Chapel Guest Quarters, After Dawn, Hangover Day
Picorna lay on a cot in the infirmary, paralyzed by the pain and the drugs as the doctors looked down on her. At the periphery of her vision, she could see the thin knife sticking out of her chest, quivering back and forth ever so slightly as she gulped in tiny breaths of air. They were arguing, not about how to treat her, but about what she had done to deserve her fate.
"...What she gets for spying."
"...Imagine! The attendant to the first sister dancing with a common stable lad!"
"...Consorting with light-skirted servant girls who haven't a bit of regard for morals!"
"...Helping to perpetuate this blasphemous tradition of 'Hangover Day'!"
"...Neglecting her duties!"
"...Losing the Spirit Speaker!"
"...Sleeping late on a Holy Day!"
Suddenly as if all in agreement, the doctors reached down together to grip the handle of the knife. Picorna tried to scream, tried to warn them they had to leave the knife in or she'd bleed to death, but she had no breath to cry out with. All she could manage was a sickly rattle as the knife was pulled free and her blood gushed forth like a fountain.
Picorna awoke to find that she had plenty of breath to scream with, enough to send Sister-Aide Nyllen jumbing back a step.
"Picorna... Are you all right?"
"I... I..." Picorna reached down to her chest, checking herself for injury before managing to gasp, "I'm all right. Nightmare. I'm sorry."
Nyllen came closer and patted the girl's shoulder. "You don't need to do this, you know. I'll tell them you're ill. It's close enough to the truth."
Picorna sat up, "Am I in time?"
Nyllen nodded, "You've an hour to ready yourself. The First Sister is already up and preparing for the ceremony. She had a long night of it too. Oh, and she asked me to tell you that Lord Slade is alive, and we've hope he'll recover fully. He isn't out of danger yet, but you should know that your actions are a big part of what saved him."
Picorna nodded, unsure of how to respond to that. Nyllen didn't wait around. She tossed Picorna's ceremonial robes onto the bed and returned to her morning work.
"...What she gets for spying."
"...Imagine! The attendant to the first sister dancing with a common stable lad!"
"...Consorting with light-skirted servant girls who haven't a bit of regard for morals!"
"...Helping to perpetuate this blasphemous tradition of 'Hangover Day'!"
"...Neglecting her duties!"
"...Losing the Spirit Speaker!"
"...Sleeping late on a Holy Day!"
Suddenly as if all in agreement, the doctors reached down together to grip the handle of the knife. Picorna tried to scream, tried to warn them they had to leave the knife in or she'd bleed to death, but she had no breath to cry out with. All she could manage was a sickly rattle as the knife was pulled free and her blood gushed forth like a fountain.
Picorna awoke to find that she had plenty of breath to scream with, enough to send Sister-Aide Nyllen jumbing back a step.
"Picorna... Are you all right?"
"I... I..." Picorna reached down to her chest, checking herself for injury before managing to gasp, "I'm all right. Nightmare. I'm sorry."
Nyllen came closer and patted the girl's shoulder. "You don't need to do this, you know. I'll tell them you're ill. It's close enough to the truth."
Picorna sat up, "Am I in time?"
Nyllen nodded, "You've an hour to ready yourself. The First Sister is already up and preparing for the ceremony. She had a long night of it too. Oh, and she asked me to tell you that Lord Slade is alive, and we've hope he'll recover fully. He isn't out of danger yet, but you should know that your actions are a big part of what saved him."
Picorna nodded, unsure of how to respond to that. Nyllen didn't wait around. She tossed Picorna's ceremonial robes onto the bed and returned to her morning work.