Solo [The Infirmary] Consequences

[Samantha Slate]

15th of Fall, 512 A.V. 5th Bell of the evening Samantha paused at the door to the infirmary, taking a deep breath to steel herself. She had always hated visiting a healer; all the medicines, potions, brews, and concoctions bothered her. None of them were pleasant to ingest and the medical practitioners were always off-putting. It wasn't because they were cruel or unkind; quite the opposite. Most seemed to genuinely love their work and the help they could offer others. It just unnerved her, having someone poking and prodding at her. All the care and gentleness in the world couldn't change the fact that the wizard was being examined by a stranger, and that the stranger knew better than she did in matters of the body. For a woman who had always made a habit of being self-sufficient, that was very hard to accept. Still, she had to get her cuts taken care of. That damned cat--a familiar, the professor had called it--had given Samantha a nasty scratching when she put her hands on the professor; it seemed protective of her for some reason. The wizard had no idea why anyone would be fond of Fianza, much less a creature like that. Samantha sighed in agitation. She had tried to treat the scratches herself, but they were deep enough that they kept bleeding. If she were to stop the bleeding, Samantha would need to use either her clothing or her bedding for bandaging. In either case, the woman would need to pay for new clothes or new bedding; the University would probably require her to reimburse them if she ruined any of their property. Enough stalling, Samantha thought to herself irritably, realizing that she'd probably find an excuse to just leave if she didn't get on with it soon. Before she could think further, the woman pushed the door open and strode in. The infirmary's interior was much like she had expected; sterile and meticulously neat, with everything obviously in its proper place and carefully kept in working order. Men and women hastened about, some carrying medical apparatus that Samantha couldn't identify while others trailed them, obviously students learning from experienced physicians. Typically, these students had much more to carry than their tutors. A few of them glanced Samantha's way, though none of them stopped to help her. They were clearly too busy to deal with her. This annoyed the Vantha; they could at least point her in the right direction! Her eyes swirling with a mingled red and yellow, the woman wiped her face once more to get some of the blood off. She was still bleeding, and her face was more or less covered in the stuff. Samantha huffed to herself in nervous agitation, noting the antiseptic smell of the building. How long would it take for someone to decide that she might actually be here for a reason? The blood running down her face really should have been a give-away. After what felt like an eternity, though it was really only a few chimes, a young man approached Samantha and greeted her with a genial smile, "Hello, ma'am. How might I assist you?" The man showed no signs of surprise at the wizard's bloodied state; in fact, it seemed almost as if he were used to scholars coming into the infirmary looking like they had just gotten into a fight with a stray cat. Though he was perfectly friendly, Samantha couldn't help but feel as though his smile were masking a sinister smirk, a mocking spirit that found it somehow gratifying to know that she was putting herself at his mercy. This thought irritated Samantha's sensibilities even further, and she narrowed her eyes at the man in suspicion as she replied, "Yes, you very well could help me. If you people are done lazing about," She snapped spitefully, her eyes now a deep red, "Then you could help me with the cuts on my face. Or hadn't you noticed that I had them?" Samantha knew that she shouldn't be hard on the man; not only was he working as hard as everyone else, but he was the one who would likely be giving her care. She certainly didn't want him making any mistakes. Just as she was about to apologize, the wizard noticed that the attendant's face had grown red with anger and he looked like he was about to answer her insults with sharp words of his own, but his rage was suddenly halted as an idea crossed his mind. It was so obvious that even Samantha noticed it, and a slight crease worried at her brow as she wondered what he was thinking. After a few ticks, the man's face had returned to its normal shade, though malevolence practically boiled from the tight-lipped smile that he gave Samantha. "This way...ma'am," He said, "We'll see to those cuts." The attendant led Samantha to the far end of the infirmary where a young woman in conservatively-cut clothing--certainly at least ten years Samantha's junior--stood fidgeting beside a bed reserved for patients. When the pair reached the girl, the attendant turned to Samantha and said, "This is Brynnia, miss. She will be taking care of you." The man, now wearing the evil smirk that Samantha had earlier imagined, turned without a word and strode away to care for others needing assistance. "Sevun!" Brynnia called nervously, "Are you sure that I should--" She was cut off by the attendant's voice as he overrode her roughly, "Yes, you should! Mistress Claira said she thinks you're able to care for patients on your own, now." Sevun didn't even turn as he said it, and picked up speed as soon as he was through, as if afraid Brynnia would refuse if he stayed near her a moment longer than he had to. The wizard turned uneasily to Brynnia and eyed her up and down; a taller woman than Samantha with brown eyes and matching ruddy-hued hair. She wore a roughspun dress that covered her from the neck all the way down to the floor, ending only an inch or so above the wooden floor. "Miss?" The girl(she really did seem more like a girl to Samantha) asked hesitantly, uncomfortable under Samantha's red gaze, "Do you need anything?" The woman bit back a retort similar to the one she gave Sevun; estranging herself to Brynnia might make things worse. It was bad enough that she'd been placed in the care of a student; she didn't have to go make it worse on herself. "Yes," Samanta replied, stating the obvious, "My face is bleeding. Do you think you could take care of that for me?" The wizard couldn't keep the condescension out of her voice. It was too petching obvious of a wound for the woman to have any right to miss it. "If not, I can always go find someone more capa--" "Yes, yes! I have to! I mean..." The girl was clearly flustered, and looked incredibly worried. Possibly even more worried than Samantha felt. "Yes, I can, ma'am." The words, so professional-sounding from Sevun, came out in a jumbled, quaking tone from Brynnia. The more Samantha saw of this 'doctor', the less she wanted the girl anywhere near her cuts. If they didn't feel like slices of fire digging into her skin, she'd have walked away right then. Unfortunately, she seemed to have little choice. If she sought out another doctor, Sevun would likely find a way to pair her with someone even worse than Brynnia. "Very well..." The wizard's tone was as steady as she could make it, though the worry still edged into her voice. She hated seeing doctors on the best of days, and this certainly wasn't the best of days. More importantly, Brynnia was just as surely not the best of doctors. It was understandable that she was a student; this was a university, after all. She seemed too unpracticed and new to her job to be performing on her own, but if the head of the Infirmary decided she was ready, she probably was. Despite Samantha's bias against medical professionals, she recognized skill when she saw it. That old woman knew more about her patients' bodies than they did. With a resigned sigh, Samantha seated herself on the stark, while bed linens that covered the small bed beside the pair. It was surprisingly soft, the woman noted, much better than her lumpy mess of a bed that she spent her nights in. She practically cringed as she forced herself to say, "Get started, then." For about five ticks, Brynnia simply stared blankly at Samantha. She seemed stunned that the wizard would even consider allowing her to do what she was being trained to do. Samantha had to wave at the girl's face to snap her back to reality, "Oh, of course!" Brynnia said hastily as she opened the plain, wooden cabinet that sat at the foot of the bed and began rummaging through it. Sitting on the bed as she was, Samantha could not quite see what the girl was getting, but the sounds of glass and metal clinking around unnerved her. After what seemed an eternity, Brynnia moved to the side of the cabinet and Samantha saw what she had been gathering; needles, thread, bandages, glass vials, and countless other implements of torture were gathered in her arms. If she hadn't been horrified by the collection, the wizard would have wondered how the girl could hold them all in her arms without dropping anything. Brynnia dropped the tools in an untidy pile right beside Samantha, and bent down into Samantha's face to have a look at the cuts. "Err..." Samantha began in a voice edged with fear, "Are you sure you need all of that?" She leaned away from Brynnia's face until she was in danger of falling off the other side. When the girl retreated, Samantha leaned forward again and observed her thoughtful expression. Any kind of thought from the fool of a girl was likely very bad for Samantha, she was sure. The girl nodded, "Yes, these are deep! They'll need stitching..." She picked up the needle and, after a couple tries, threaded it and moved it towards Samantha's face. The wizard promptly scooted away from the woman with an expression of deep worry, her eyes flooding with a sickly, pale yellow color that caused Brynnia to pause, though she said nothing. Those who had not seen many Vantha were often confused by her eyes, and the brief pause gave Samantha enough time to interrupt Brynnia's plans. "Stitching!" She exclaimed, "They do not need stitching!" The thought of Samantha's 'nurse' getting anything sharp near her sent shivers down her spine. Dying very well might be preferable to having her face used as a pincushion. Brynnia frowned to herself at Samantha's outburst. "She said to calm them down if they got nervous..." The girl mumbled to herself, looking from the needle back to Samantha. It took a moment for her to make out a plan, then she pasted an oversized smile on her face and said in a forcedly warm tone, "Don't worry, dearie! I know what I'm doing! I've seen it done all the time!" Dearie? Had that girl really just called her dearie? Only an old woman would dare call someone Samantha's age that! "Now, hold on!" Samantha cried, raising her hands up to ward off any attempts with the needle, "Can't you just get someone else to stitch me?" Samantha's words caused Brynnia to pale, as if they had been a grave threat. "No, please! I can do it! Please!" She practically pleaded, "If I don't, the Mistress might get rid of me! I've made too many mistakes, here, and she's already threatened to send me away once..." Gods, Brynnia looked like she was about to cry! No matter the cost to Brynnia, Samantha most certainly would not allow the girl to practice her morbid sewing all over her face! Just as she was about to tell Brynnia that, a voice called out, "What in Rak'keli's name are you doing, Miss Yisna?" Samantha looked in the direction of the voice and was relieved to see an aged woman walking towards them at a surprising pace. "You don't stitch a laceration that shallow, you just wash it, apply antiseptic, and bandage it! I haven't even taught you to stitch yet, have I?" "I-I'm sorry, Mistress Claira! You told me to take care of her, so I was trying! Please don't get rid of me! It was an accident!" Shockingly, the girl clearly looked like she was starting to cry. Even in her flustered state, Samantha couldn't help but frown at her in disapproval; she was a grown woman, yet she was acting more like a child! Fortunately, Samantha valued her health enough not to say anything that might anger the wizened doctor. The old woman's face softened at Brynnia's distress, and she placed a comforting hand on the tearful girl's arm. "Now, now, don't get all weepy. It upsets patients to see their nurses crying like babes." Though the tone was soft, it carried an undercurrent of an order. This woman was used to giving orders and having them obeyed. Brynnia seemed to notice this as well, for she managed to regain control of herself enough that no tears flowed, though she still sniffled from time to time. Mistress Claira turned to Samantha with an apologetic smile, "I'm sorry about that, dearie. I don't know what came over her... I never told her she could do anything alone. She's only been a student here for a few days. Please forgive her." Samantha's expression darkened as Claira spoke; that bastard Sevun had given her over to the bumbling girl as some kind of sick joke! "It wasn't her fault," Samantha said in a carefully controlled voice; she didn't want to start shouting. Her eyes had shifted to a deep crimson, however, "A man--Sevun--said that you had said it was all right. It's good you came along when you did, though." The wizard forced a smile onto her face as she said the words, though a furious scowl would have fit her emotions better. That girl could have killed her! Samantha made a mental note to find some way to get revenge on Sevun at a later date.