Sister of Mercy. Brother of death

Elathi was hurrying through the dark streets, she swallowed her fear and tried not to make too much sound as she stumbled across the uneven cobblestones. The street was very narrow and winding just as most of the streets of this city and it was slippery with garbage, animal dung and the gods alone knew what else. It was difficult finding your way even in broad daylight, but she had no choice, she had to get there, soon. She held the whimpering bundle closer to her chest, her heart felt as though it was about to break into a million shards but she knew oh so well that there were no choices. There was just one option left, only one possible outcome. She was still young, just twenty three but her life was already more or less over. She had gotten what they referred to as the strangle sickness, her lungs were turning into a thick rigid mass within her and breathing became harder and harder. They said that those who did die from the disease had lungs which did resemble rock in consistency at the time of their final gasping breath. She knew she had a few short weeks left, if she even had that much.

Elathi had arrived at the city she lived in when she was merely fifteen years of age, she was supposed to work as a maid for an elderly noble woman and for two years she had served and served well too until her mistress suddenly died. Elathi hadn’t found a new job, she was just a kid from the countryside, she had no family to support her, her name wasn’t worth anything at all. She was also very naïve and had no idea of what life within such a large place was truly like,

At first she had made a living from picking flowers. She would leave through the city gates early each morning and search through the fields and make small ornaments she then sold at the markets. But the war had gotten closer and the gates were shut quite often and ordinary citizens were no longer allowed to leave unless they had some important job. The authorities did deem travel as too dangerous and the many attacks on civilians did mean that you couldn’t leave unless you had armed guards.

This meant that she no longer had work to do, and she started to starve. In desperation she did what so many other women did in her situation, she sold herself and in the beginning she hated it intensely and her feeling of self-worth did plummet. After a while she became numb to it all and she no longer cared about anything except getting a warm meal and a safe place to sleep. A human life had little value these days, at least if you weren’t someone of importance and she was just a whore.

As so many of those who chose this way of survival she got infected with different types of disease and the city hospital did also treat the local whores. She had to go there rather often and she did see it every day, the despise and loathing within the eyes of the women working there. She did feel a cold sting of sheer spite then, if those women had been in her situation, would they have chosen to starve to death before they spread their legs to a stranger? She doubted it.

For years the life on the streets was her destiny until she got visibly ill, nobody wanted to buy her then and she had to beg instead. It wasn’t much better than being a whore and her life was very hard indeed, she did look way older than she really was and each day was a constant struggle. She sought solace within the cheap gin sold on every street corner and she no longer cared about her appearance.

One evening a stranger did stop in front of her as she sat on the street with her beggars bowl in front of her. He had bought her a warm meal, then he had bought her clothes and even medicine. She didn’t understand why, she was worthless, lower than low, worth less than dog shit on a shoe. She didn’t deserve pity nor kindness, she didn’t deserve anything really. He did never tell her why he did take care of her, why he did treat her with respect, as if she was an ordinary decent woman. The only thing she did know was that he once had called her “Ardathe threaly vishady” She had no idea of what that meant until a while after he left her. One of the less hostile minded women of the hospital did speak some elvish and knew it meant something like “mother of destiny”.

A few weeks after he left she realized that something had happened, nothing less than a miracle. She was with child and that had never happened to her before in spite of all the men she had had. At first she didn’t really believe it but the midwife who did work at the hospital did confirm her suspicion. A new life did indeed grow within her and she had given up the idea of ever becoming a mother. He had left her with money and so she could stay at the hospital and receive care and support there. It was odd but it seemed as if all of her ailments did disappear, she was healthier than ever before and when she did go out to beg people would be way more generous than normal. The sight of a beautiful and pregnant young woman made them open their purses gladly. The midwife was in shock, she couldn’t understand how Elathi could have conceived for as far as she knew the girl was among the many who were completely ruined by the sad life they did lead. Elathi didn’t care, even on the streets having a child meant heightened status and she would finally have somebody to love and live for.

The labour started early one morning and Elathi had barely believed that she would be able to survive. The pain was horrible and she realized that it had been a very tough birth even though the baby was rather small. It was a girl, an unusually beautiful baby with gorgeous features, blond hair and eyes which were almost lavender in colour. She did recognize those eyes, they were his. It was all he left his daughter except from a small brooch with amethysts and his name. He has said his name was Orthiald and she didn’t know if that was his real name or not but she was grateful, he had left her with a true treasure, a gift of life.

When the baby was born she got ill again, it was as if all her old ailments did return with a vengeance, it was as if the baby had protected her somehow. But now it was too late, the strangle sickness had gotten hold of her and she couldn’t allow anything bad to happen to her daughter. That was why she had walked for days now, she knew of an orphanage in this city and it was well known as a place where the children were taken very well care of. They were treated with nothing but love and would be trained in decent well needed skills. It was everything she could ever wish for, that her daughter grew up to be a happy young woman with a family and a future.

She did cough and slowed down, the taste of blood was on her lips all the time now, as was the constant barking cough. She stared at the anonymous gate ahead of her, it was grey and small and didn’t tell anybody of what it did hide. She swallowed her deep despair, her heart was bleeding but there was no way out even if it felt like losing her very soul. This was the hardest thing she had ever done, harder than letting a man fuck her for money.

The gate had a small hatch on the side of it, made for this one purpose and she did open it, slowly and hesitantly. The baby was whimpering a bit and she swallowed hard, tears were burning in her eyes. She put a note and the brooch into the swaddling before she laid the child down behind the hatch. She did stroke the soft hair one last time with a silent prayer for a good life. There was a piece of string attached within the small room and she pulled it hard a few times, knowing that a bell would chime on the inside of the wall. She threw one last glance at the baby within the small room, nothing could be more bitter than this, not even her own impending death. She closed the hatch and turned around, ran down the street sobbing, she did almost stumble but managed to keep her balance, she already regretted what she had done but destiny had to be fulfilled. She had done what she could to secure her child, to make sure she wouldn’t have to suffer the same fate as herself. It was all she could do, now she would return to the hospital and maybe her last days would be spent knowing that she at least had done the right thing for her daughter.

Sister Dea had been sleeping deeply when she heard the sound of the bell but she was awake immediately, it was a reflex which had been imprinted into her very soul. She knew there was a baby in the crib outside and the little one couldn’t be allowed to get cold. She crawled out of her bed slowly and pulled on a cloak before leaving her humble cell and entering the cold spring night. The cold had lasted for a very long time, it was unusual for this time of the year but then again maybe not, nothing seemed to be normal anymore, not even the turn of the seasons. It was the goddamn war, and the magic the enemy did release, it left everything in ruins, even the weather and the natural cycles of nature. Dea had a huge and warm heart which did beat for the small and weak, the innocent and the abandoned. She saw it as her job to make sure that they did get a good start in life and she was just as sad each time a mother had to do the unthinkable and leave the most precious thing she had there in the hands of the sisterhood. As her sisters of the order she had sworn to serve the gods through sacrifice and good deeds and she did her utmost to fulfil that oath.

The baby in the crib was a runt, a tiny baby which couldn’t be more than a month old and Dea’s heart did melt immediately. She had rarely seen a more gorgeous baby and she hurried inside with the swaddled infant. The cloth the child was wrapped in was rather nice but it was worn and had to have been used before, it was probably bought from some other mother or at a market. Some did sell stuff which had been worn before. There was a note and a small but very pretty amethyst brooch within the swaddles and Dea frowned and tried to read the note, the handwriting was what her teachers would describe as atrocious and it did tell Dea that the one writing it had received very little schooling if any at all. “The rock is from her pa, he said he name Orthiald. She is my light, gift of life. Take care of her please, I dying soon”

Dea had to swallow, death was a guest who was visiting rather often these days, you feared him and yet he would come, sneaking like a thief in the night and there was no place to hide. So this little one was about to become a true orphan, unfortunately she wouldn’t be alone.

She hurried to the kitchen and made sure that some milk was being warmed, then she sat down and found the book in which the children were registered with the date they arrived and the name on the note. Some of the younger sisters were already there to admire the baby, it was a long time since they had an infant this young handed over to them, most of which were left there were over a year old and some as old as eight or nine. Dea looked closer at the little one, the odd eyes did fascinate her, the deep blue almost violet colour and the strange calm within the gaze was strange, there was such wisdom in those eyes, something which shouldn’t have been there in someone this young. Dea knew there and then that this child was different, she was not like the others, this child was marked by destiny but for better or for worse?

As normal the child was handed over to one sister for the first few months and it was sister Agatha who got the honour this time, she was a widow who had chosen to enter the order of the white Lily when her husband died. Her children were all grown and had families of their own and she felt that they no longer needed her. As all women who joined the order she left everything of her former life behind, even her name and family. Now she was sister Agatha and it was good that way. She was a very caring woman who took care of the children in her care with great compassion and love but she never spoiled them, she made sure that they were given all they needed without overdoing it. The child mortality was rather high and the sisters had learned the hard way that it was unwise to bond too closely to their little guests. It was normal that they didn’t give a child a name until they were at least a year old, they believed that a name would bind the soul to this world and make it harder for the child to find its ancestors on the other side, it would get confused.

This girl was only one among many there now, they had about twenty children under the age of two and about fifty from three and up to nine, they had fourteen who were older than that. It wasn’t normal that a child stayed with them after they reached their teens, the sisters would make sure that they got accepted as apprentices or workers so they could face a future where their safety was ensured. The youngest children were kept in a large dormitory where one or two sisters were on constant watch, the little ones were never left alone and there would always be an adult there to keep an eye on them. It was a perilous time and one could never be too careful.

The child didn’t know that her mother one grey morning was laid to rest in one of the many large mass graves outside of the walls of Bhael Altur, she didn’t know anything of this world outside of the protective walls of the orphanage, a world which grew more grey and bleak and dangerous every day. The war which had lasted for decades had entered a new and more destructive phase, the enemy didn’t follow any pattern anymore, attacks were sudden and brutal and came out of nowhere and many realms were involved in this conflict which didn’t seem to end ever. On the battlefields blood were shed like red rivers, the towns and villages lost all of their able men and only widows and fatherless children were left behind to face the misery all on their own. From the dark realm of Orthugthai endless streams of soldiers and deviltry flowed, black magic claimed innocent lives each day so nobody was safe, no peasant and no noble man, despair was the only thing left in oh so many places. People were broken, their will to fight withered like dying roses and the constant hunger and ever present shadow of death often claimed the lives the enemy did spare. The lands to the west of the cursed realm had already fallen and this had given the wizard king and his servants free access to the coast where their ships made it impossible for the other realms to travel safely and transport goods to the free realms to the north of the darkness.

The cities suffered now, you couldn’t buy things which had been a staple part of the cuisine before and luxuries were completely out of the question. The traders went bankrupt and the economy did collapse, in some areas people rather turned to crime to make a living than facing starvation and the authorities had their hands full, stopping the robbers and highwaymen from becoming just as great a menace as the enemy. Those fortunate enough to own land could grow their own food but for the city dwellers that was not an option. Starvation spread like a disease and many became desperate, many were wandering about now, seeking refuge and food and this unrest brought with it its own perils. Diseases spread and those desperate didn’t always care about the unwritten laws of the society.

Many sought the cities because the walls seemed like a good protection against the hordes of the wizard king, this led to overpopulation and even greater despair and many rulers were forced to stop people from entering. There wasn’t room enough for everybody, simple as that. Bhael Ethur was not that affected, it was too far to the south to have witnessed the true power of the enemy yet. It wasn’t a large city, it was placed on a hillside underneath a huge cliff which had caves and could be turned into a fortress if need be. Since the southern areas hadn’t seen that much of the enemy the rumours and tales told were met with indifference and disbelief. They knew that something was wrong within the realms but few did believe it really was that bad, couldn’t it be true that entire villages were wiped out within a few short hours? That entire valleys would burn? That the enemy did slaughter even women and children? The gods couldn’t possibly accept that something like that was happening? Such abominations and abuse of life, such horrors?

From the army camps and academies new soldiers were turned out each year but the bloody machine of war claimed more lives, many more, it simply wasn’t enough no matter how many men they recruited. The soldiers had been well trained professionals, now they were just given some swift basic training, a uniform and a sword and then they were sent out to fight, most probably to the death. The rulers were in despair, the priests could do very little to stop all this dark magic and even the best knight didn’t stand much of a chance against evil creatures who didn’t obey any rules at all. Honour and common sense were alien concepts to them and the goal was simply to kill, not to win or conquer, just to kill.

The realms were caught off guard, their old creed of honour hopelessly outdated and weak compared with the iron will of the enemy who stopped at nothing to break the realms. Many believed that all hope was lost but they kept fighting, simply because it was better to die fighting than crawling on your knees as the wizard king’s thrall.

One sunny day in the middle of summer it was decided that it was about time that the child received a name. She had seemed to be small and frail but there was such energy in her and she was quickly catching up with the other children there. The sisters did gather for the ceremony, it was a rather sacred moment for them all when a child was given a name that meant that destiny from now on was able to find it and claim it. The name would form the soul and of the twenty sisters who worked there only one had been given the gift of name giving and she was very aware of the great responsibility this brought. It was a special task she had been given and she had never been wrong, the names had been perfect and nobody had ever complained. The great hall was lit by many lamps on this day. It was a sacred moment, one surrounded by much superstition and hope.

Sister Olive was among the senior sisters, she had been there for most of her life and her main job was to ensure that the children were taught all they needed before they left. She taught them how to read and write and nobody dared to skip her classes, she was strict but always fair and she loved her work. A person capable of writing has a way better chance at getting a good job with a bright future and she was proud to say that many of her pupils had ended up in very respectable positions.

The child had been placed on a small altar and the other sisters were kneeling there, they heads bowed in respect. Olive did mumble her prayers, waiting for the trance which would enable her to see the child’s true name. It was all up to fate now, to the gods of destiny. The only sound was the low crackle from the fires and Olive was working hard to clear her mind. She had to be completely empty to do this, but it was hard to concentrate. There were horrible rumours about things happening in the realms to the north, she could hardly believe what she had heard, and it made it hard to make her thoughts obey. She shook off the feeling of fear and concentrated.

She couldn’t fail now, she had given names there for almost thirty years and she didn’t want to risk the shame of having to find a successor when she wasn’t yet too old. She concentrated harder, managed to free her mind from all thought and slowly something entered her thoughts, a syllable, one more, a word was shaped and she felt a sense of dread. What was this? The name was roaring through the emptiness and she felt a sort of pressure, grasped her head in pain. It wasn’t possible, not such a name for a girl, for such a beautiful child. Not a name speaking of a dark fate.

She was shaking, she didn’t want to but she had to, the name was given, she couldn’t take it back. She laid her hand on the child’s head and opened her eyes to the world of the living again, everybody stared at her with expectations and they were shocked by the horrified expression within the revered sister’s gaze. “The child’s name…”

She swallowed hard and forced herself to complete this, there was no way back, destiny would take its course no matter what, it wasn’t anything mere mortals could change, the gods did dance their own dance and in their games humans were mere pawns. “The child’s name is Adraste Ihlani”

There was a hum of surprised voices sweeping through the room, they looked at Olive with disbelief as she stood there, swaying from the effort, she could hardly believe it but she had named the girl, given her a name nobody had ever carried before. Sister Dea did grasp her chest and she was pale, she couldn’t believe what she had just heard. Adraste Ihlani, the blade of destiny in the all tongue, The rose of blood in Verdanian, The bride of the dragon in elvish. How was this possible? What fate awaited this lovely child? She was shaking lightly as she picked up the girl and wrapped her into the blankets again, “Write the name down in our journals, it is as it has to be, the gods have decided”

The sisters were mumbling and sounding rather shocked as they returned to their daily chores, this was unheard of but then again, times were hard, maybe the gods felt that the child needed a strong name, a name like none other. Adraste didn’t let the fuss disturb her, she laid there in the blankets, cooing and grinning like before and many felt a cold chill gather around their hearts, the very idea that something bad was to happen to this little bundle of joy was enough to make them shudder to the core, she was their most precious treasure. They had never had a toddler this mellow and sweet before and they loved her dearly.

One afternoon in late summer the orphanage got visitors, a delegation from the neighbouring city were there since a very famous healer was to visit the place and these people wanted to meet her. Among the guests were an elderly midwife who worked at the hospital in that city and when the sisters showed her this unusually pretty toddler she recognised her. She had known the child’s mother, in fact she was the one who had welcomed Adraste into this world. Elathi hadn’t told very much about herself but she had left some information and the sisters were glad they got at least some knowledge about Adraste’s mother. The midwife was rather sure that Elathi had exaggerated when she told how kind Adraste’s father had been to her, but on the other hand, he could hardly have been an ordinary person. The leader of the orphanage, the honourable sister Sionna felt that Adraste was a child of fate, one of these few and very rare individuals who can change the destiny of not just other people but whole realms. She would need to be watched over very carefully and they couldn’t get sloppy with her education at all, they couldn’t afford that.

Winter that year came fast and suddenly and it bore every sign of being a very hard one, the sisters started to get worried for real. There wasn’t much money to come by anymore, they could no longer give the children more than the absolute basics and sister Sionna made sure that all the older kids were placed with local farmers, at least they wouldn’t starve that way and they would learn honest work. The smallest kids didn’t know of the difficult situation, to them life was a game, when the wind was howling through cracks in the walls they would laugh and even the very simple toys were appreciated. The orphanage was an old building and it was no longer fit for its task but they had no other alternative, it had to make due even if the rooms were cold and drafty. The order wasn’t as powerful as it had been, nor was it as respected. The realm was suffering and even those who once had been held in high regard would feel this, the wealthy lost most of their wealth and the poor got even more poor, even more desperate.

Adraste was growing, she was a very healthy kid and stretched up like a bean stalk, they all agreed that she would become a very tall woman in the end. She learned how to walk in just a few weeks and she was suddenly high and low and everywhere and surprisingly fast. The young sister in charge of looking after her had a challenging task for sure, the toddler could be gone in a second and she didn’t really understand the concept of danger. She learned to talk extremely fast too and they realized that she was very intelligent, so the sisters started teaching her other languages since children learn this faster than adults. They showed her the herbs in the orphanage’s garden and taught her the names and their medicinal effects and she remembered it all, didn’t need anything repeated more than once or twice. The sisters were wise enough to know that the tasks had to be playful and challenging without being too hard, they wanted to encourage the child’s wish to learn, not throttle it with overambitious expectations. She was a bit like a sponge, soaking up everything they could throw at her and she was soon way ahead of other kids twice her age. Adraste never seemed to be in a bad mood, if she was alone she would sit there and hum or sing and her clear laughter could be heard through the halls rather often, she made everybody feel more optimistic just by being there.

When she was in her third year the situation became critical, many of those who had used to donate money to the orphanage were unable to continue, they simply couldn’t afford to part with a single coin. Poverty and fear was spreading now like a plague and now everybody knew that yes, the realm was at war, the signs couldn’t be ignored and the messengers spread the news of horrible battles and great losses almost every day. The sisters had to go out into the city begging for scraps and now most of the children were placed with foster parents even though they hadn’t learned much yet, that had never happened before in the history of the order. Sionna was desperate, she had no idea of how they were to care for the little ones now, it seemed as if hope was gone.

Then one day a call came from another order, the sisters of the holy Ahnileme. They were healers and usually people referred to them as the sisters of mercy. The war had gotten closer and they needed a place from which to work, if they could borrow one wing of the orphanage they would contribute to its economy as a sign of gratitude. Sionna was overjoyed, it was as if the heavens had answered her prayers and she accepted gladly, they were saved! Before a week was gone the orphanage was overrun by workers and within two more weeks the left wing was transformed into a hospital for the sick and wounded.

The children got a bit nervous when the new sisters arrived in their strange white and red habits, and it took some coaxing to make them greet the new inhabitants but after a bit the kids all learned that the strict looking ladies were just as nice as the sisters they already knew and things calmed down. What Sionna and the others hadn’t really taken into mind was what a hospital like this inevitably brings, wounded men.

There were battles fought not far from the city and every day new patients were brought to the care of the sisters, screams and moans filled the halls and there were sights no child ought to be exposed to. The enemy had horrible weapons and even worse monsters at their disposal and some of the people brought inn were so mangled it was hard to tell they were human. Sionna ordered that the doors between the western wing and the rest of the building were to be nailed shut, the children shouldn’t have to deal with such terrors, not even by accident.

Sionna was often in meetings with the leader of the sisters of mercy, Althreid was a very tough woman with a stone face and a seemingly sour disposition but Sionna knew that she was a very caring person underneath the steely exterior. The tasks Althreid had to face were so much worse than those Sionna dealt with since she was the one to decide whether someone was to live or die. Sionna could never have managed to wield such power. If someone was too severely wounded it was Athreid’s job to make a decision, to order the sisters to try to save the person in spite of the injuries or to give him or her the mercy of a quick and pain free death.

The sisters of mercy were supposed to save lives first and foremost but they were also taught to prevent unneeded agony. The city was packed with people now, may sought refuge behind city walls since the hordes of the enemy continued to just pop up out of nowhere. It was of course dark magic, one the king’s own sorcerers couldn’t even dream of competing with. The onslaught of refugees meant that the hospital which originally was meant to deal with wounded from the battle fields now also served as a hospital for the ever growing population and this brought with it some new challenges. Many came there with infections and Sionna was terrified that the kids would catch some of the nasty diseases she now saw on a daily basis.

As the winter slowly changed into spring something started to happen at the hospital, silently at first but then the sisters started to notice for real. Some of the wounded men spoke of an angel who visited them at night and this angel did look like a very adorable little girl. It wouldn’t speak but just sat there, holding their hand and looking at them with such calm and wisdom within the blue violet eyes, it made them feel at ease, calm and protected, almost blessed. The sisters could hardly believe what they were told but they knew it couldn’t be hallucinations or fever dreams. Those who were visited by this angel always got better as if by a miracle, even men who were on the brink of death were pulled back from the abyss and became hale again. When the sisters spoke to the sisters of the orphanage they realized who this angel were. Adraste had discovered a crawl space which ran from the east wing to the west wing within one of the supporting walls, it had been used to transport firewood and had been forgotten but she had somehow managed to pry open the hatches and used it almost every night. It was as if she was drawn to those who were the worst off by some instinct and she never acted as if she was afraid or bothered with what she saw, to her it seemed like a completely natural thing.

The discovery did naturally cause quite a stir among the sisters, how could this child do something like that? It was very apparent that she had some extreme gifts when it came to healing but so young? Sionna and Althreid decided to test her skills, they moved a patient out into a place near the hallway and waited in silence for the child to appear. She did, she sat down by the sick woman’s side and smiled her usual cheerful and friendly smile. Sionna couldn’t believe it but the dying woman’s breath improved, as did her colour and after a while Adraste did climb down from the bed again and left for her room at the orphanage again.

The next day Althreid told Sionna that the woman had been brought inn with cancer all through her body but now she was as healthy as a horse. There were no signs of the disease at all, she was in better health than most of them. Sionna felt scared, such powers were nothing you ought to take lightly, if this was indeed the truth Adraste had powers nobody could even imagine. The child was stronger than any adult healer they had ever heard of and they agreed that this had to be kept as a well guarded secret. If people found out there would be those out there willing to exploit such gifts and they didn’t want to put Adraste in any kind of danger, the war had turned even honest people into desperate beasts and a child with the power to heal even the dying? She would become the victim of a vicious hunt for salvation if this was to become known outside of the orphanage walls.

Over the next weeks they did discover that this rare gift of hers had a different side too, one more sombre. She didn’t only heal the sick and wounded, if someone was too far gone she would give them that little extra which helped them let go and cross over. They stopped struggling when they saw that angelic face and the mild expression within those strange eyes, the fear went away and peace could yet again be seen on the tormented faces. Althreid was sure the girl was touched by the gods and she made all the sisters swear to never mention this to anybody. She didn’t mention it to the other sisters but she was sure she had felt something else too within this young soul. There has to be a balance and thus there had to be some force within Adraste which could balance out this gift of healing. She didn’t really want to find out what was hidden within Adraste’s soul to create the balance within the child, it had to be something as awful as her healing gift was wonderful.

When Adraste turned five she suddenly stopped visiting the hospital, she did seemingly turn into an ordinary little girl who wanted to play with dolls and argued with the sisters when they wanted to give her a bath or put her to bed. She acted like an ordinary five year old and could be quite a handful at times since she had turned rather stubborn and headstrong and she had her own very specific opinions about things like bedtime and food. Sionna did breathe a huge sigh of relief, she was glad the child had turned normal, maybe Adraste would face an ordinary safe life after all. As it was they didn’t have that many children left, they didn’t accept new ones now since they simply didn’t have the room and finances for it. Adraste was starting to follow sister Agatha on her shopping and begging trips, she was extremely curious and asked questions about everything she saw and many did melt completely since she was such an innocent and cute kid.