The Order of the Sisters is one great importance- for, as they are a religious Order, so they also tend to the Needs of the Nation. To incur their wrath is to incur the wrath of the People. For what doctor will treat without payment? What person will open their doors with trust and love and without discrimination? This has always been our honor and our joy.
-History of the Order, written in Year 746
The night was unusually dark. Clouds were rolling in from the West, and flashes of light emphasized the height and breadth of the approaching storm. Nia couldn't hear the thunder yet. It made the scenery eerie. The stillness of the camp combined with the odd weather made everything seem surreal. It was almost enough to make her lose herself within it. Almost- but not quite. There were murmurs coming from the tents behind her where the wounded were treated. Were the patients already getting ready for morning? It seemed unlikely. Dawn was still a few hours away, and even those in deep pain would be catching what little rest they could at this time of night.
Mainly soldiers were ensconced within the oiled canvas, but there were also a few villagers that had been caught in a rather nasty fire that had occurred a few days ago. Nia had been treating the worst of them. Thankfully, they were unconscious for most of it. The looks she got when they weren't were not easy to bear. Her cloak provided some protection when people didn't look too closely, but during the day it wasn't practical to have it up. She was exposed to everything.
The night afforded her protection in allowing her to draw the hood over her head and obscuring the more obvious details of her heritage in darkness. It didn't hide her from the others in her Order, though. Quickened breaths and pounding feet made Nia turn her feet towards the approaching woman. "Nia! We have a new arrival! Get in there and treat him!" The woman was Nia's superior, and the remaining moonlight gleamed off of the white robes that were revealed by the fluttering of her cloak. "As quickly and discreetly as you can, girl. Hear me?" The question was sharp but quiet, a concession to the time and the patients they were near.
A tip of Nia's head, and the elf disappeared into the tents to make sure the other patients were not disturbed by the commotion that was stirring on the other side of the camp. Various noises alerted Nia to the fact that this didn't seem to be an ordinary soldier. Why would the camp guards flock to see the newcomer? Her sandaled feet moved quietly over the grass, unwilling to anger her superior more than the woman already had been. Nia could feel guilt pooling in the depths of her stomach. She hadn't supposed to be out at this time of night. There were rounds to do, medicines to brew and mix, fevers to calm...
It mattered not at the moment. There was someone that needed her help. The idea of dithering around like a halfwit never occurred to her, unlike some of the apprentices assigned her. In retrospect, that perhaps had more to do with Nia herself than a lack of focus and drive on their parts, but because of the circumstances it was difficult to tell. She shoved back the hood that had protected her face as she approached the entrance to the surgery tent. Her hands wrapped themselves in the snow-white crown that capped her head, drawing back her hair back so that it wouldn't get in the way. The paleness that blended into her skin like snow into a spirit made her instantly recognizable to the two that guarded the entrance to the surgery.
They begrudgingly ordered the odd assortment of soldiers away so that she could pass. It wasn't that difficult, as once her presence was made known some stumbling back from her and others disappearing into their own quarters to avoid her. Her eyes merely flickered over them as she kept striding towards and into where her patient was now lying. Two of her regular assistants were slathering disinfectant cream over their hands as Nia dropped her cloak into a corner of the tent. They were unusually attentive but still couldn't help but slow down once they saw her, she noted. Her own eyes locked onto the man who had come in with the bleeder. "Out. You're going to be in the way, here, and you're filthy. There are baths-"
"I can't! I can't leave him until I know he'll be okay!" the elf burst out desperately. He took two steps towards her, but could not bring himself to come any further. "You don't understand. If I don't, I could... I'll be... Please. Let me stay."
She had tied back her own robes and began disinfecting herself as the man spoke. "Then you will sit in the corner, stay out of our way, and be quiet."
"I won't do what you-"
"Yes, you will!" Nia snarled, her face transforming into a fierce mask of anger. It was no less effective this time than the few others she had used it. The elf closed his mouth and sat in the corner, on top of her cloak. It was probably out a small measure of spite, but as long as he was out of the way then it didn't matter where he set himself. Her also made her snap at her assistants to begin undressing the elf that was lying there, his skin having turned from the normal bruise-color that indicated health to a sickly shade of grey. Her own hands went for needle and gut, knowing that the bleeding had to be slowed before any serious assessment of the damage could be taken.
The eyes of the god of healing, Jikki, gleamed red in the lamplight, the statue having been placed at the head of the operating table. Her fingers searched the wound, their movements a prayer to the god that the elf might be saved. One of the assistants placed a strip of leather between his teeth and monitored how conscious he was. A vial of draught was ready to be administered if needed, but Nia gave the order to stay it unless absolutely necessary. His breathing was starting to become erratic as it was, and the draught always had the chance of making it worse.
The wound in his side bled, more so when her fingers dipped into the flesh to search out the nicked vessel or artery that was keeping the iron solution flowing from his body. It smeared her hand and trickled over the side of the table. She had to pause for a moment to order the assistant who had belatedly entered to scrub up and get bandages. Another order went out to prepare a powder to stimulate blood production. The elf would need it when this was over, if he survived it. Thankfully it wasn't more than a minute after that, that Nia found the source of the blood. There was a small squirt that stained her white robe, and made the elf in the corner cry out, startled and with a hint of fear. Thankfully, Nia didn't flinch from the sound. It was as if she couldn't hear it with her own blood pounding in her ears, creating a dull ringing that it was difficult to make anything out over. It was a small blessing.
Nia was nervous enough as it was. Her slick fingers nearly lost their grip on the needle, so she wiped them on the clean snow-white cloth that covered her body. It created a vaguely macabre imprint that recalled a scene of a murder that she had been to once upon a time. It allowed her to steady her hand and her nerves ever so slightly. One of the assistants moved to wipe her face, making sure that their skin did not touch hers but providing relief from the sweat that threatened to blur her sight and fall into the wound. As painful as it already had to be for the elf, as still as he was in unconsciousness, Nia didn't want to make it worse for him. Her fingers slid into his body once more, moving the small, short needle deftly into his flesh, feeling the warm liquid continue to spill into the wound from the nicked vein as she sewed it tightly.
It was partly through the touch of the wound and the slowing to the gradual end of the major bleeding that Nia knew she was done. It was no small relief to pull out and set the surgery needle aside. She motioned for a lamp to be drawn closer so that she could get a better idea of what other damage had been done, now that there wasn't any immediate danger of him bleeding to death. The assistant holding the powder to help the elf's body recover faster administered it while she proceeded to clean the injury with all the care she could muster, repairing an injury to his intestine (a serious injury, to be sure, but one that could heal in the right circumstances), and making sure that everything was set right before finally suturing him up.
Snatches of discussion reached her ears as she finished. Nia only caught bits and pieces, not minding what was being said until she was sure that she had done the best job she could on the elf before her. Her shoulders ached from leaning over him and hunching down. The heat from everyone's bodies combined with the firelight made the room oppressively stuffy. She wanted to order people out, but at this point knew that she would be ignored. The elf would live if the right treatment was kept up and infection didn't set in. Judging by the small commotion that was outside, the sound of which was both tense and panicked, Nia didn't think that there would be any issue with that.
Nia supposed the elf was some sort of general, though he looked rather young for it. That had to be the case for her to be called on and for everyone else to be making a fuss. Her suspicion was only confirmed as a dark hand clenched her shoulder and turned her around. No one said anything about it- not the assistants, who were cleaning the patient up and preparing him for removal to a private healing room, not her superior who had entered the room at some point and was staring at her darkly.
The soldier, noted as a high ranking one from the insignia on his shoulder, glanced over her face for a few long moments, taking in who she was and obviously disgusted by it. Nia had to struggle to keep her face impassive; though she could tell her eyes had narrowed for a short time. It wouldn't do to anger this one. "And you're the best they have? If he dies, believe me, it will be your head. Kirn!" the soldier barked at the elf in the corner. "You'll be attending His Majesty and ensuring his healing and safety."
There was nothing else to be said. Nia's superior's eyes informed her that it was time to leave, and Nia obeyed. Kirn remained behind to watch over the elf that had been revealed to be His Highness, the Prince.
It seemed a little surreal. Nia could feel the blood making her clothes stick to her body. The smell of it was making her sick, suddenly. She parted the cloth walls of the tent, between the surgery and the entrance, where spare robes were kept. The attendant looked at her expectantly. "I need... I need two sets of spare robes."
"I'm sorry, but we can only spare one." The attendant had a suspicious gleam in her eyes, surrounded by robes and bandages as she was. Nia barely felt the sting of the snub and took what she was offered. As long as it was clean, she wasn't going to make a fuss. She slipped out the attendant entrance so that she could avoid the small crowd that was now around the regular entrance. The baths would be open and free this time of day- since it was now day. Almost. The sun was creeping over the town and casting long shadows over the camp. The surgery hadn't seemed like it had taken that long, but then again she was always a little surprised by the time it took. Nia could get lost in the work and the concentration it took to do surgeries.
The baths were nothing special, not in camp at least. She knew that some soldiers would go into town for the public baths, but this was fine for her. They were just part of the nearby river, with cotton canvas draped around and divided into sections for men and women. Chilled by the water as she stepped in, it brought her out of the tired stupor that she had begun to fall into. She had operated today on no simple soldier. He had been the Prince himself! No wonder there had been so many people wanting to see what was happening. Shock and surprise made her shake a little. That she had been allowed to even be in his presence was something, but with that wound it had been necessary. No wonder her superior had been upset. No wonder at all...
The fear of what would happen if the Prince died made her shake harder than the water did. The only thing she could do was reach for the soap left on a nearby rock, and began to wash herself clean of the royal blood that stained her, both her body and her mind.
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Kirn never said that he couldn't be surprised. It still didn't mean that it hadn't been a shock when the half-breed had entered the surgery. A half-breed attending soldiers! Elves! What madness was taking the world? He hadn't seen one in ages, assumed that there weren't any outside of the other kingdoms. After all, what with the caste edicts, who would dare a child with mixed blood? There was no mistaking it, from the crown of white hair that layered over a deep brown, to the albino paleness of her skin. Human and elf blood mixed oddly in their broods.
She had been fierce, though, he had to admit. For a moment he had been as terrified of her as he had been the commander who had held his life on the line. It disgusted him to know he was that fearful. It disgusted him to know the Order had let her touch the Prince, the darling of the people. What would posses them to do so, knowing how the King felt about tradition? It had to be that she was the best healer there.
Everything started clicking. They had sent the Prince here because there was a better healer. The half-breed. It was the only explanation! It also angered him to know that there wasn't anyone better. Half-breeds were filthy to begin with, unable to fit in any world, wildly varying looks and abilities... it made them stick out and hard to specialize in trades. They threw the world out of balance. Humans farmed and did rough crafts. That was their lot in life. Elves did fine crafts and ruled. That was the way of things. It was no small relief to know that this mixed blood female was somewhere out of the way, but worried him that she was doing something so important.
Especially since now, both their lives depended on the Prince's survival. His eyes strayed over the still body of the Prince, illuminated by the growing morning light that was making its way through the cloth of the healing tent. This was most certainly something that couldn't make its way to the King. He would be furious. It was doubtful that anyone would share, though. No one was that stupid.
He sighed and slumped in his seat. This was going to be a long vacation, in the end of things. Kirn's only job would be to make sure that the healer didn't commit murder, since there would be plenty of guards making sure there were no intruders who could do the job. That would mean a lot of sitting and waiting and being bored. His eyes closed as he decided to get some sleep, exhausted from the frantic night.
------
Nia has a small room to herself in the tent for the Order. It wasn't out of honor or respect. Her eyes cast downwards as she passed her Sisters, aware of showing them respect. The things that happened otherwise were not pleasant to deal with. Thankfully, they would not bother her in her room when she escaped there, and that was no small blessing. Her heartbeat sped up as the cloth closed behind her, hiding her from view and the looks like daggers. There was a small book and quill in her small pack which she retrieved. A blank page was torn out, and she scribbled the facts of the incident down. This would come in handy, indeed.
Kirn had stuck around, resting, until the half-breed priestess had come in and insisted that his stink was unfit for her patient- as respectfully as she could say it, though Kirn still noted a hint of annoyance in her tone. However, what she said was true. He could infect the prince with the filth that was breeding on him. Kirn was dismissed to the baths, however reluctantly he did so. Exhaustion and the disgusting feel of his clothing against his skin convinced him to take the girl up on her offer. It was a quick matter since he was unwilling to leave the Prince with her for a prolonged period of time. Not after the charge placed on him.
It was sick, indeed, he thought to himself as he reentered the tent. The bath had washed away the rough grime that coated his body and the dried traced of blood on his back. The half-breed sat where he had; peeling a droon fruit like some domestic servant. The bright yellow peel curled into her lap in one long ribbon of color, revealing the savory pink flesh beneath. Kirn hesitated, his stomach clenching at the sight of it. It had been over a day since he had last tasted any food. The girl seemed aware of his thoughts, though her face remained strangely blank. She held the now-peeled fruit out to him. Kirn ignored it. Hungry as he was, there were certain lines he would not cross.
The fruit was placed on a small table that had been brought in, a certain concession made to the rank of the patient. The Prince, Kirn said to himself, feeling the wood of the chair pressing the print of its grain into his back. There was no small amount of awe in his thoughts of having made such a journey with the royal. Even if his life ended here, it was something of an honor to have gotten the Prince here alive, and made Kirn's chest swell with a touch of pride.
His ears rang with the memories of stories that had been told about the son of the King. There were few he had met that did not hold a strong opinion of him- either as someone who was going to lead the nation to a new, enlightened era, or rip the nation apart. That was the political side, though. Few could find fault in his personal life. The most recent story that was circulating was that the Prince had gotten engaged to a lady of low-ranking noble birth. It endeared him to those of lower rank and commoners, like Kirn himself. At the same time, the King and most of the high0ranking nobles were infuriated. The opposition was strong, and doubts about the Prince's ability to lead were being amplified.
From the silver gleam on the Prince's finger, Kirn supposed the rumor to be true. His hand reached for the fruit absentmindedly as he pondered what it could mean for the nation. Kirn wasn't that involved in politics, if he was going to be truthful to himself, but at the same time he did know something about his own nation.
The almost pucker-worthy juice filled his mouth slowly as he bit into the droon. The ranks in the society were solid, the foundation for what they had right now. And what they had right now was... wasn't doing them much good. It was the Order that gave the country and power right now, and that wasn't much. Them and their herbs. "A bitter medicine to swallow," Kirn muttered absentmindedly as he glanced over at the half-breed. She hadn't made a move from her own seat. If he hadn't seen her moving earlier, then her stillness would have made him think she was some sort of doll, a sick approximation of what a person should look like but the maker having failed in the most important ways.
Pity stirred in his chest for the girl. She was a little off in looks, mixing the high Elven cheekbones with the small, dark eyes of the humans that made her look more like a ferret than anything. It made her face look a bit puffy, though he supposed that it could also be something of puberty at work- the girl didn't look more than seventeen at most. However, if she had stronger Elven blood, that didn't mean much. It was a sad fate that had befallen the parents that had borne her, since she didn't even have the looks to be accepted into what higher-ranking Human families there were. They sometimes had pity for the half-breeds, but only took the comeliest and most likely to give them children close to their own looks.
The Order was the option for the females. They took anyone, as long as they showed the proper piety. Kirn inwardly scoffed at their devotion to the Gods of the land- a fat lot of good it did the ones like this. If the Gods had mercy, they wouldn't have been born. Ah, well. There was no cure for the follies of love.
His eyes had fixed on the girl for some minutes while his thoughts had run through his head. Her robes had stirred slightly from her breathing, while her eyes had stayed rather fixed on the Prince. It seemed that his gaze made her slightly uncomfortable, Kirn noticed with a smile, as she turned her head to look just past him. The lack of eye contact made Kirn more comfortable than he was when she was turning to look.
"If I am bothering you, then please feel free to retire to the soldier's quarters for a while. I'm sure they have a spare cot for you to rest on." The tone of her voice made it unclear as to whether it was a suggestion or an order. "I can wait here until you have rested your fill."
"And leave the Prince when I was ordered to watch him? I think not." There was both challenge and censure in his reply. The vague suggestion that he should leave his post and duty upset him. "I was ordered to protect him, and protect him I will. Your duty is to heal him, so the better suggestion would be for you to make your own rounds if you feel I am uncomfortable in your presence."
Thinned lips clued him into the fact that he had upset her slightly, which gave him a glimmer of satisfaction. Half-breeds should know their place, after all.
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