Mellia — Rounds In Boldhome
????, Fire Season, Season/Illusion Week
Context
1626 Fire Season/Illusion Week/Fireday/early afternoon [[[s01:session-44|Session 44]]]
Events
Mellia will go to the Temple of Humakt and ask to see the High Sword.
There’s a bit of a pause, and the initiate asks, “Emeritus High Sword or Acting High sword?”
“Oh! Emeritus High Sword, I suppose.”
Eril is seated in a simple spartan room when you enter. He does not rise, “You wished to see me?”
“Yes, Sword of Humakt. I’m glad to see you are recovering rapidly. Mind if I look at your wounds, especially your kidney wound?”
“Oh, of course. Yes, please do.”
Mellia will help Eril lie down on the bed, if he needs the help. She definitely looks at the wounds, especially the kidney wound. How are they healing? Are they infected? Has Eril been stressing his stitches?
The wound is healing in. There’s a little sign the stitches have been stressed- he’s more up and mobile than Irillo, but not excessively so.
“You look splendid,” Mellia tells Eril, “but you need to rest more. You are in danger of pulling your stitches out. I also want you to drink lots of water and tea.”
“Alas, I cannot do as you request for the first part. There are too many things I must attend to. As to the second, yes, of course.”
“If you pull those stitches loose,” Mellia warns, “the only thing you’ll be attending to is making a bloody mess of the room. Sartar will not fall if you lie down a little. That wound was made with a piece of The Wound Chalana Arroy Could Not Heal. You must heal without the aid of magic.”
“I understand. Thank you, White Lady. You are most attentive, and any unfortunate results will be nobody’s fault but my own.”
Mellia compresses her lips. For a moment, her shoulders tense and move upward, as if she’s about to throw up her hands. Mellia relaxes and asks, “May I distract you with a question and a piece of information?”
“Of course.”
“First, are you planning to kill all the questers, or just my cousin Varanis?”
“Orlanth alone is killed in the Myth.”
“Thank you,” says Mellia. “I think you should know that you have a niece and two nephews, triplets. All three are deeply touched by Death. One of them, Venlar, looks exactly the way you did when young, down to the scar near his eye.”
“That is very interesting. Very much so. Thank you.”
“You are most welcome. I’ll be back tomorrow. Remember, rest a bit.”
“Thank you, I shall.”
Mellia nods, curtseys (if that’s appropriate) and goes to the temple of Chalana Arroy in hopes that Irillo is there.
He is, and reported as just up.
Mellia is all smiles when she sees Irillo. “Hello! I hear you are being sensible. It is good that you are up.”
He gives a wry smile, “Trying anyway. Hurts like hell still and I’m not built to be heroic. “
“It would. I want you to walk a little perhaps every hour, but rest the rest of the time. Feel up to a few steps now?”
“I think so.”
Mellia offers Irillo her arm and begins to walk him down the hall. “Just a little way and back. This helps your body heal and gently stretches the forming scar tissue. What can I tell you? There’s not much news.”
“Under the circumstances, that’s probably a good thing.”
“It is. Everyone is hoping you’ll recover soon. Poor Xenofos probably spent the afternoon writing letters for people. I talked to him about the Dragonrise. As it turns out, I was there, but probably much further back.”
“Lucky you! I was trying to mind my own business in Pavis!”
Mellia smiles. “Seeing the dragon was like seeing lightning, both beautiful and terrible. I wonder if Xenofos feels guilty and that’s why he has nightmares.”
“Or just terror! I mean, I’ve seen the gouges of its passing in the landscape, and that is a thing of horror!”
“He was with the cavalry and so much closer to the dragon,” Mellia agrees. “If I remember correctly, dragons can kill with fear alone.”
“Well, I hope you can help him work through it. I’m sure the White Lady can heal minds as well as bodies.”
“I hope so too. I’m much better at healing bodies. Speaking of which, let’s get back to your room so I can look at all those wounds.”
“Of course.”
Mellia escorts Irillo back to his room, then examines his wounds, especially that nasty kidney wound. How is Irillo doing?
He’s healing well. Eating well, it’s looking clean, and as if nature is doing its thing.
Mellia smiles. “Keep up the good work,” she tells Irillo once the bandages are all changed. “You’re doing great. I’ll be back tomorrow.”
