Mellia — Weeper3
????, Fire Season, Season/Illusion Week
Fire Season/Illusion Week/Clayday/early morning after the Enlo stopped singing at the Cinder Fox village. [[[s01:session-42|Session 42]]]
It’s nice and dry in the temple, as opposed to the outside world. There’s an area set aside for the other Lightbringers in the Temple of Orlanth. There are chairs in that section and an altar to Chalana Arroy.
Mellia is meditating before the altar. Is that a smudge peeking out from beneath her robe at the collar?
Varanis doesn’t want to disturb the meditating healer. Instead, she makes her way to the altar of Orlanth and kneels before it.
She is tired though, so the focus she needs to meditate seems to elude her. She begins to fidget and after a short time, she murmurs something in Stormtongue, then moves to a seat to wait for Mellia.
While she waits, she studies the healer, her eyes drawn to the shadow at the edges of the collar on the white robe.
Mellia is not the world’s greatest meditator. She’ll stretch after a few minutes, see Varanis and take a seat next to her.
Mellia’s eyes are puffy and that shadow might be one beauty of a bruise.
“Mellia? What happened?” The Vingan shifts rapidly from tired to alert. Whatever Varanis came here for has been forgotten in light of her cousin’s condition.
Mellia says, “I intervened in a Hero Quest and got hit. Please don’t shout.”
Varanis opens her mouth to shout, then closes it again.
“Who hit you?” she asks, her voice low and deadly.
“Thank you,” says Mellia. “Silor wasn’t himself at the time and if I hadn’t partially blocked the slap, whoever he was would have killed the young Eril. Silor is beside himself with guilt, Varanis. I forgive him.”
The fury doesn’t fade.
“Varanis, please don’t go kill anyone. I was planning to tell you just as soon as I felt sure the gods weren’t going to curse us all.”
“And are they?” The words are tight with rage, but she’s holding herself calm.
“I don’t think so,” Mellia replies. “Or they already have. This quest is a curse, I swear.”
“I will endeavor to restrain myself, because you ask it of me. But only because you ask it.”
Mellia tries to hug Varanis, wincing as she does so. She must have been hit in the shoulder.
The Vingan growls softly, but returns the hug as gently as she can.
“Varanis, are you mad at me?”
“Mellia, love, why in the Lightbringers’ names, would I be mad at you?”
“Because I didn’t go tell you right away.”
“I was sleeping anyway. You’d have had to wake me. No,” she says, stroking her cousin’s hair. “I’m not mad at you. I’m not even sure I’m mad at Silor. This is all just…” She sighs and some of the tension seems to flow out of her with the breath. “There is a lot going on.”
“Yes, there is,” Mellia agrees. “Speaking of someone we’re both mad at, I talked to Xenofos yesterday.”
“I know. He came to see me.”
The Vingan looks tired again suddenly. “I lost my temper with him last night and told him to go mediate. He spent the entire night doing so. He came to see me again this morning and we had a long talk.”
“I hope the meditation did him good,” Mellia says. “I’m sure the talk did. How is he this morning?”
“I left him still sleeping. He only went to bed at Yelm’s rise.” Varanis yawns.
“Hmm. By the way, should Xenofos start complaining that his things are missing, especially his poppy, try to do as little as you can, please.”
Varanis raises an eyebrow but doesn’t ask any questions.
She yawns again.
“I think you should go back to bed. Want me to walk with you?”
“I was going to ask if you had anything to help me stay awake? There’s a lot to do and we will likely hit the road again soon. Normally, I’d be fine with guarding all night, but my sleep has been interrupted a lot lately.”
“I think there’s leftover bark tea from yesterday morning. If there isn’t, I can look for mint or talk to the healer here.”
“Thank you, that would be appreciated.” After a pause, Varanis asks, “Are there any quests that can heal fear?”
“None I know of,” Mellia answers. “There must be a way, though. Perhaps what is needed is not a lack of fear, but more courage.”
“The fear is like a disease. It clouds his judgement and steals his sleep. It festers in him and I don’t know how to get it to lessen its hold. There has to be a way.” Varanis sounds determined.
“Talking about it is the first step. It’s like treating a festering wound. First you lance it and drain the poison, then you try to heal the body.”
“It’s a good start, but he doesn’t believe it will help. Can it heal him to talk, even if he thinks it won’t?”
Mellia replies, “Yes, it certainly can. Talking to us, talking to people with similar problems and herbs can all help. I wish he’d stayed with Jaldis; she is much better at these things than I am.”
With a sigh, her cousin says, “He couldn’t stay away any more than I could.”
Mellia sighs too. “I will do the best I can, but Xenofos may have to do some research.”
Varanis nods and impulsively hugs Mellia again, being careful of the shoulder. “Why haven’t you healed that?” she asks.
“It’s not that bad. If we stay here today, I’ll heal it.”
Varanis raises an eyebrow at that. She places a gentle hand on the part of the bruise that she can see and concentrates.
There’s warmth and then the healing begins.
“Ah, that feels much better. Thank you.”
Varanis nods and suddenly yawns again.
“Let’s go find that tea,” Mellia suggests.