The attendants carried He-Thing

into the hospital,

and Vaila followed.

Under the tall, airy ceilings,

the world quieted and dimmed —

people spoke in hushed tones,

and the candelabras were brighter

than the fading sun coming through

the lancet windows.

Upon seeing them,

a matron hurried over.

“What is this?” she asked.

The monk whispered into her ear

for a long minute, after which

the matron said, “I see.”

She sent the monk away

and turned to Vaila.

“You are the Huntress?”

“Yes.”

“Do not worry. We will see

to He-Thing’s wounds now.”

“But,” the matron said, pointing across the hall,

“Only the infirm

may pass through that archway.

You will have to wait.”

“How long?” Vaila asked.

“Nine, ten days, perhaps.”

Vaila was speechless.

“He needs time to heal,”

the matron explained.

“Otherwise, our work

will be for naught.”

“I understand,”

said Vaila, sighing.

“Why do so many

suffer outside?

The matron frowned.

”There is civil war north, in Basp.

And plague south, in Saluch.”

Vaila had not heard

of either of these calamities.

She looked down at He-Thing

and took his hand in hers.

He tried to smile at her

in reassurance,

but his eyes

were cloaked in pain.

“We will see each other again

soon,” he said weakly.

“Be brave,” she told him,

but was reminding herself

to do the same.

The attendants carried him away.

The matron smiled in compassion.

“There is a chapel here,

should you wish to pray.”

Vaila nodded.

She did wish to pray.

In the chapel,

there was an altarpiece

depicting

the Surrender of the Virgin,

when Lena, the Holy Mother,

accepted the seed of the All-Or-Nothing,

henceforth bearing the life

of Yeshua,

the One Son of the Great Father.

Vaila knelt before the altar,

and clasped her hands together.

O Holy Mother,

she spoke in her mind,

Please save He-Thing,

as I know

you have in the past.

I love him, I do,

I know I must not,

but I do,

I can deceive everyone

but You.

Vaila squeezed her eyes tight.

I know my vow, she thought.

I do not forget it.

But do I not serve You

and the All-or-Nothing

as best I can?

May I not desire

something for myself?

Vaila waited for a response.

But there was only silence.

Still without comfort

or answers,

Vaila exited the Hospital.

Night had fallen,

and the flickering torches

lining the courtyard

did little to abate

the darkness.

The gibbous moon

hid behind the clouds,

without even a whisper

of its purple light.

Vaila was in a daze,

but this fog evaporated

when the crowd noticed her reappearance

and got to their feet,

pointing at her

and muttering angrily.

“I’ve been here for three days!”

shouted a man to the others,

“That grag waved her sword

and was helped in minutes!”

“My daughter died an hour ago!”

cried a woman.

“Grag!”

“Black whore!”

Something struck Vaila’s left shoulder.

They were throwing rocks at her!

Her hand went to her rapier —

but what would she do?

Fight all of them?

She lifted her hands to cover her face.

A rock struck her forehead,

blood trickled into her eye.

Vaila tried to make her way

through the crowd.

She felt something heavy

crash into the back of her skull,

the edges of her vision darkened,

her legs gave out,

and she was on the ground.

They surrounded her

and the world

vanished.

to be continued...