Mellia — Finding
????, Storm Season, Harmony Week
Storm Season, some time in Harmony Week. [[[s02:session-25|Session 25]]]
“A moving shoot of white that seeks for green.
Across the barren plain of mud and… I need a word that has a long sound in it. And I used seeks. It wouldn’t fit right. Maybe I could write a poem to being back home instead of being here. But you’re here. Across the roots and meter-schemes be damned. Across the plains of Prax through roots laid bare…
“I’m trying to evoke the idea of when white shoots turn green but the problem is I like you in white. What should I write about?”
Mellia smiles at Venlar. “My love, you could write about the huge stretches of sky. By now Orlanth probably wants a poem.”
“I could.” He spends just a moment looking at her. “And his body is impressive when you can see so much of it. Long limbs and mighty muscle, Sky-fighting, King Storm’s heir. Earth-loving pleasure-giver to farmers and wives. Warrior of a thousand arms, lover of a thousand rivers. Saviour of a thousand people, father of a thousand crops.” He sighs again, happily now.
“There you go. I am sure Orlanth will love it.”
“It’s needs a tune that isn’t just the normal modes, though. And I’m glad I didn’t bring a harp, but I want a harp now. I always think about music better when I’m playing it and can test it. Maybe if you sit on my lap and squeak musically, that would work.”
Mellia would actually try this.
It turns out he is too occupied with tuning his instrument to think about poetry, which he says later is a great disappointment.
“It’s not the end of the world, Venlar. I am sure you will get the song to Orlanth done sometime.”
A little more time passes, and Venlar is on guard that day, and then he comes galloping back, shouting something excited. And he falls off his horse as he tries to dismount. There is a nasty crack as he completely fails to jump clear and instead lands badly, half on a rock. Although he is composed on the ground, and says, “Mellia, could you?” carefully, he is obviously in pain, his ankle twisted far too far.
Pale like that, he looks a lot more like his uncle than his father.
Mellia runs to Venlar, screaming for help. Just how bad are his ankle, foot and leg?
His ankle is broken, the knee badly bruised or more. She has seen worse, but… this is Venlar.
People come running when a White Lady screams. Infara dashes up with the medical kit, well trained already. Others are moving in.
Mellia asks,”Do we have something to use for splints?” Before Mellia can heal Venlar, everything has to be in place.
“Bits of the tent would probably work,” Felgia suggests, and hurries to get them.
Infara does not yet know what the painkillers are, but she holds her hide cloak over Mellia’s bag to keep the contents dry, and waits patiently.
Mellia would poultice the bruise after she sets the ankle. Venlar gets painkillers.
He bites down on the numbing herb, with a polite, “Thank you.” He is ever-so under control, calm and precise. The crowd that is watching seems less worried now they have seen what has happened, but the caravan still stops just in case.
Mellia, of course, wants to use magic on the ankle – Venlar can’t lie in bed out here.
The magic goes from her, and into him, and the bone knits and the lower bruise vanishes, and he relaxes in relief. “Ow. That… well. I have done better.” He is shaken, miserable again that his body is failing him, but he looks at Mellia and smiles. “But this time you were with me. But… I hate that. And now you have to see it.”
Mellia replies, “If I minded seeing such things , I would not be a White Lady. Would you please be careful when dismounting?”
“I… yes. I was excited. But …” His eyes light up. “I heard Rajar’s name! The trail we’re on – we go around people politely but we exchange news! And I heard tell of him. He’s killed scorpions, and he might even be up ahead!”
Mellia beams! “I hope we can see Rajar!”
“We should… well, it’s rainy, but I could go ahead. Or we could ask about scouts.”
“Let’s ask about scouts. If the others are with him., they should be easy to see.”
“They’ll be on the trail…” Venlar almost leaps up to get onto his horse, then remembers himself and mounts slowly, trotting off with his concentration on the path before him, and not Mellia.
Mellia blows Venlar a kiss. The children get told about Mellia’s friends until Venlar gets back.
Venlar is back in about twenty minutes. “I sent a message,” he says. “They were obviously better riders than me.” He shrugs off his pride. “And that does let me stay with you. They were mostly on High Llamas. The Praxian guards, not the Sartarite ones.”
Mellia smiles. “I am glad you are back. I hope they are all together. I will be glad to see them again.”
“The man who passed only said Rajar and some companions. One was a unicorn but the others were on zebras and bisons and a rhino. I have never seen a rhino! I hope they come this way.”
Mellia says ,” The unicorn rider could be Nala. I hope it’s them.”