NaNoWriMo 3

Our forces are waiting orders to the East of the Kingdom, awaiting news from inside. It seems our spies have had some luck inciting some anger from the inside, but simply not enough! If we should attack now, we should still have to fight the Kingdom, and that would be no good. We wish to conquer them as peacefully as possible. Keeping soldiers there for extended periods of time to keep the peace would be detrimental to our own borders.
-Note to the Head Advisor of the Shim Nation

The Prince’s recovery seemed incredibly long to both of them. Kirn was irritated by the sheer boredom of sticking around in one place and having nothing to do but silently mock his partner in vigil, while the Priestess was forced to spend her time with him and enduring the silent hatred that seethed from Kirn. The half-breed had the option of leaving once in a while, to get new bandages or check on other patients. The captain that had stopped Kirn checked up on him once in a while to ensure that he was doing his duty to the Crown.
The priestess had attempted some sort of piece once in a while, by bringing a book and placing it on the small table between them, or by bringing an amusement of some sort- there was a paper on a string that created the illusion of a dancing man when spun around quickly enough, or the magicked glass that shone beads of colored light around the room when tapped twice. Kirn dismissed them like he dismissed the Priestess- something to be tolerated but not fully interacted with. Whether he hurt her feelings, though, he could almost never tell. Sometimes he got the feeling that she was inwardly mocking him for being so pigheaded. Other times she was like a brick wall, impossible to read. It was a relief in many ways, because the more stone-like she was, the less need he felt to try and bug her. Interaction was not in his plans.
Neither was it for anyone else, it seemed. His eyes caught the little trips and tugs she got as she entered and exited, if there were other people there. The little shine of metal clued him into her discretionary removal of a pin that had been placed in her robes. That had made him wince with a touch of sympathy. That hadn’t been an uncommon trick when he was a youth, and even now the occasional tailor’s pins made his life a little miserable. He quickly straightened his face, though, unwilling to let her know about his little sympathy.
It was amazing how tiring it was to keep it up, though. Kirn wasn’t skilled at being angry at others, and not for long if they did manage to get on his bad side.
The fourth day had him debating on what to say to her. A small something, a comment on the weather… His eyes left his own hands to glance over at the girl- no, woman, as he had discovered on the second day when she had pulled back her hood. Her features were youthful, but the signs of maturity were there in the lines of her lips and how her eyes seemed to bore into his soul with a strange insightfulness. And that was what he seen for a few mere moments, as she had brushed back her hair into a braid.
It made him feel strange to know that he had been mistaken about her in one way. Another thing he had come to realize was that she was somewhat pretty, despite the fullness of her face and nonexistent coloring. Ghosts made more of an impression, except for those deep blue eyes of hers. They made him think of the stormy ocean, almost gray and quite large for her face. If she hadn’t had those to give her an innocent look (marred by their blankness), then he would be quite happy to think she was no more than a handy decoration that would leave in the mist one morning and disappear from the thoughts of everyone there.
Disappearing, though, was not on the menu. She stayed firmly there as his eyes glanced from the wall across from him to her hood and the nose that was peeking out from underneath it. He cleared his throat, feeling a little nervous about what he was going to do. It wasn’t every day he spoke to one of these, after all.
She made no movement of any sort, and that both bothered and relieved him. Was he able to just pretend that he wasn’t… No. No, he wasn’t. Another throat clearing, and he could see her eyes gleaning from underneath her hood like an owl’s in the night. Well, if he was going to be more accurate, like an owl’s during a snowstorm, but that was neither here nor there.
“I, uh, was wondering how the weather was out there.” Wow. So creative. Kirn frowned after it was out, thinking that it was a stupid question to ask. It wasn’t like he was going to be seeing it anytime soon, and he could tell what it was like, more or less, from the sounds outside and the light that managed to filter in. The second day had been ridiculously stormy, and the drizzle of rain on the tent had nearly driven him insane. Boots splashed in mud and various swears made themselves heard through the cloth. Even if it had been muffled, the flashed of light that streaked across the sky had had it obvious that the storm was raging until well into the evening when the Priestess had retired. It was nicer today, though he could still hear various things and people splashing, though the lightness inside where the Prince was made it obvious that it was sunny.
No wonder she looked at him oddly when he asked that- it was completely unnecessary.
It didn’t seem to stop her from hesitantly answering, though. “It’s fine.” Kirn noted a roughness to her tone that indicated she was from the Northern reaches of the kingdom. They all spoke a little oddly up there. No wonder, since it was closer to the Outer Kingdoms than it was the Capital City. Poor likthen. It was small wonder that such a place had popped out such a creature as she.
“When should the Prince be awakening?”
It seemed like the next logical thing to ask. No one had said a word about it, not within his hearing at least. Perhaps in hers, though, he mused, recalling a quiet scolding occurring outside when she had left the first night.
There was a pause as she turned to look at the Prince. It seemed a little odd, since she had the time to look her fill these last few days.
“Today or tomorrow.”
He waited for some elaboration, but none was forthcoming on her end. “Why has it taken so long?”
“Blood loss and shock.” This reply was far quicker than the last one. She had treated his injury, she would know that far more definitely.
“Was it really that terrible?”
“It was more difficult to treat than most of the injuries here. You came from father away, and he had been stabbed in a dangerous place. You see, the vein was-“
There was a deliberate and abrupt cutoff. Her hand had started to raise the blanket, but it promptly slipped back into her lap next to its partner. Kirn glanced at the Prince, then back at her. “It was important?”
“Yes.”
So she apparently wasn’t much of a talker? Kirn couldn’t blame her, not with the way he had been locking her out these last few days. It hadn’t been sporting of him. She probably received the same treatment with others, though, so it wasn’t like he had gone out of his was to make her miserable. Kirn felt the muscles in his check twitch with a frown. Why did she need to be upset and standoffish when he was trying to make some conversation? It was better than others were likely to do!
“And? We’ve been here for a few days. Aren’t you craving a little conversation?”
Her slight slump disappeared. Krin knew he had gotten to her. However, not a sound escaped her. It frustrated him even more. His mouth opened once again to spout something out, but she managed to beat him to it.
“I’m used to the quiet. I am a half-breed, as you have noticed- otherwise you would have started conversation with me two days ago. Not many would like to associate with me. I’m sure that you know that well enough.” Her voice was strained, making it more difficult to understand her through her accent. Kirn didn’t doubt that she was holding back great emotion, though whether it was tears or shouting or both, he could not tell. It didn’t really matter.
He was quieted, and looked back down at his hands, rubbing them together and examining the rough ridges of his fingernails. “Sorry.” It was short and probably very inadequate, but that was the best he could get out at the moment. Shame made his face flush slightly, giving his already dark cheeks a bluish blush.
The silence stretched on. It was like waiting for a pond to freeze. Perhaps they froze faster than this, Kirn mused, growing more uncomfortable and ashamed by the moment. What else was there to do but wait for her response?
Finally, a slight sigh relieved the silence. The brough that tinged the Priestess’ words touched on his ears, almost imaginary in their volume. “It’s fine. I do not wish to bother you, though, so if I stop and it irritates you, then please just tell me to continue.” It was cautious and hesitant, but a relief from the tension that had been between them the last few days. Preferable, even.
Kirn let his eyes slide back to her, not wanting to be obvious about looking. “So what is your name?” As much as it made him cringe to realize, he had been paying no attention to what others called her. Not that he had cared at the time, but she was somewhat important if she was taking care of the Prince.
“Nia, Sylph Nia.” Her introduction of her name first made him tilt his head a little at the humbleness she showed with that action. Probably necessary, considering it was hard for half-breeds to get around if the didn’t lower themselves. It was still disconcerting to hear that mixed with the title she gave. Syphs were supposed to be the highest level of Healers within the Order, and thereby accorded great honor. He couldn’t hide the slight motion he made out of instinct, to create the sign of respect with his fingers. His hands had lifted in order to make it, and his fingers were twitching. At the same time, with her name first, it made him unsure of what action he should take.
He decided against any. “You look very young to be a Sylph.”
“I am. I’m apparently the second youngest ever accorded the honor.”
“The Goddess Mishta being the first.” Kirn nodded to himself. He was familiar with that. Mishta had been the youngest, at the age of twelve becoming a Healer of renown, and tales of her abilities had spread far and wide.
Nia tugged a lock of pale hair outside of her hood so that she could twist it around her finger. “We call her Nimara where I come from. My parents named me after her.” A slight turn of her head, and Kirn could see her slight but pained smile. “It seems they were right to do so, yes? Though she never aged once reaching her peak at sixteen, and I have gone beyond that, I’m sure.”
“Ever so slightly,” he acknowledged.
“I received it when I turned twenty, nimah, a special age back home. It wasn’t given lightly.”
Her words held a lot of meaning, from the mention of her home, to how hard it must have been for those within the Order to give her such an honor. It wasn’t exactly something that would go over well with the King or his government. The age gave him an idea of where she came from, though.
“Usually, aren’t girls taken by the age of three? It must have been longer than that before you were accepted. Six or Seven, perhaps? From around the Rullside Mountain?” It was a rough guess, since her accent was not strong enough to give him someplace definite, but the fact that she had it instead of the accent those in the Order usually had from the cloister where they grew up spoke ages.
“Six, when my mother was about to birth my brother. She died, and Father could not take care of me. So… I was received. With a donation, of course, to the Rullside sect of the Order, who kept me for a year or two until I could be taken to the main Cloister.”
“And… your parents…” It must have sounded quite prying, but Kirn was curious as to who would be audacious enough to bear and raise not one but two half-breeds. Unless the unborn sibling had a different father, of course.
She shrugged slightly. “Mom was the human, father the elf. And when mother was dead, he took my brother and left me on the doorstep.” There was no real clue to how she felt about it in her voice. “Don’t remember their names, now. Ach, it was long ago. I’m twenty-three now, and have a good life.” Her hands had reached for the cover over the Prince so that she could check the wound once more. It was about time for that, Kirn noted.
“Hey, I’ll get some lunch. I’m hungry.” He stood and stretched, hearing no sound of either approval or rejection from her. The Priestess tended to be like that, he had noted, getting utterly involved in taking care of her patient. It was good, it meant he really was getting good care, and that was more important than anything else at the moment. He figured that he could leave her with the Sylph with the Prince for a few moments. She would never dare to kill him, not with that level of skill.

The tent closure swept aside to let in the searing light of day when Kirn left. It was kind of him to offer to get her meal, she admitted to herself, unsure of why the elf was being so kind at the moment. After the days of silence, it was odd and put her on edge. The Sisters in the Order were very good at hating her all the time. They didn’t soften in the face of her pain or tears. Not all of them. She let a small smile grace her face as she thought of the few friends she had made in her travels. The pill she pulled from her satchel of herbs and medical tools slipped to the tips of her fingers as she placed it in the Prince’s mouth, over his tongue, then massaged his throat to try and get him to swallow. He did without chocking which relieved her.
After that she was able to unwrap the bandages without worry of him shifting, treating the stitches and washing of the medical paste, replacing it with a different set of herbs because of the healing that had occurred. The would hardly looked visible, but the area would be dangerously tender and able to rip at a start. The same was applicable to his organs and muscles. She would have to warn his next Healer about it.
When she stepped back to sit down again, the smell of something tasty reached her nose over the scent of the herbs. She glanced over and saw a plate of spiced vegetables and roasted meat, along with an intrigued-looking Kirn. He gave her a slight smile, which she hesitantly returned. She hadn’t really believed he’d be back with anything more than some bread. Nia almost couldn’t hide her surprise, but dug in anyway, savoring how it tasted after missing breakfast to come here this morning. Her hunger nearly had her thanking Kirn over a mouthful of the greens, but she thanked her lucky stars that she hadn’t forgotten her manners like that. Her Superior would have been ashamed of her.
It marked the beginning of a new, amiable silence, occasionally punctuated with his questions about her and the Order. He never went beyond the superficial, such as favorite color, how she felt about the Order. It was pleasant and Nia welcomed the kidness with which he spoke and asked her things. Hope started brewing that perhaps she had made a new friend here.
The last two hours passed in a tired silence. She had changed the herbs once more, and her eyes drooped. “I will leave you to rest, now,” Nia noted as the bell for the 8th hour rang from the town. Kirn nodded tiredly, the cot he had been using catching his eye from the corner he had folded it up in. She slipped into the cool night air and headed straight for the Sister’s tent, feeling naked as she passed by the eyes of the few guards that patrolled. It was safer in the Prince’s tent, a haven from people that she had relished far too much. A vague feeling of sorrow filled her as she thought about how the Prince would be leaving soon enough.
Kirn had moved to the cot to open it the moment she had left, not wanting Nia to feel unwanted or rushed. The rustle of the cotton over wood almost masked the breathy mumble behind him. He turned, realizing what exactly that meant. The Prince’s eyes were open, but slightly glazed over as his lips moved. He moved to the Prince’s side to try and hear him, aid him how he could. Kirn’s ear almost touched the Prince’s mouth to try and catch the words properly.
“The ghost… Come for me? Am I dead?” He sounded worried, almost panicked.
Kirn lifted his head and shook it. “No, my Prince. She is no ghost, just a half-breed healer. She saved your life.”
“Ghost healed me? Breeding healers?”
“No, no, she… Sire, please, sleep. You are safe here, alive.” Kirn didn’t want to leave the Prince’s side until he was sure that he would not hurt himself accidentally, in a fit of fear. It didn’t look like it would take long, from the disjointed comments that were being spoken. Thankfully, Kirn was right. The Prince closed his eyes after a few more moments and fell back into the sleep from which he had awakened. Kirn took the opportunity to stick his head out and motion to a guard that the commander should be awakened and the head of the Order here notified of what had happened. Within minutes both had arrived. The head Sister fussed over the details of the awakening quietly, checking the state of his consciousness and sleep, while the commander informed her that he would begin transportation back to the castle on the morrow.
Without Nia as the healer in charge.
No fuss was made over this arrangement.