Arialla grimaced as the light hit her eyes. She didn't want to open them,
so continued dozing, her mind wandering in those crevices between sleep and
awakening. The angle was all wrong for morning, which meant that she had
overslept. Jaemath would be angry at her. Besides, her pallet was so
comfortable today, seeming almost springy and soft. She began to stretch
out her arms.
Wait a minute, she thought to her dream self. My pallet? Jaemath? Images rushed back to her. The young boy with the terrible smile. The sadistic band of men who had taken over Jaemath's tavern, painting the room with blood. Running. She remembered frantically running in the dark. The pain in her legs.
That memory banished the last of sleep from her mind, causing Arialla's eyes to fly open with a start. Her whole body ached, especially her feet. Just thinking about them seemed to cause the pain to expand. They seemed to be on fire. Like the fire that had always burned in Jaemath's kitchen. Jaemath, who had been killed. As the fact of his death sank in, Arialla was bombarded by waves of loss and grief. She tried to hold the tears back as they leaked down her face. Her body hurt, but she could not control the sobs that rose in her.
"Shh.. I know. Just cry." Crooned a gentle voice as two motherly arms wrapped around her. It was all too much for her. The very last barriers on Arialla's control broke, and she found herself wailing into the proffered shoulder.
The fear she that had gripped her during the night, the sorrow over Jaemath's loss, the guilt that she could have not done more. The abandonment she had felt when Ashna had left. Even the old shame that she could be nothing more than the whore her mother had wanted her to be rose within Arialla. She found herself crying as she had never cried before, until her body simply could not sustain tears any longer.
The arms stayed wrapped around her, rocking her gently: soothing her with silently shared grief. Arialla realized that for the first time since Ashna had left, she felt like she belonged somewhere, that someone truly cared. She reveled in the warmth, despite the sorrow that hung in heart.
"W-where am I?" Arialla croaked out, shifting her weight slightly. The woman holding her released her, but still stayed comfortingly close. Looking up, Arialla was greeted by a pair of large caring brown eyes set in a worn heart-shaped face.
"Haven. The Healer's Collegium, to be exact." Replied the woman.
"Haven?!" Squawked Arialla, her eyes growing as wide despite their puffiness. Haven was the last place she wanted to be.
"Yes. Herald Sen brought you here two days ago."
"Herald?" That concept startled her beyond all bounds. A Herald: like her father. They were creatures of legend, even if her mother had bad-mouthed them. Even the worst sort admired their bravery and honor. They were beyond a nobody like her, especially in their almighty white uniforms. The ones that were supposed to be magic and never stained, even in the foulest mud. White like the clouds, like new lambs, the woman's shirt....
Arialla suddenly realized that the woman sitting before her was clothed from head to toe in unadorned white. Heraldic white.
"Child, you look as if a board hit you."
"How..Why..But.."
"Now, now. You are to stay here until you feel completely recovered. You've damaged your legs quite nicely, so the Healers will have nothing else." She smiled, giving Arialla a tired wink. Her smile seemed to engulf Arialla like a warm hug. A feeling of well-being pervaded Arialla and a wave of lassitude swept her limbs. "You look like you're about ready to fall asleep with your eyes open," the woman chuckled deeply. "My name is Talia, by the way. Just ask for me if you ever feel like talking."
Talia, thought Arialla as sleep took her. Why does that name sound so familiar?
Wait a minute, she thought to her dream self. My pallet? Jaemath? Images rushed back to her. The young boy with the terrible smile. The sadistic band of men who had taken over Jaemath's tavern, painting the room with blood. Running. She remembered frantically running in the dark. The pain in her legs.
That memory banished the last of sleep from her mind, causing Arialla's eyes to fly open with a start. Her whole body ached, especially her feet. Just thinking about them seemed to cause the pain to expand. They seemed to be on fire. Like the fire that had always burned in Jaemath's kitchen. Jaemath, who had been killed. As the fact of his death sank in, Arialla was bombarded by waves of loss and grief. She tried to hold the tears back as they leaked down her face. Her body hurt, but she could not control the sobs that rose in her.
"Shh.. I know. Just cry." Crooned a gentle voice as two motherly arms wrapped around her. It was all too much for her. The very last barriers on Arialla's control broke, and she found herself wailing into the proffered shoulder.
The fear she that had gripped her during the night, the sorrow over Jaemath's loss, the guilt that she could have not done more. The abandonment she had felt when Ashna had left. Even the old shame that she could be nothing more than the whore her mother had wanted her to be rose within Arialla. She found herself crying as she had never cried before, until her body simply could not sustain tears any longer.
The arms stayed wrapped around her, rocking her gently: soothing her with silently shared grief. Arialla realized that for the first time since Ashna had left, she felt like she belonged somewhere, that someone truly cared. She reveled in the warmth, despite the sorrow that hung in heart.
"W-where am I?" Arialla croaked out, shifting her weight slightly. The woman holding her released her, but still stayed comfortingly close. Looking up, Arialla was greeted by a pair of large caring brown eyes set in a worn heart-shaped face.
"Haven. The Healer's Collegium, to be exact." Replied the woman.
"Haven?!" Squawked Arialla, her eyes growing as wide despite their puffiness. Haven was the last place she wanted to be.
"Yes. Herald Sen brought you here two days ago."
"Herald?" That concept startled her beyond all bounds. A Herald: like her father. They were creatures of legend, even if her mother had bad-mouthed them. Even the worst sort admired their bravery and honor. They were beyond a nobody like her, especially in their almighty white uniforms. The ones that were supposed to be magic and never stained, even in the foulest mud. White like the clouds, like new lambs, the woman's shirt....
Arialla suddenly realized that the woman sitting before her was clothed from head to toe in unadorned white. Heraldic white.
"Child, you look as if a board hit you."
"How..Why..But.."
"Now, now. You are to stay here until you feel completely recovered. You've damaged your legs quite nicely, so the Healers will have nothing else." She smiled, giving Arialla a tired wink. Her smile seemed to engulf Arialla like a warm hug. A feeling of well-being pervaded Arialla and a wave of lassitude swept her limbs. "You look like you're about ready to fall asleep with your eyes open," the woman chuckled deeply. "My name is Talia, by the way. Just ask for me if you ever feel like talking."
Talia, thought Arialla as sleep took her. Why does that name sound so familiar?