Sooooo I owe everyone an apology for kind of disappearing and dropping off the face of the planet for a while there. It was a combination of my new job taking up a lot of time, the live-action version of One Piece coming out and subsequently consuming all of my brain power for a solid three weeks, and then finding out my roommates and I got the house we're living in sold out from under us. Still looking for a new place to live but I've got some promising leads and it doesn't look like I'll be homeless. So that's good. I hope to get back to updating regularly ASAP, but things might still be a little strange throughout October and maybe even November. Still, I'm glad you're all hanging on, and hope you enjoy this new chapter.
As it turned out, it was hard to run a clinic when you had no patients.
It wasn't that this world had no one in need of medical treatment, Erilda was sure; no, all the texts about this world were quite clear that it was a damaged place, sick in a way that could only have been done by powerful magic or perhaps a god angry at the people who walked here. Whatever the explanation behind this sickness was, however, it inflicted illness on not just the land but the animals and people within it. And, besides, even if this world was perfectly healthy there would always be people in need of healing.
They just had to find them.
Erilda sighed as she made her way through the main building. Cots for patients had been set up along the walls, separated by clean white sheets to provide a semblance of privacy. Now, if only they could get those cots filled.
Aratte found her frustrations and secret nervousness outlandish and unreasonable. In the girl's mind, time before the arrival of patients could only be beneficial -a period used for growing not only their community but also all the supplies they would need to run it. She herself spent easily fourteen hours a day in her greenhouse, tending to her plants and plotting ways to make them grow faster and stronger.
The Bosmer was the only one with this mindset, however, and while everyone else filled their days with various tasks -General assistants spent hours stitching bandages and slings to use if need be, alchemists brewed potions, and cataloged what they might need, and others tended to the animals and collected eggs. Even the cook was hard at work prepping for the days to come, pickling some eggs, salting meat, and canning some of their fresh goods- there was no doubt that, after two weeks, a thick cloud of nervousness was starting to hang over the Second Chance community.
Yet Erilda refused to let her own nerves show, her pride as a noblewoman, a healer, and the leader of this expedition prohibiting it. If she showed doubt in their mission, then it would signal that there was no need for the rest of them to continue believing in it. They would panic, they would abandon it. And she could not let that happen.
More than that, Erilda would not allow that!
At least she had an ally in Voriron, her dear second-in-command. Though he was over 150 years younger than she was, and could certainly act as if he was younger still, Voriron had a good head on his shoulders. If Erilda could only confine in one person in this entire world, as well as the one she came from, she was glad it was him.
Several nights ago, they had met in the dark of their new 'courtyard' and the two had decided that someone would need to venture out on the land around them to find the nearest settlement. It need not be a big one, just something to assure everyone that there were people nearby. That they did have a purpose in this world. After they found the first settlement and established good relations with them, that settlement could help Erilda find another, and then another, and then another, and so on.
Yes, that was the hope.
The plan was reached that the second of their three guards, Kaladil Sillonour, would be sent out to scout the nearby area. He would set out each morning in a singular direction, and when it reached noon, he would turn around and return. The next day, Kaladil would choose a different direction and repeat. With the front gate of Second Chance as a starting point and the surrounding area as a rough cone or fan-like shape, this process would allow him to systematically work through the surrounding area. True, nothing about this process had been quick or easy - it had been going on for three days now, and Kaladil had not reported back with anything -aside from descriptions of some strange animals he'd seen in the distance- but it was steady. Erilda was certain it would pay off soon.
At least, that is what she told herself as she made her way to the gate. The new barrier surrounding their little community was a cruder thing than she would have liked, crafted from the rocky ground beneath and molded by magic. Still, it stood taller than any man and likely taller than any beast that would trouble them. It was thick too, it's width was twice the length of her hand. Again, it was not pretty, and Erilda hoped it would eventually be replaced with something more aesthetically pleasing, but it was strong, and that would do for now.
"Come to check in again?"
Erilda looked up, startled by the suddenness of the voice, and frowned when she saw Aratte crouched on the wall. Her long, tan cloak and Erilda's own mental wanderings had made the Bosmer practically invisible.
"I'm clearing my thoughts," Erilda replied curtly. "And what are you doing here? Don't you have plants to tend to?"
"I have tended to them. They aren't going anywhere. And with one of our own out into a strange land, I'd rather spend time keeping watch for Kaladil than watch flowers continue to do nothing," Aratte explained, eyes fixed on the horizon. "If he runs into trouble, one of us being able to spot him might be the difference between life and death. I don't know about you, but I'm not keen to lose anyone. Especially not after being here for under a month."
To a great frustration, Erilda had nothing to say to that. There are other two guards kept watch, yes, but there was only so much two men could do. And, as a trained archer, Aratte's eyesight was near unmatched.
'Then again, would she be showing the same concern if it was Norile or Viryni out there?' Erilda wondered.
She had often observed Aratte's unusual fondness for Kaladil; where the girl usually went out of her way to avoid unnecessary conversation, she'd willing to seek out the guard for company and even ask if he'd like to sit by her at mealtime. In some ways, Erilda found this amusing. As cold and detached as Aratte could be, she still felt the warm blooms of young love. On the other hand, Erilda thought she might need to squash anything growing there quickly. They were here to work, not to foster romantic or sexual relationships. And the gods forbid the girl end up with child!
"How long do you plan to be out here?" Erilda asked. It was late in the day already, and Kaladil should have turned around some hours ago. Unless something occurred, they'd be seeing him on the horizon soon.
'So long as nothing happened...' Erilda shuttered, forcing that thought out of her head. Kaladil was an impressive young mage, strong and intelligent. More than that, his skill with a blade was nearly as exceptional as his mastery of elemental magic. Nothing in this land should be a threat to him. 'No, everything will be fine. It will have to be. Both for our own good and for the people of this land.'
Instead, she forced herself to think of how amusing Aratte's fussing would be when Kaladil returned. Would she wipe the dirt from his face and cloak? Or even rush to fetch him some food and drink?
"How long are you planning to st-" Aratte cut herself off, standing up as her body went tense and alert.
Erilda went tense. "What's wrong?"
"I see Kaladil," Aratte said, "He has his horse in full gallop... and someone is on it with him."
"Oh dear..." Erilda whispered.
What could cause this? Were they prepared? Who was with their guard? Was this part of a trap? When- No, Erilda shook she shook herself back to the present. Second Chance needed their leader, and that was her.
"Viryni, open the gate!" she shouted at the young Dunmer guard, who jumped to attention as she rushed in his direction with long, purposeful strides.
It took him a moment to process the order, yet soon he was sliding the security bar free to open the large door- made of thick wood and reinforced with steel bars. It was heavy, and, more importantly, it was strong. Strong enough to buy time in case of an invasion.
"Leader Grayiuth, what's wrong?" Viryni sputtered as the gate opened just wide enough for a horse to ride through. When he tried to continue, Erilda raised a hand to stop him.
"Brother-in-Arms Kaladil approaches with another person," old Norile replied for Erilda as he nimbly hopped down from the watchtower. "Prepare yourself, young Viryni. We know not what is about to befall us."
The head guard was the second oldest member of Second Chance, surpassing Erilda by nearly sixty years and falling short of Tanil Caemthar by another forty. He spoke little, though his decades of experience on the battlefield meant his words were always given appropriate weight.
Erilda shouted at the nearest body to spread the word that they might be facing an attack. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Viryni and Norile both pull their blades. Erilda readied a frost spell, prepared to do her part in any battle. It had been years since she'd seen proper combat, but years as a battlemage for the Diminon did not fade easily.
Ten breaths could have passed before Kaladil galloped through the gates and passed them on his dun gelding. Or perhaps it was ten thousand. Time was difficult to calculate when one was expecting danger. Yet Kaladil shot past them all the same, pulling the horse to a stop and leaping from it. The look on his face was of worry, and a frantic sort of aggression, yet the confused glance he gave at his fellow guardsmen's drawn blades told Erilda that he had not meant to alarm them.
"She needs treatment immediately!" Kaladil said, somewhat breathlessly.
He was handsome, in a strapping young soldier sort of way. Erilda could understand Aratte's attraction to him, even if she did not share it. It had been a long time since strapping young soldiers had held any appeal to her. Still, he was tall, as all Altmer were, but broader in the shoulders and chest than most of their kin. There was also the oddity of his coloring. While his skin possessed the appropriate golden sheen, his hair was coal black, and his eyes an intriguing silverish blue. Gossip indicated these came from a bit of mixed ancestry, but the guard had never commented on it to Erilda. And, for the task at hand, Erilda did not care to investigate.
"Who?" she asked, letting the magic fade from her fingertips, and her anxiety fade away as Viryni shut the gate behind them. With the excitement, the words of Aratte and Norile escaped her mind.
"Her!" Kaladil pointed a finger back at his saddle, where a small, slender figure had been slung across the back of it like a sack of potatoes.
A sack of potatoes with long, messy hair.
Erilda swore and rushed to the horse, who skittered back, frightened by her sudden movement. Not wanting to risk the beast rearing up, she pulled the figure into her arms and knelt down so as to better examine it.
It was a girl-child, though Erilda could not venture to guest at her age. It was too hard with humans. Older than a true child, perhaps, but likely too young for marriage. Not that anyone would be too enthusiastic about marrying this particular human, sorry sight as she was.
Under a general layer of grime, mess, and assorted scrapes and scratches, the girl's skin was reddened and blistered, likely from the harsh sun that constantly beat down over this land. Erilda shifted until the pitiful figure's head was rested in her lap -a position that allowed her to press two fingers against the pulse point of the girl's neck. There she found a weak, if fairly steady pulse. And that, at least, was good news - especially since a pass of the hand over the child's lips sensed soft, unsteady puffs of breath.
"She's barely alive," Erilda hissed. Looking up and around at the small crowd of onlookers who'd gathered around, she caught Oisilo Nereth eye and hissed at him, "Go! Gather everyone. This girl needs help, and it may require all of us."
The Dunmer nodded and scrambled off to fulfill her orders as Erilda returned to her examination.
"Cracked lips," she mumbled to herself, brushing her thumb over the girl's mouth before using it to leverage her mouth open. "Cracked lips and a dry tongue. Dehydration, just as I feared."
Dehydration was a strange beast. It killed quickly, terribly, and without mercy. Yet it was also simple enough to treat and recover from, particularly if one was young and reasonably strong.
Moving a hand up the closed eyes, Erilda pried one open to reveal a hazy ring of gray. The pupil responded to the sudden bombardment of light, however. Still, the girl did not wake, she did not even stir. And, if Erilda was a betting woman, she'd wager it had something to do with the large, inflamed gash on her forehead that was filled with dirt and congealed blood.
'Head injuries are dangerous. If she's been unconscious since getting that, I fear extensive brain injury. Treating that will be priority number one.'
A blur of green and tan pushed through the crowd and, before she knew it, Aratte was crouched next to her.
Small fingers traced the girl's forehead before withdrawing quickly.
"Her fever is monstrous, it needs to be lowered immediately!" Aratte cried before looking up at Kaladil. "Where did you find her, Kal?"
The guard jerked his head in the general direction from which he came. "About half a day's ride from here, I noticed some strange birds circling above a rock outcropping. I would have ridden right by it without thought, except a flash of light caught my eye. I assume it was that-" he nodded toward a flat metal bracelet that encircled the girl's wrist "-catching the light. I rode closer and found this poor soul wedge among the rocks. How she got there, I cannot say, yet I do believe I was right in my assessment that she is in need of healing."
"She is indeed," Aratte agreed. She took the girl's thin arm in hand. "Her skin... I should start pulling ingredients for a balm to-"
"Her skin is bad, yes, but her head wound is more important. That and her dehydration are what need to be treated most immediately," Erilda said, cutting her subordinate off sharply.
More sharply than Erilda intended.
She felt eyes on the top of her head, staring down at her in judgment of every word that passed her lips. Erilda swallowed hard, and gave as much acknowledgment as she could force herself to. "A fever this bad will do the child's brain no good. It must be brought down immediately, just as you said."
Now she faced Aratte fully. "Mistress of the Greenhouse, I implore you to consult with our head alchemist to create a mixture that can soothe the pain of fever and thirst all at once."
That, at least, would give the Bosmer girl something to focus on.
Jewel-toned eyes narrowed in Erilda's direction, yet Aratte slowly nodded and stood to brush the dirt off her knees. "I'll find Voriron immediately."
Before she was even properly gone, Erilda turned to another figure in the crowd -Fiiyon Elsinfhar. "You! Take her inside, pass her off to Shaarie. Have her changed into a robe so I can continue my examination... And do not delay."
Fiiyon nodded rapidly before kneeling down to gently take the girl in his arms. Erilda's rolled at the sheer wrong way the child's left leg dangled, and she wanted to...
She pushed the thought away. Erilda had much to do.
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