Timestamp: 62nd day, Summer season, 513
Her skin and scales were peeling. Badly, in places. She’d move to reach for something, or try to comb her hair, and find sheets of translucent skin-scales falling away in delicate, shimmering pieces. I look like a desert lizard... merciful Gods. She’d hesitated to look in the mirror. Alder told her that it wasn’t as bad as it looked, that the sun damage she’d taken on the journey to Syliras would heal in a day or two. Still, having the shedding-lizard feeling wasn't exactly a welcome one, particularly not while she was still healing from the time spent in the saddle.
Her muscle strength was, so far, just fine. As she was not a seasoned rider, the travel had taken a fairly harsh toll on her body but she did know some things. Enough to keep her going, enough to keep the joints mobile as she rode and enough to arrive more or less in one piece. Well, apart from the pieces that were now falling off, of course.
Alder had told her to get out of the shop and get some air. Restless, she’d begged him to let her stay and help him tend his patients - “I can still heal with my Mark! That doesn’t cost me anyt--” She’d gotten that much out before he’d summarily ousted her, all but physically picking her up and setting her outside the door. Even complaining that the stiffness and blisters on her legs were too painful to walk, or that the sun was too bright, didn’t help. "My boys found some raspberries out the east wall. Make yourself useful and go get some. Maybe some Narnvayt root while you're at it." He gave her a basket, a slender cane and a shawl to shield her against the sun, then sent her out the door like the cranky and difficult patient she knew she was being.
I must look like an old woman, she thought to herself, agitated, as she stood in the doorway and draped the shawl over her hair and face. She turned to glance at her reflection in the glass and, at once, was glad of the garment, however it made her look at first. Always too hard on herself, she saw the streaks of scarlet intermingled with Konti scaling and cringed, hiding as best she could within the shadow of the shawl. The rest, she draped over her shoulders and then set out - gingerly, one painful, cane-assisted step at a time - down the street.
***
The day after she’d arrived, she’d heard the fighting begin. Lysa didn’t want her back, that was no surprise, even though the woman never had the courage to show disdain outwardly. But Alder would have none of it. Never the closest of lovers, they’d fought bitterly but briefly before he’d ended the argument. They were the only family, however dysfunctional, the Konti had. And he’d not be casting her out. He had only to remind his ‘beloved’ wife of a few of the more choice members of her own kin and, reluctantly, she’d abandoned the feud.
When Litani saw Alder again, he brought her some simple food - oatmeal, an egg, a small piece of sausage. He’d told her to eat slowly, but to eat everything, no matter what her stomach said to her. There was also tea and an ample measure of water - again, with the command to take it slow. She was dehydrated but not dangerously so, yet the burns and blisters would require their own healing water to mend properly. He left ointment for her to address the weals on her legs - mercifully, he didn’t seem intent on attending to those. He left books - a few that he knew she enjoyed, some new ones, a few about their shared profession. Herbs, potions, philters... and one about the differences in anatomy between the known races of Mizahar. And lastly, he’d shown her the most precious possession she’d left behind - her pedal harp. The instrument was too ornate, too delicate, and too old to safely survive the journey so she’d left it with him, calling it a downpayment against the day when she’d return to claim it... yet in the same breath, she empowered him to sell it if his family ever needed it. He responded that he’d sooner sell himself than something so precious of hers.That was how much they meant to each other.
In the end, a measure of peace had come over the household. The children spent a good deal of time out of doors, enjoying the summer, and Lysa busied herself with... whatever it was Lysa did. Litani didn’t know. She didn’t particularly care to know. All she knew was that Alder had a steady and ample stream of patients - squires, knights in training, craftsmen and their apprentices, women with child, children with injury. In all, it was much as she left it a scant few weeks before. It was good to be home.
***
Mid-day found her picking her way carefully through the paths east of the city. Alder knew her - with a task, however menial and meaningless, she would be more at ease. She'd work with her hands and forget how sore the rest of her body was. She'd begin to heal.
He hadn't asked what had happened in Riverfall... why she'd fled so quickly. She knew he probably would not ask. And just as well that he sent her out - she needed time to think. Time to reflect... on dreams, as well as memories. And with the substantive greenery of the Bronze Woods ahead of her, she had time to do just that.
Her skin and scales were peeling. Badly, in places. She’d move to reach for something, or try to comb her hair, and find sheets of translucent skin-scales falling away in delicate, shimmering pieces. I look like a desert lizard... merciful Gods. She’d hesitated to look in the mirror. Alder told her that it wasn’t as bad as it looked, that the sun damage she’d taken on the journey to Syliras would heal in a day or two. Still, having the shedding-lizard feeling wasn't exactly a welcome one, particularly not while she was still healing from the time spent in the saddle.
Her muscle strength was, so far, just fine. As she was not a seasoned rider, the travel had taken a fairly harsh toll on her body but she did know some things. Enough to keep her going, enough to keep the joints mobile as she rode and enough to arrive more or less in one piece. Well, apart from the pieces that were now falling off, of course.
Alder had told her to get out of the shop and get some air. Restless, she’d begged him to let her stay and help him tend his patients - “I can still heal with my Mark! That doesn’t cost me anyt--” She’d gotten that much out before he’d summarily ousted her, all but physically picking her up and setting her outside the door. Even complaining that the stiffness and blisters on her legs were too painful to walk, or that the sun was too bright, didn’t help. "My boys found some raspberries out the east wall. Make yourself useful and go get some. Maybe some Narnvayt root while you're at it." He gave her a basket, a slender cane and a shawl to shield her against the sun, then sent her out the door like the cranky and difficult patient she knew she was being.
I must look like an old woman, she thought to herself, agitated, as she stood in the doorway and draped the shawl over her hair and face. She turned to glance at her reflection in the glass and, at once, was glad of the garment, however it made her look at first. Always too hard on herself, she saw the streaks of scarlet intermingled with Konti scaling and cringed, hiding as best she could within the shadow of the shawl. The rest, she draped over her shoulders and then set out - gingerly, one painful, cane-assisted step at a time - down the street.
***
The day after she’d arrived, she’d heard the fighting begin. Lysa didn’t want her back, that was no surprise, even though the woman never had the courage to show disdain outwardly. But Alder would have none of it. Never the closest of lovers, they’d fought bitterly but briefly before he’d ended the argument. They were the only family, however dysfunctional, the Konti had. And he’d not be casting her out. He had only to remind his ‘beloved’ wife of a few of the more choice members of her own kin and, reluctantly, she’d abandoned the feud.
When Litani saw Alder again, he brought her some simple food - oatmeal, an egg, a small piece of sausage. He’d told her to eat slowly, but to eat everything, no matter what her stomach said to her. There was also tea and an ample measure of water - again, with the command to take it slow. She was dehydrated but not dangerously so, yet the burns and blisters would require their own healing water to mend properly. He left ointment for her to address the weals on her legs - mercifully, he didn’t seem intent on attending to those. He left books - a few that he knew she enjoyed, some new ones, a few about their shared profession. Herbs, potions, philters... and one about the differences in anatomy between the known races of Mizahar. And lastly, he’d shown her the most precious possession she’d left behind - her pedal harp. The instrument was too ornate, too delicate, and too old to safely survive the journey so she’d left it with him, calling it a downpayment against the day when she’d return to claim it... yet in the same breath, she empowered him to sell it if his family ever needed it. He responded that he’d sooner sell himself than something so precious of hers.That was how much they meant to each other.
In the end, a measure of peace had come over the household. The children spent a good deal of time out of doors, enjoying the summer, and Lysa busied herself with... whatever it was Lysa did. Litani didn’t know. She didn’t particularly care to know. All she knew was that Alder had a steady and ample stream of patients - squires, knights in training, craftsmen and their apprentices, women with child, children with injury. In all, it was much as she left it a scant few weeks before. It was good to be home.
***
Mid-day found her picking her way carefully through the paths east of the city. Alder knew her - with a task, however menial and meaningless, she would be more at ease. She'd work with her hands and forget how sore the rest of her body was. She'd begin to heal.
He hadn't asked what had happened in Riverfall... why she'd fled so quickly. She knew he probably would not ask. And just as well that he sent her out - she needed time to think. Time to reflect... on dreams, as well as memories. And with the substantive greenery of the Bronze Woods ahead of her, she had time to do just that.
