Memories Made But Never Lost - Ny'x Jan 31, 2019 21:06:48 GMT -5
Post by kevna on Jan 31, 2019 21:06:48 GMT -5
1 month before being SearchedNyxlin - Journeywoman Healer
The shimmering reflection showed her what she could already feel. Blood speckled her cheeks, and neck. Was there some in her hair? She couldn’t tell, the long locks were too dark, but she suspected the red sheen wasn’t all natural. Nyxlin grimaced, and began splashing her face, letting the water pour down her neck, soaking the round collar of her white tunic. Yellow and blood stained now she supposed. The brunette brushed wet locks behind her shoulders to soak the back of her shirt, and blinked her eyes awake, droplets of water flying from her eyelashes. She looked at herself again, wet hair pressed down her face, and most of the blood was washed off.
Guilt hit her with a pang after she realized her study of herself was keeping her from her patient. Her possibly dying patient. But her vanity ran out for a few more seconds as she splashed her face and scrubbed at her left cheek, where the last streak of blood still harbored on her skin. Then she stood from her crouched position, ducked inside her hide cover, stripping off the wet tunic and replacing it with another stained white tunic.
Nyxlin, refreshed and clean, moved her way back to the small beasthold, which looked more like a cothold. She pushed the door open without knocking, the main room had a table in it, and on the table lay her patient, unconscious. A young boy. His mother sat in her rocking chair, bent over the table, with her forehead resting on her young son’s arm, but she heard the door open and looked up hopefully. A hope which was dashed when she saw Nyxlin.
“Oh Nyxlin, it’s just you. I was hoping…”
“I know Tresla, I haven’t seen them yet. They should be here today.”
Nyxlin said softly, not wanting to be offended, but feeling it anyway. She moved to stand on the other side of the boy, looking at the dressing she had placed carefully just minutes before. It was bloody already, she noticed instantly with dismay. She grabbed more rosemary to help prevent infection and to reduce the bleeding and glovegap for the pain, washed the open gaping wound, and expertly placed the herbs, along with another dressing over the feline provoked wound.
“Tresla-“ “Yes, I know, here.” She reached and took the sullied dressings, rinsed and rung them, and placed them into a pot of water, placed over the hearth to boil.
“I just thought they would be here by now.” There was fear and grief in her words.
“They couldn’t have known of Breskin’s need for them. It was by chance I was traveling ahead looking for herbs. I’m sure Berkil’s found them and is leading them back as fast as he can.”
Nyxlin tried to instill hope with her gentle words, but her true fear was that there was little else to be done for the boy. She had expertly treated and dressed the wound, multiple times and knew the wound by heart. The wound was jagged, with skin missing, which meant there was no way to close it. What could be done, had been, unless she was missing something that Healer Hall and her parents had failed to teach her, which she doubted. Now was the waiting game, and the fact the child had not wakened was not promising. The next few hours consisted of multiple bandage changes, and a mother’s weeping. When Neesyn and Brixton finally arrived, it was sadly too late.
Breskin had passed peacefully in his sleep. It had been her first solo job and she had failed him. Deep down, Nyxlin knew there had been nothing else she could have done, but it didn’t keep her from wondering what the outcome would have been if her father had been there with her, watching, overlooking.
Neesyn found Nyxlin in her hide cover while Brixton consoled the parents and siblings in the beasthold. The young woman was studying scrolls on healing, slow tears falling from her eyes, threatening to ruin the scrolls she had so carefully transcribed for herself with priceless hide her parents had bought for her nameday. Neesyn sat on the unrolled cot and folded her daughter into her arms. Nyxlin dropped the scroll, leaning into her mother as she sobbed.
“I couldn’t save him, I cou-“
“Shh, I know my love, you did everything you could. You did everything right. Some people can’t be saved.”
“But I should have saved him.” Her sobs resolved and she pulled angrily away, getting up and pacing in the small cover. Tears were angry now, and she stamped her foot. “It’s not fair. It’s not right. That mountain feline should be hunted and killed.” The brunette’s heat was not dissimilar to a toddler’s tantrum, and Neesyn reach out a hand, snatching her daughter’s balled right fist.
“That wouldn’t fix anything dear, the animal is just that, an animal. It does what it knows to do.”
“Well it should know better.” Nyxlin tugged her fist away and turned her back to her mother. “What took you so long to get here?”
She tried not to let her voice crack, but the accusatory tone was undeniable. The silence that followed was full of guilt. “I am sorry Lin, I should never have let you go by yourself. I should have gone with you.”
“Just leave. Please.” Nyxlin heard her mother get up, and felt a soft hand on her shoulder, and then her presence departed. Nyxlin felt worse, not better. She closed her eyes tightly, and imagined her mother running back in, enfolding her in her arms, and telling her that Breskin truly lived. That she had saved the boy, and everything was alright. Yet nothing felt right. She sank down on her cot and picked up the scroll. With tear filled eyes she began studying again. Intent to never let something like this ever catch her unaware. Never again.