flake away in pieces as the first light of dawn filtered over the mountains. Eventually, before Madeira's astonished eyes, the stone dissolved completely, and in her arms was a silvery substance that flickered with the same star fire that had followed her fallen star to earth the night she found it. As the
fire touched her bare skin she was blinded by a flash of bright light, and in her head a voice rang as clear and strong as a bell in the confused noise of her thoughts.
“As the rays of my beloved Syna reach across the horizon, I wish to give you this bit of insight. The changes you’ve experienced were not without a purpose. They were meant to serve as a source of reflection. Change is an important force that drives all life. How you dealt with the changes you were faced with; changes in body, mind and even in the minds of others, speaks greatly to who you are as a person. As you continue to live your life, take time to reflect on what you experienced and ponder your reactions to the change. Did you hide them or hide from them? Did you embrace them? Did you exploit them or use
them for the betterment of others? As you search for the deeper meaning of change and how you deal with it, know that I, Leth, God of Thought and Change have gifted you that opportunity. Also, as a gift and a reminder, I offer a piece of my light. The stone you discovered contains a piece of starfire. In your hands, it will undergo its own change. Take it with my blessing.”
The light vanished, and the voice was no more than an reverberating echo in her head as she blinked the blindness from her eyes. In her hands the silvery substance had reformed into a little silver skeleton key, cool and light to the touch, the bow made of pearls in the shape of a human skull.
Madeira didn't have time to examine it properly. As the light faded, and the people around her were blinking away their own blindness and peering around for the source of the mysterious light, her body started to draw down. The eternal high, proud set of her back caved inwards. Her hands, one still clutching the key, fluttered over her body as the miracle she was relying on faded away. Face twisted in a silent scream, every injury she had been numb to for four days made themselves known for the first time. Her skin was painted agony, her bones wept and her breath came hard and fast through a throat that could feel the air on both sides.
"No, no, Leth!" she wailed, begging the voice to come back and restore its miracle as Syna gilded the cobbles at her feet. “My lord, please!"
The god did not answer, but a man did. A young lad fresh from the port, his cart laden with wine caskets pulled by a pair of pastel Okomo. He helped the battered woman into the wagon, wedged between the wine, to carry her to the Catholicon on the next peak. Why was the healing facility so far away? As Madeira laid in the wagon, staring up at the stripe of lightening blue between the crates, she felt the baby kick in agitation. At least the wounds were not going to kill us, she reassured it as she rubbed circles into her belly. If they were they had the opportunity days ago.
Time gave her the opportunity to compose herself, and when the boy helped her down from his wagon, she thanked him genuinely with a voice almost like herself. Thick pearly tears were still caught in her eyelashes, but she grit her teeth against her more pathetic whimpering and walked up the winding narrow staircase and into the Catholicon as tall as she could manage.
The hospital was as opulent as anything in Lhavit, and impossibly old. A narrow hall opened into a cavernous reception hall topped all in pale marble, with a great winding staircase of glittering spyglass set in the middle of the floor. The walls were packed with jars and supplies right to the lofty ceiling, accessed by handsome oak ladders set in tracks on the walls. Madeira ignored all of it. Her eyes were firmly on the beautiful Eypharian behind a reception desk, who's six
hands whirling about with ink, letters, coins and a pot of tea.
The woman looked up as Madeira approached, and all her activities paused for half a tick before she called sharply for a doctor.
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