A Place Called Home (Ambrosia)

by **Shiress** on December 1st, 2019, 2:31 am

Placeholder for exciting things

by **Ambrosia Alar** on December 1st, 2019, 2:37 am

Ambrosia had been trying to keep her head low and herself out of the way, all while attempting to be as big of a boon to the doctors at the NMSS. It wasn’t the easiest of balances to hold, but she had made some poor choices in the last week and was doing her best to hold together the fragile bonds she had made, the one good connection she had in this city.

Shiress’ plan had worked. Ambrosia was out from under the thumb of the slavers, but here in Ravok with the way their many laws worked, she was in just as precarious of a position. Sure, she wasn’t a slave, but she wasn’t a citizen either. This put her in about the worst possible position, she found out after she had gleaned information from people who entered the facility. Citizens were protected. So too, were slaves. Outsiders ran the risk of becoming slaves themselves. Even slaves had protection, but Ambrosia wasn’t a slave.

Or at least, she hadn’t been. In what she had considered a stroke of brilliance, Autumn had scrounged together coins procured through odd favors here and there and had used them to bribe a patient to take her to be registered as Shiress’ slave. Ambrosia was beaming with pride when she showed Shiress her brand and explained what she had done.

The reaction she had received was not the one she was expecting. Something akin to rage had crossed Shiress’ eyes. Fury, in a way Ambrosia had never experienced it before, lit the other woman’s eyes, the eyes of someone she considered a friend. Fury, in a way Ambrosia had never wished to stir, stirred in the eyes and the heart of someone she respected, someone who had cared for her when she had had no cause to care. Ambrosia had taken that generosity, that saving grace, and had, albeit unknowingly, spit on it. Shame had filled her at this realization, though she still didn’t comprehend its cause fully.

Since that day, Autumn had kept her head down, continuing to recover at the NMSS and providing assistance where she could. Helping hands got kicked out a little less quickly than those who had recovered and were just lounging around. She hated to admit it, but her recovery was coming along quickly. Her body was starting to fill back in, though nothing was as full as it had been. That would take a season or so. Still, she was getting strong enough to be of use, and that would soon mean she would be strong enough to send out the door.

Being out of the hospital would be a welcome change. After all, recent days had filled it with coughing, feverish individuals, and the fuller it became, the more the precious air that remained seemed choked with the stench of sick bodies, the more the air felt heavy with sickness that threatened to take to her lungs as well. Despite not being a legitimate employee of the facility, Ambrosia had been around long enough to become a familiar face, and one employee had put her in charge of caring for one patient until a doctor got around to her.

She was a young girl with eyes Ambrosia was certain held a light, but right now, they were dull. Her breaths were shallow, and when she did try to breathe more deeply, she was racked with coughing. Ambrosia sat next to the girl while her father stood at the bedside, watching and waiting for Ambrosia to do something. The former barmaid had no idea what to do. Her usual job skills didn’t fit in here, and she figured asking the girl if she wanted a stiff drink wouldn’t impress her parents. There were options, Ambrosia knew. If she so chose, she could stand up, leave, and look for a doctor. She could invent any number of excuses to leave them hanging. Or…

Or she could use a skill she had spent a long time perfecting behind the walls of The Stallion’s Rear. This was a chance for her to be a beacon for this family. The father was terrified by the fact his daughter was sick with the same thing that had so many others in the city sick. They had seen, just as Ambrosia had, the few bodies that had already been taken away on stretchers, covered with sheets and bound for a pyre. If she left them, she took hope with her, so she stayed and did what little she knew how to do. She served them bullshit.

Placing a gentle hand on the girl’s back, Ambrosia gave the young patient her best smile. “Keep your breaths steady. It ain’t a race. Don’t push too deep. You’ll just make yourself cough more. What’s your name, love?”

Her father’s eyes narrowed. “Can’t you see she’s already struggling to breathe? Give her a break.”

Ambrosia turned her smile to him, keeping calm. “It’s important that she talks, love. It keeps the air moving more deeply and the lungs from growing stale. Trust me. She needs to talk.” Confidence. That was all Ambrosia had, but she played it to its fullest. If he didn’t know the difference, he’d just think she was smart. Turning back to the girl, Ambrosia let her smile become conspiratorial. “Let’s just the two of us talk, hey, little love? Just us girls? What’s your name?”

“Senadine.” The girl smiled but stopped to catch her breath, stifle a cough, and take another deep breath again. “Senadine Lazarin.”

“Well, don’t you worry, Senadine. We’ll take good care of you. We’ve got better doctors than anywhere east of here.” She didn’t let that sink in long. To the east was just wilderness, then ocean. “But one of our best and brightest will be along shortly to check you over. Until then, they wanted me to get started with you.”

Looking out, she saw several of the employees of the NMSS standing next to patients, holding the backs of one hand to their patients’ foreheads. She reciprocated the motion, with no idea what it was supposed to tell her. Just at the moment, a doctor stepped up to the bed.

Ambrosia’s heart skipped a beat when she realized it was Shiress, but she let her very best smile cross her lips. “Shiress.” Pulling her hand away from the child’s forehead, she stood up and introduced their patient. “Shiress, this is Senadine, Senadine Lazarin. She started coughing three days ago, and it’s only worsened since.” Dropping her voice low enough so that only Shiress could hear her, Ambrosia whispered, “Thank the Goddesses you’re here. I have no idea what I’m doing. Her skin feels like skin, and I have no idea what it’s supposed to tell me.”

With another confident smile, Ambrosia caught Senadine’s gaze again. “Shiress here will have you right as rain in no time. You just keep talking and do whatever she says.”

by **Shiress** on December 24th, 2019, 2:45 am

Shiress stepped out of the next to last exam room, chewing her bottom lip, looking concerned. Since the day before, one right after the other, patients had been coming in with much the same symptoms. Only the severity has differed. It had to be much more than just a coincidence.

Turning, she made her way down the long hallway, her soft-soled slippers making her footfalls nearly silent. Stopping at a doorway, she raised her hand and knocked before pushing open the door. Doctor Abigale Deepwater's bespectacled face peered up at her from behind a large wooden desk. Dr. Abi was a thin, wiry woman whose sharp features looks painfully stretched tight by the perfect bun atop her brunette head. She was one of two senior physicians at the facility, and Shiress speculated that she was a member of The Black Sun, also. The older physician looked as if she may have never laughed a day in her life, but put her by the bedside of a patient, and the woman transformed completely. Shiress respected that, and it put all else in place to be tolerated. She paused at the doorway. "Dr. Abi, may I come in?"

Glancing up from a paper she had been reading, Abi gave a single sharp nod. "Of course. Have a seat." she gestured to one of the two wooden chairs before her desk. Shiress crossed the floor and took the chair nearest to her and cleared her throat. "I wanted to speak to you about the flow of patients we have had since yesterday." Shiress hesitated, seeing if the woman would speak, but when she didn't, continued, "They are all presenting with the same symptoms; coughing, fever, vomiting, diarrhea. The most severe I have diagnosed with pneumonia." she paused, glancing up to see the doctor bobbing her head as if she already knew what Shiress was telling her.

Dragging the paper along with her, Abi stood and stepped around the desk and offering forth the article. Shiress accepted it, but before she began reading, Abi began explaining. "That's from the Northern Outpost. The clinic there has been swamped with influenza for the last fortnight." She sighed, looking grave. "Seems it may have spread to the city proper, also." Abi was silent a tick, then sighed heavily again, making her way back behind her desk. "I'll send for at least two more physicians and a medic or two." Glancing up, she gave Shiress an appraising look. "The next couple weeks are going to be rough. I'd understand, in your delicate condition, if you'd like to take a leave of..."

"No!" interrupted Shiress, her voice sharper than she had intended. "No" she repeated, this time more controlled. "I'll be fine. I couldn't bear the thought of not being here when needed so badly." Abi nodded. "Understood. Let me know by the end of this evening how many patients have come in. Make a daily report every day from today on." Dragging open a desk drawer, the older woman pulled out a thick tome bound with ribbon, flipped several pages, then several more before handing it to Shiress. "My personal journal of an influenza outbreak many, many seasons ago. Herbs, elixirs, salves, everything I know about treating the virus you'll find in those pages. For now, I'll see to the rest of the unused rooms are cleaned and stocked so you can start a quarantine."

Doctor Abi stood and moved around the desk, headed for the door. "You are going to need a personal assistant for the next week or so, Dr. Shi, find a capable one, Your home will be here until this outbreak is contained." She crossed the threshold, then turned back to look at Shiress. "Good luck, Shiress, and stay well." Then, she was gone.

Shiress stared at the place where Abi had been a long while before pulling her thoughts together and exiting the office.

She had to find Ambrosia.

Shiress found her voice before she found the girl and followed it to an exam room, peering inside from the doorway. A soft smile spread across Shiress's lips at the gentleness Ambrosia exuded toward the little girl and the patience she had for her worried father. To have been put through Rhysol's own personal nightmares, nearly dying, and having to learn to trust again, the girl had a genuineness about her that Shiress wondered if she herself had ever had. Something about the girl made Shiress's heart full and her smile...that smile was so very contagious and so very warm that the physician found herself smiling back at it during even her darkest thoughts.

Moving into the room, Shiress put her arm around Ambrosia's shoulders, squeezing gently. "You are doing perfectly, Ambrosia." Moving her attention to the girl, Shiress smiled. "And you, miss Senadine, are a beautiful little girl! And that hair!" As Shiress spoke, her hand disappeared into a pocket and pulled out a small jar. "I bet you paid a lot of coin for that beautiful color!" Pulling the wool from the bottle top, she dipped two fingers in, gathering a generous amount of the strong-smelling salve on her fingertips. "This good smelling stuff" she said, brandishing her covered fingers "will help clear your breathing passages." leaning down, Shiress lowered her voice conspiratorily, "I also heard it draws all the cute boys from within a mile, but we won't tell your papa that." The little girl gave a bark of laughter that ended in a coughing fit.

Shiress undid the girl's blouse and spread the salve across her small chest and propped her head up with a pillow. "Do your best to breath through your nose, okay? And, I know that coughing hurts, but the more you cough, the more yucky stuff comes up out of your chest." Shiress watched her young patient for a time, her slender fingers gently stroking her hair. When she seemed to be breathing easier, Shiress winked at her, spoke softly that she would be right back, then pulled Ambrosia quietly out of the room.

Once out of earshot of the girl and her father, Shiress turned to her young friend, sighing heavily. "I spoke to doctor Abi, and Ravok has come down with influenza. It's very contagious and very deadly to the young and to the very old and those that are sickly. There's nothing we can do but treat symptoms." Shiress pulled out the jar of salve that she had used on the little girl. "This is eucalyptus and thyme, it helps with lung congestion and eases breathing. For a fever.." Shiress grabbed Ambrosia's hand and pressed it to her forehead. "I have a normal temperature, anyone who feels hotter than me has a temperature, we treat that with cool water and a cloth. For not so high fevers keeping a cool cloth on their forehead will help, for those who have very high fevers, we may need to bathe them in cool water."

Shiress handed over the jar. "For anyone who is not coughing and seems very sleepy and is burning with fever, get another doctor or me. Anyone who has a blue tinge to the skin around there lips, yell for someone." Shiress shrugged slender shoulders, looking lost. "I've never had to deal with anything like this. We are going to learn together." Lifting a hand, Shiress brushed back the honey-colored hair from Ambrosia's shoulder, offering the worried girl a soft smile. "I'm here if you need me and if you start feeling ill..." she paused long enough to make sure she had Ambrosia's full attention, "Find me immediately, okay?"

Shiress pulled the young girl into an embrace, not knowing, nor caring if she wanted one or not. "Thank you for helping me.

We are going to get through this together, Ambrosia." Shiress smiled warmly at her companion before adding "Rosi."

by **Ambrosia Alar** on December 31st, 2019, 4:15 am

As Shiress pulled her from the room, Ambrosia listened closely and carefully to everything the other woman had to say. She wanted to be of help. She knew she could be, even if all she was was an extra pair of hands. That in itself was a help. Doctors would be busy with diagnosing patients and setting up treatments. Beds still needed to be changed; bed pans, cleaned; and patients, bathed. If nothing else, she could do these things, but Shiress seemed to think Ambrosia was more intelligent than that, that she was capable of being a greater asset.

So Ambrosia took in as much of what her mistress told her, trying to remember it all. Warm foreheads meant a fever, and fever meant illness. Treat that with a damp cloth. If it was too bad, bathe the person completely. Sleepy and blue people meant call for help. She’d never seen a blue person before, except an Akalak, and she wasn’t sure she knew what Shiress meant by it. What she did know was she would try her best. The balm had… she couldn’t remember what was in it. What she did remember was that it helped people breathe easier, and that was a blessing with what she had seen so far.

Ambrosia was still busy sorting through this new information and trying to pin it anywhere in her mind where it wouldn’t wander away when Shiress reached forward and wrapped her arms around her. Ambrosia returned the gesture, feeling the warmth emanating from the person in her arms. It felt good to have human contact again beyond the meaningless gestures strangers threw back and forth as they passed by.

An embrace. It was perhaps one of the simplest gestures one person could give another, but it held a power. In its giving, there was a vulnerability. One had to open themselves up, but the power it held was that opening one’s self up often led to reciprocation from the one they’d opened themselves up to. Ambrosia’s return of the hug was proof of as much. Perhaps the only simpler, yet equally powerful, gesture was a smile, and Shiress gave Ambrosia one of those as she broke the embrace.

“We are going to get through this together, Ambrosia.” There was a momentary pause as Shiress’ mind came up with a fonder name for her slave-turned-friend. “Rosie.”

It caught Ambrosia off guard. Perhaps that was a blessing, because if she had been able to think, all she would have done was cry. Only one person had ever used that name for her. Only one. Tessa. The sister who waited, dead and trapped in the Hai-hole that was the Sealed Grounds beneath Alvadas, waiting for Ambrosia to return once a week as she had always done and wondering why her sister had decided to abandon her. The desperation of her circumstances and the drive of survival had pushed thoughts of Tessa away until now. It caught her off guard though, and her mind reeled with the many possible ways to react, finally settling on nothing. An emptiness entered Ambrosia’s eyes, and she forced a smile as she excused herself. It would be difficult for Shiress to see the smile as anything other than exactly that, forced, but Ambrosia needed to leave.

Turning away, Ambrosia left Shiress, hoping the doctor would return to Senadine. She made her way quickly down the hall with the jar of balm in hand, ducking around a corner to lose Shiress if the doctor followed before she pushed open a door to a room she had known was empty. Shiress hadn’t meant anything by it. Ambrosia kept having to remind herself of that as she put distance between herself and the other woman. She couldn’t have known. That didn’t make it hurt any less. As soon as she was through the door, the building pressure in her chest became too much to stifle, and she burst into tears, heavy sobs racking her body. Tessa was waiting, alone, for someone to save her, and Ambrosia was here, helping strangers. No one deserved her help, not the way Tessa did. Hugging herself, she sobbed into her arms, sorrow slowly giving way to anger, anger that she was so powerless.

“What’s wrong, little one?”

Ambrosia’s next sob caught in her throat, and she briskly rubbed the back of her hands over each eyes a few times to clear the tears. The voice that had interrupted her was not angry or annoyed. It was warm and deep, if not a bit raspy, but it carried the sound of a thousand fathers in it, the same tone Ambrosia’s own father’s always had when he talked to his daughters. There was a weight to it, as if the man behind it understood he couldn’t hold the world at bay. All he could do was offer a listening ear.

Ambrosia dried her eyes a little more before turning to him. His face carried the same kindness and weight that his voice had, the weight of concern. The softening of the eyes, the gentle crease in the brow, all said this, but he was in a hospital cot. He was a patient, and he of all people shouldn’t have been the one having to comfort her.

“I’m sorry,” she apologized. “I thought this room was empty.”

The man gave her a sad smile. “It was until just about a bell ago.” His eyes softened more, and he repeated, “What’s wrong, little one?”

Ambrosia took a deep breath and shook her head. With the thought that the suffering needed her more than her self-pity did, her smile leapt to her face, her real smile, genuine and bright, full of the spark of life and joy that Ambrosia had always carried with her wherever she went. “It ain’t anything but something stupid. You’re the one who should have me fussing over you.”

The softening of his smile broke and brightened a little at the brightening of hers. “It’s not nothing. It doesn’t matter how stupid someone else might think it is. No one can fathom your mind, fathom your soul, but you. It doesn’t matter how insignificant something may seem. It doesn’t matter how stupid anyone else says it is. If it makes you sad, it makes you sad. Now, what’s wrong, little one?”

Ambrosia laughed. “Well, thank you for your validation. I appreciate it, but I ain’t gonna tell you about it. No offense, love, but it’s mine to deal with. Now let’s see to you.”

It was only now that she paused and considered him that she noticed the effort the man put into controlling his breath. Every sentence he spoke, he did so against the threat of a cough. She held the back of her hand to his forehead. “What’s your name, love?”

“It certainly isn’t ‘love.’”

Ambrosia smirked. “Yeah? Well, I ain’t little. So what is it?”

He laughed at that. “Mario.”

“Just Mario?”

“Mario Nadia.”

That was another blow Ambrosia didn’t need. She knew the name well. Not Mario but Nadia. It only took a moment to pull the full name she knew to mind. Mr. Marcel had come in to the Rear for the past two years on the anniversary of his wife’s death. Atala Nadia. Ambrosia’s hand dropped away from his forehead as she took him in. The accent was right, at least with the way Mr. Marcel had pronounced it. Mario’s age was right, too, if Mr. Marcel was any indication. More reminders of home. As if the world was dead set on showing her what she had lost.

“What’s wrong?” He did seem to like that question.

“You had a sister, didn’t you? Atala?”

That caught him off guard. Tears leapt into the corners of his eyes, but his smile grew in the fondness of her memory. “You knew her?”

Ambrosia’s hair fell into her eyes as she shook her head. “No. Her husband.”

Mario’s smile grew even more. Apparently, he had thought highly of his brother-in-law. “Eddie.”

Ambrosia shrugged. “He was always Mr. Marcel to me. He never gave his first name, said no one could say it the way she could.”

Mario nodded. “Atala had a way with words. Not so much in the stringing them together into sentences but just in the speaking of them. The mundane suddenly became breathtaking when she said it.”

Ambrosia held her hand back up to his forehead. “I’m Ambrosia.”

Mario closed his eyes. “Ambrosia? That’s a glorious name. She would have reveled in it, spoken it for days, and you would have never heard another person speak it more beautifully.”

Ambrosia smiled. “You’re making me jealous I never knew her. When did you first start to feel sick?”

“Four days ago. It just began with a little tickle in my throat, but the longer it went the more I started to cough, and the more tired I felt. When you have a little more time, you’ll have to tell me how Eddie is doing.”

Nodding, Ambrosia took the topper out of the jar Shiress had given her. “Here,” she gestured with her fingers once she had swiped them across the balm. “This should help you breathe a bit better. Don’t be afraid to cough.”

She slid the jar into her pocket after putting the topper back in place and turned toward the door. “You’ve got a fever, Mario.” She imitated the accent as well as she could when she said his name. “I’ll be back with a cold, damp cloth if I can. See if we can’t bring that down a touch.”

Opening the door, she hoped she would find another worker nearby, preferably not Shiress. She didn’t think she could face the other woman just yet.

by **Shiress** on February 29th, 2020, 7:04 pm

Shiress watched Ambrosia's features fill with...what? Anger? Surprise? Pain? Shiress couldn't quite place the emotion, and before she could ask the girl what was wrong, Ambrosia was gone, not quite running away from her down the hallway. Confused, Shiress watched the retreating figure until she turned a corner and was out of sight. Shaking her head, Shiress turned and reentered the room she had just vacated, puzzling over what she might have done to warrant such a reaction from her new friend. The hug, Shiress concluded, it must have been the hug. Shiress new she could be a bit touchy-feely. She'd apologize when she next saw Ambrosia.

Over the next few bells, Shiress created a quarantined area consisting of two hallways and a large room used for lectures and focused demonstrations. The corridors were filled with non-life-threatening and generalized flu symptoms of about sixteen patients. These patients she placed in the care of two fellow doctors, Dr. Ayers and Dr. Brantly, and a handful of nurses. The lecture room was occupied with the more critically ill, about nine patients in all scattered about the room in low, wooden cots. Shiress, Dr. Abi, and a medic, Dom, that she thought was shortened from Dominic -a mountain of a man whose physique more reminded Shiress of a warrior than that of a caregiver- saw to these patients.

As for Ambrosia, she had sighted the young girl a few times as she flitted to and from one bedside to another but hadn't had the time to stop the girl and speak with her. Their last encounter still worried Shiress and she would have to find her soon and make sure she was okay.

A bell past midnight and the great hall where Shiress worked was quiet and shadowed, with only a few candles and lamps burning. Shiress sat on a small stool by the bedside of Senadine. The little girl's breathing had become more and more labored as the night went on, and Shiress made the call to move her to the lecture hall to be more closely monitored. Sena's father knelt by his daughter's cot, head resting against his arm, his hand holding tight to the smaller one beneath it.

A movement from across the maze of bed cots caught Shiress eye, and she watched as Dr. Abi stood from her own bedside vigil and gently pull a blanket over the face of an older male patient. Shiress drew in a despondent breath and blew it out slowly as she stood, pulling the thick cloth from Sena's chest. For what seemed like the hundredth time, she rinsed the cloth in a basin at the foot of the bed, squeezing out the excess water before liberally dousing it with eucalyptus oil and returning it to the little girl's chest. Her movements roused the sleeping father, who blinked up sleepily at the doctor. Shiress gave him a reassuring smile.

"Rest easy Papa" she soothed, before the man's thoughts grew panicked, "Sena's breathing a bit easier."

Stepping away, Shiress pulled an empty cot up close to the little girl's bedside, gesturing toward it as she spoke. "Sleep. I'll wake you if anything changes, good or bad. Promise."

The man hesitated for only a tick before he began lowering himself down. "Drake" he said, then added, "My name's Drake Lazarin, and I want to apologize for earlier, I was just so scared..."

Shiress silenced him with a gentle shake of her head. "No need." Shiress said, her hand falling unmindfully to her stomach "I can't imagine seeing your little one so sick and feeling so helpless. Rest now."

"As should you." Dr. Abi's voice said from behind her.

Shiress straightened, readying an argument, but the woman's supreme raised hand silenced her into a relenting nod of her head instead.

Shiress smiled gratefully, placing a hand against Abi's arm. "Some fresh air first, then I'll rest."

Shiress crossed the floor and had no sooner set foot into the open corridor before a wave of nausea assaulted her. The room spun, and Shiress fell against the closest wall for support. By the time the nausea abated, Shiress had figured out that she hadn't eaten anything in bells. With the room still tilting dangerously beneath her, Shiress balanced herself enough to try and free her bag from around her shoulder, but the movement had her head spinning faster, beads of sweat surfacing on her brow.

Pregnant Shiress had gone far too long without eating or drinking anything.

The sound of soft footsteps came from around the corner, further down the hallway.

Going on a hopeful hunch, Shiress called out.

"Ambrosia?"

Even that much given effort had another wave of sick washing through her. Shiress slowly turned around until her back took the place of the steadying hand against the wall.

Ambrosia rounded the corner, and Shiress grinned wide at seeing her friend again.

"Are you all right?" Shiress asked as the girl drew closer "I'm sorry if I said or done something that offended you. I promise I would never do so intentionally."

The room gave another grand swoop around and under as Shiress tried to step forward, causing her to thump back hard against the wall again.

"I think I must have missed dinner." Shiress gave a self-deprecating chuckle. "Can you help me with my bag and maybe guide me outside for some fresh air, where we can talk awhile."

by **Ambrosia Alar** on April 6th, 2020, 1:45 am

The high number of sick patients had kept Ambrosia busier than she would have liked, but it had kept her away from Shiress. That was about the only blessing to be had from this whole ordeal. It was one thing when she was scrambling nonstop all night long at the Rear, handing out drinks, entertaining friends, and consoling broken hearts. Those were all things she knew, and the only reason she wouldn’t be able to get through a night at the Rear with her eyes closed would be that she wanted to see her friends. This was different though. In a hospital, she was out of her element and had no idea what she was doing. Even worse was the way it taxed her mind and her heart. She almost constantly had to think about what she was doing, even the tasks she thought most mundane, because everything was new. And everyone here was a stranger.

Still, she was healthy, healthy enough, and the staff here was short-handed. As incompetent as she felt, Ambrosia was taking some of the pressure off them, as she continued to run back and forth, dabbing brows, cleaning cots, and fetching any supplies the doctors asked for. She had just finished one such task and was on her way to check on Mario again when someone called her from around a corner and down the hall.

“Ambrosia?”

She had been around Shiress long enough to recognize her voice. Ambrosia was no doctor, but she was used to judging emotion and well-being by people’s voices. Shiress did not sound okay. Ambrosia’s pace picked up to round the corner and make it to her mistress and friend’s side.

Shiress was leaning against the wall for support, and Ambrosia was reminded of the many drunks she had seen do the same thing. It seemed inappropriate to smile at someone being lightheaded, especially in the current outbreak of sickness, but when Shiress grinned, Ambrosia couldn’t help but smile in return.

“Are you alright?” Shiress was asking about Ambrosia’s earlier, sudden departure, but Ambrosia was experienced at guiding conversations where she wanted them to go, at turning questions back around, at pushing the attention away from herself, if that was what she truly wanted.

“Am I okay?” Ambrosia laughed. “Have you seen yourself? You look like you’ve had five too many drinks.”

“I think I might have missed dinner,” Shiress admitted after an unsuccessful attempt to stand upright.

Ambrosia laughed and smiled. Her smile was something that costed her nothing, and it was easy to give. “I know just the thing. What you need is a lot of beer and a little food, or, hear me out, a little bit of food and a lot of beer. It always seems to do the trick for me.”

It was the only remedy she knew to prescribe, but she couldn’t count how many people had left the Rear healed of their weariness or broken hearts by nothing more. “First, though, I gotta check you.”

Holding the back of her hand to Shiress’ forehead, it felt normal to Ambrosia, nothing like the burning fevers that had been so common throughout the day. Just to be sure, she held the back of her hand to her own forehead and found it felt the same.

“Well, the good news is you feel like me, so either we’re both okay or we’re both sick. Now that I think of it, I’m starving. Maybe we’ve got the same thing,” Ambrosia joked. “But you’re clear, so let’s go get that fresh air you were wanting.”

Hefting Shiress’ bag up, she offered the other woman her elbow chivalrously, letting Shiress lean heavily on her. Once they made it out into the night, Ambrosia found a bench out away from the edge of the Healing Hand and sat Shiress and her back down on it with a promise to return shortly. Ambrosia had been running food to patients all day and knew where to find it, so only a chime passed before she returned with two bowls of stew with a roll balanced on the edge of each.

Handing Shiress hers, Ambrosia shrugged. “No beer. What kind of hospital are you running, love?”

Smiling at her own joke, she sat next to Shiress, took a spoonful of stew, and looked up at the night sky speckled and marred by little lights. “Ooh!” she exclaimed around her mouthful of food. “I found it. I win.”

Realizing Shiress had no idea that she was even participating in a game, Ambrosia swallowed her food and explained. “Sorry. It’s a game my sisters and I used to play, see which of us could find the brightest star in the sky first. I always win.”

Leaning over and pressing her cheek to Shiress’, Ambrosia pointed at the sky, so Shiress could follow her finger to find the constellation. “It’s that one there. Priskil’s Light. The Watchstar. It sits on top of the Aquiras Gate, the little ‘h’ there.”

Sighing, she let her eyes wander the heavens. “Stars always get the best stories, and that one ain’t an exception.”

by **Shiress** on April 22nd, 2020, 6:00 pm

Shiress had just graciously accepted the bowl of stew from Ambrosia when a thought hit her -Ambrosia knew little to nothing about her, including the fact that she was pregnant.

Shiress wasn't showing as much as she should have been, and no one would know unless she told them. Wouldnt that, no doubt, pique the girl's curiosity, seeing as Shiress was fairly certain Ambrosia knew she had no man in her life. She'd have to remedy those little known facts for her new friend soon.

Shiress's emerald gaze lingered on Ambrosia as she sat, appreciating the girl's wry humor, but also admiring her infectious smile. It was near impossible for her to stop the beginnings of her own grin, slowly spreading across her lips.

Just as Shiress ladled a spoon full of stew passed her lips, Ambrosia spoke excitedly, nearly causing the doctor to miss her mouth. Shiress's smile grew, and she shook her head. "No," she glanced over to her friend warmly, meaningfully, "I think I found it first." When Ambrosia met her gaze, she bumped her shoulder against hers. "You have the most amazing smile. You know that?"

Shiress couldn't help but notice the slight bit of sadness that entered her friend's eyes when she mentioned her sisters and wondered about the story there but knew not to inquire. Some grief was too hard to voice.

When Ambrosia leaned into her, pressing her cheek against hers, Shiress had to stifle a shudder. She longed for the closeness that only a friend could bring. The security and comfort of friendly, loving arms around her, soothing away a broken heart. Shiress missed Rook to the point of physical pain. She missed Elias too. Closing her eyes briefly, she shelved those emotions and the temptation to throw her arms around Ambrosia's shoulders and cry her heart out. Instead, she shoveled another spoonful of stew into her mouth before her gaze traveled up, following her friend's gesture.

Shiress had never given much thought to the night sky save an upward glance in the wake of some dreamy thought or wish. Tonight though, with Leth's light missing, the stars shone brightly against the black canvas of night. It reminded Shiress of a black blanket with diamonds scattered across its surface. It indeed was a beautiful sight, and as Ambrosia spoke, her gaze found the place she indicated, eyes growing wide.

Drawing back, Shiress gazed at her friend in wonder. "Priskil? The Watchtower? You mean.." she glanced skyward again, jaw coming slightly unhinged, "..you mean they all have names and stories? All of them?" Shiress huffed a laugh, shaking her head. "Huh..I never knew that."

Letting her gaze settle back on Ambrosia, Shiress warmed to the idea and wiggled a bit in her seat like an excited toddler. "Will you tell me?"

by **Ambrosia Alar** on April 27th, 2020, 11:39 pm

“Will you tell me?”

Ambrosia smiled. Shiress’ enthusiasm for the stories matched Tessa’s, the only difference between the two being that Tessa would have just demanded.

Dancing like the twinkling light of the stars, Ambrosia’s eyes scanned the heavens in search of a constellation that would be a good one for introducing Shiress to the world of the night sky and the stories it told. It had to be a good one, enough to enrapture Shiress forever and keep her curious but not so much that Ambrosia couldn’t top it. Something above her in the infinite expanse beyond caught her eyes, and she laughed and smiled.

“I promise I ain’t trying to be cruel, but the first constellation story I’m gonna tell you ain’t actually a constellation.”

Her hand extended upward and tracked over from The Aquiras Gate, heading southeasterly. “If you follow this direction from the one I just showed you, you’ll eventually come to a patch without any stars. You see it there?”

There was indeed a patch of starless sky where Autumn’s outstretched finger stopped. While there was space between most stars, this was significant, and the darkness that resided there seemed thicker, too. The black was blacker there than elsewhere in the night sky, almost as if color and light were demolished, lost in an endless vacuum of the nothingness that existed beyond the atmosphere.

“That’s The Well of Akajia, the last bastion of the darkness.”

Ambrosia remembered her mother Alessa telling this story and the wonder it had filled her with as a child. Her mother’s favorite stories had always been those about the light, but there was such a passion in Alessa’s voice when she told this one that Ambrosia finally understood that her mother loved the dark as much as the light, that both were equally valuable, both were wondrous in their scope and majesty, both contained breathtaking beauty.

“They say that when the world first smoldered into its burgeoning existence, it was dark and formless, and only Lhex and Tanroa gazed upon it. Darkness was how the world began, and for it, the world was unaware of both its beauty and its faults. In the beginning, there were only three forces at work. Fate and Time and Darkness. In these days, Akajia’s power knew no bounds. Her reach was infinite as existence had been unmarred by light. Darkness touched everything.

“But the world needed form, and while Ivak and Semele worked to shape it, the first of many lights burst into being as Ivak’s fires split the face of the world to reform it in Semele’s vision. It was the first time Akajia had been banished from the existence, even if it was in the smallest of places, but She celebrated the arrival of light, for with it came a new creation.

“Shadows. Without light, these ephemeral beings had not existed, but now, they scattered across the whole of Mizahar. Where light came into being, Akajia found shadows as well, and She adopted the orphaned darkness, calling them, sheltering them, and making them her own.”

Ambrosia paused, not for dramatic effect, but because she was beginning to forget parts of the story. Tessa hadn’t requested this one, and so Ambrosia only got to hear it when her sister had already fallen asleep for the night and Ambrosia got to choose the bedtime story. This had only been one among many that she had wanted to hear. Old memories of her mother’s voice came to her, and Ambrosia went on.

“Ivak’s light was limited, and as Mizahar took shape and found itself molded to its liking, Semele swallowed His luminescence, leaving the world drowned in darkness once more. It was as the world had begun, but it had found a taste for the light. Clamoring Gods and Goddesses strived to flex their fledgling powers, and two did so in the same vein as Ivak had, shedding new lights on Mizahar, stronger lights than the one Ivak had demonstrated. These two lights were the sun and the moon, Syna and Leth.

“Once more, Akajia’s dark was pushed back, but She didn’t fret. Though these lights were strong, they were still fleeting, Syna only shining half the time to create the cycle of day and night and Leth waxing and waning. As They faded, more shadows were always left in Their wake, and Akajia gathered more and more shadows to Her. Always, darkness returned.

“Until one day, Semele had a daughter.”

Ambrosia had always found phrases in her mother’s stories that she had latched on to, phrases that hinged the story. This was one of her favorites, and she let the story rest there for a moment.

“Though younger than some of the other Gods and Goddesses, Zintila’s power dwarfed them all, Her reach seeming as infinite and impressive as the first three powers. She reached beyond the face of Mizahar, setting the myriad of stars into being, lights as impressive as Syna that lit worlds of their own. Zintila reached to the places only Tanroa had encountered and filled them with light. In Her youthful enthusiasm, She had littered the skies with Her stars, and darkness was no more. The young Goddess reveled in these new worlds, caring for each of them as much as Semele cared for Mizahar.

“Akajia waited, expecting Zintila’s light to fade the way the others had, but the new Goddess’ power rivaled Akajia’s, rivaled Tanroa’s. It never abated, and as day upon day passed with no respite, Akajia found more and more shadows gathering to Her, their very existence fading beneath the onslaught of the light. She tried to shelter them in Her darkness, but it wasn’t enough to save many of them. Finally, Akajia came to Zintila, a dying shadow in Her arms.

“Zintila saw Akajia and the shadow and understood the other Goddess’ appeal. Zintila had grown to love Her many worlds but always found Herself returning to Mizahar, found Herself returning to the world She loved most, the world She had been born to, the world of Her mother. These shadows, this darkness, were a part of that world. In an act that rivaled any destruction Mizahar had seen before and anything that had arisen since, Zintila destroyed a swath of stars and the worlds they lit, Her heart breaking with them, but it was necessary.

“From the hole in the light, darkness came pouring back into the world. The shadows that had been dying suddenly leapt to life, and the balance that had been broken was restored. Though Zintila continued to create constellations in celebration of the many deeds performed, She always made certain to keep that expanse of sky open for Akajia. They say that from that Well Akajia has drawn every shadow since.”

“She is the Darkness, and the Darkness was there from the beginning. All lights eventually flicker and fade. All lights go out, and when they do, Darkness always returns, ready to envelope the world in the cradle it was born into.”

Ambrosia really paused this time, letting Shiress know the story was over. She shrugged. “At least, that’s the way mom told it.”

by **Shiress** on January 5th, 2021, 3:33 am

Shiress lowered her gaze long enough to shovel more stew into her mouth before lifting her eyes once again, following Ambrosia's pointing finger toward the sky as her story continued. Many questions were built around the names in the girl's tale, but the doctor remained silent, listening intently until the end. Akajia, Lhex, and Tanroa, almost all of the named gods or goddesses, were foreign, save for Syna and Leth, whom her parents referred to often. Ambrosia's words did, however, remind Shiress of something her father had once told her.

Once Ambrosia had fallen silent, Shiress's gaze lingered skyward a tick, mulling over the lesson, before lowering it with a shake of her head.

"That's amazing, really. And strange." she said, staring into her cooling bowl of stew. "When someone speaks of darkness, and shadows my mind always goes to scary and dangerous, but to think that there is no shadow without light.." she shrugged, "I don't know, it puts a kind of different perspective on it, you know?"

Shiress's green gaze ascended once more, thoughts traveling through time back to a slightly similar lesson from her Father.

"Perspective." she whispered, mostly to herself, remembering. "Your story reminds me of something." she paused, chewing her bottom lip, then placed her bowl down beside her and leaned forward, forearms on knees. "I grew up in Zeltiva, and my daddy was...is a shipwright. Sometimes on nights when Leth was nowhere in sight, and the stars were the brightest, he would take my brother and me out on a boat and anchor just offshore." she smiled, remembering the night she and Zane had stretched out on their backs along the bow of a small boat. How her father's deep baritone voice had filled the night's quiet as stars twinkled and blinked above them like diamonds catching light on a black, silken canvas.

"One day, when I was about ten years old," Shiress began, smiling at the memory, "I was in my room crying and upset because little six-year-old Avery, a little girl that had taken up following me everywhere, was being a copy cat." Shiress shot a sideways glance at Ambrosia, grinning at the childish name. "Avery had plaited pigtails just like me and wore a blue dress and black shoes, just like me. If I picked up a stick, so did Avery. If I stopped to pet a cat, Avery petted the same cat. If I skipped...you get the idea."

"Oh how angry that made me!" Shiress chuckled, shaking her head. "When I told my dad what little miss copy cat was doing, he got real quiet, then said we'd be going on on the boat that night and that he was going to teach my brother and me about 'perspective'. Anyway, to make a long story short, that night, as Zane, my brother, and I were lying under the stars on dad's little boat, he told us a story sort of similar to yours, but not really." Shiress grimaced, knowing her storytelling skill was somewhere between none and petching awful. "Well," she said, "It went like this..."

All creatures desire syna's light, but none desire it more than Leth and Zintila, but for very different reasons. Leth's desire is fashioned from envy and greed, for he only desires her light for himself. As Syna rests, Leth steals her light and shines brightly at night, but for as strong as his light is, his covetousness weakens him, and his light wanes until it is completely snuffed out.

Zintila's desire, however, is fashioned of admiration and respect, for she thinks Syna's light is beautiful and only desires to share it. So Zintila does not steal, but only reflects Syna's beauty and scatters it across the sky for all to see, and love, and enjoy. Zintila's light never wanes and only shines brighter as Leth's stolen light dwindles."

Shiress grew quiet, staring at the dotted landscape above them, seemingly lost in her own words, then ducked her head, looking suddenly sheepish.

"Or...something like that." she shrugged "I think the point my dad was trying to prove was that I had the wrong perspective. I was accusing Avery of stealing from me, in a way, and failing to see that she was only attempting to reflect the beauty she saw in me."

Shiress groaned, embarrassed.

"I couldn't tell a good story if my life depended on it!" she scoffed "But, yeah, sort of like your story." she smiled "Thank you for sharing it. Next time you will have to tell me about the names, though, Akajia, Lhex, and the others. My family wasn't very religious, obviously."

Shiress paused, her smile slowly fading, with the realization that yet again, she had referred to her family as if they didn't exist anymore.

I'm the one that doesn't exist to them.

Shiress shook herself free from that downward spiral of emotion and turned her gaze on Ambrosia, studying her face closely, noting the girl's own sadness etched into the creases of her eyes, the lines of her youthful face, the downward tug of her full lips, and knew there was a story there of heartache and loss. Shiress reached a hand toward Ambrosia's face to gently soothe away the lines of despair that drew her thin brows together with the soft tip of her forefinger.

"And after you tell me about them, tell me about the family that your heart aches for."

Before either one of them could speak again, the door behind them was jerked inward, revealing a worried looking Dr. Abi in the doorway, her face grave as her eyes fixed on Shiress.

"You're needed urgently, doctor." her gaze shifted to Ambrosia "Both of you."

Placeholder A Place Called Home (Ambrosia)