[Flashback] Heal Thyself

[Duvalyon Hellebore]

Day 30 of Spring, AV 507
Locations: The Place of Purging and Character's Residence

"What is it now?" Duvalyon snapped at the attendant.

Duvalyon's profession was practiced at unholy hours, since the squirming brats had little respect for his sleep patterns. It was currently two in the morning and he was on the bad end of a twelve hour duty, taking his only break for the day.

The attendant was new to the place of purging and the Hellebore charm, so she just stuttered and stared. Duvalyon sipped his cup of blood, glaring murder at her over the rim.

"A surrogate is hurt and all the others are busy with births."
"Can she wait?"
"No, she's bleeding." This failed to make him budge so she added, "Profusely."
Duvalyon sighed heavily, "Let me guess, she tried to cut it out herself."
"Looks like it, Sir."
"Brilliant, aren’t they?"

Duvalyon was standing, his cup forgotten. The attendant led him to the proper room, but he could have guessed which it was by the commotion. He strode in to see a naked Benshira girl on the bed, another attendant mopping up dark blood as it gurgled from the human's stomach.

"Him?!" the girl protested hoarsely. She struggled vainly for a sheet to cover her stark nudity.
"Not only do I die, I die in shame."
Duvalyon was washing his hands in a basin, humming to himself.
"There is no need to clothe a cow. I assure you, the situation is similar."

The girl trembled in anger and pain, as he took a chair beside her. He looked to the attendant who led him in and said in Symenos, "Put restraints on her."

He then turned his attention to the wild thing in front of him.
"Since you're here, I suspect it's not your first shame," he gave a glib smile, "And it certainly won't be your last."

[Duvalyon Hellebore]

After waving the other attendant away from the Benshira, Duvalyon began to pull at the edges of the wound, checking its depth and breadth. The patient would have growled if she had the strength.

He glanced at the two female attendants hovering near the foot of the bed.
"Get me hot water, strong drink, a candle, and the stitching kit. Make sure the needle is the right size."

The girl began to swear at him in her mother tongue, Shiber.
"Gods the Benshiras are the worst of the humans. They never shut up."
Duvalyon was taking one of the bloody cloths and wrapping it in a ball as he observed this to the new attendant. With a quick grab at the girl's jaw, the red wad of linen was shoved in her mouth. The girl shook her head and vainly tried to protest through the obstruction.

"Much better."

Especially since it terrified the girl, she started breathing franticly through her nose and her limbs went rigid.
"Now," Duvalyon began in common, "Let me teach you something. You are not the first to try this, but consider yourself fortunate that you failed. See, the little sac that holds the child has its own poison until very late in gestation. If you don't have the tools or knowledge to drain it before you try to cut it out. It will burn you up from the inside. Your eventual birth will be a more comfortable way to go, I promise."

He was opening the bottle of spirits as she continued, "Now be sure to let your friends know that when we send you back to the nest."

[Duvalyon Hellebore]

As Duvalyon picked debris out of cut, the girl writhed against the restraints and sweat out her pain, but Duvalyon could only think of how his cup of blood was getting cold. His irritation made him generous with the searing alcohol.

The needle was passed through the candle's fire then swabbed with the alcohol before he threaded it. When he had begun to study medicine this portion always vexed him. Long claws did little for maneuverability.

When the stitching was under way, practice made him gentle. The wound wasn't disastrously deep, two inches, maybe, so he began his stitching two inches from the beginning of the ragged gash. Every quarter inch of the wound, he was knotting off and beginning the process anew. Somewhat tedious work, especially when used on a willful surrogate.

When the job was done, he cleaned the smeared blood away and pulled the ball of fabric from the human's mouth.
"There. Don’t pick at the stitches."
"Die in agony, Benachog."

His stinging slap to her face had no warning, like a master chastening a dog.
"A charming prescription, but I think I will pass."

Duvalyon stood and washed the girl's blood off his hands. She was still fussing in the background, crying, swearing, making a moist combination of the two. He didn't care. His only thoughts were towards how many minutes the cow had stolen from his rest.

The spirited ones were usually the easiest to break, he mused. Emotions overwhelmed them, for good or ill. As high as her defiance soared, her agony would plunge as deep. In time, the cow would be broken and she would lie limp on that bed, contemplating the silence of her gods. All the gods but Dira, that goddess would be by her side soon.

[Duvalyon Hellebore]

"Duvy?" The sound was watery, diluted by sleep and a warm cocoon of blankets.
"Duvy, wake up."
Duvalyon growled into his pillow then groaned, "I have six hours to sleep before going back to the Purging."
He blindly waved his arm at the meddling phantom. She only laughed in response, an honest, trilling sound.
"Poor, Duvy."
Blinking his eyes open, he addressed his little sister, "I am very hard done by."

He sat up. Gods, he didn't bother to change for bed he was so tired from the day before.

Semelia was descending from the wall beside the nook for his bed.
"It's the tenth chime," she remarked. "Which means you have an hour before duty."

Duvalyon crept to the floor to splash his face in the basin.
"Did his lordship send you here to wake me?"

Semelia smiled, "No, father just told me when you might be awake." She blushed a little, "He was too busy to help me today and I was hoping… I mean I can do it, but I worry that…"
He looked baffled at the suggestion he wouldn't oblige her, "Don't be an idiot. Of course."

Scaling the wall Duvalyon began to move from one storage space to another, tossing bottles onto the soft fabric filled floor.
"Did you bring any-- Wait, found it."
"The only thing I brought was honey," she said, "Since it tastes so bitter."
"It smells like sulfur," Duvalyon offered.
"Sulfur would taste better."
He chuckled.

When all the ingredients were found, he scooped them up and moved to the dining table. He didn't have time for guests or true dinners anymore. The table was stacked with parchment and drinking glasses ruddy with blood and juice.

"What happened to your compulsive neatness, Duvy?" his sister asked as she looked at the foreign mess.
"His lordship happened. No young medic has more hours than me."
"He expects much from you."
"So it seems."

[Duvalyon Hellebore]

Duvalyon stepped away from the table to fetch more tools, calling back over his shoulder for Semelia to boil some water with salt.

The process of measuring and mixing the herbs and elixirs were mechanical. While not a proficient herbalist, he had made this particular medicine a dozen times over. It was a family recipe in many ways. The process was somewhat complicated and required a steady hand. Semelia's hand would always tremble, ruining the dose.
He wouldn't speak while in the midst of it, concentrating on the task. Only when he pushed the finished glass towards Semelia did he speak again.

"Your morning meal, miss."

His sister made a face as she lifted it to her mouth. The girl took it like hard liquor, pouring it down her throat instead of drinking it. She hastily followed it with a spoonful of honey.

"You think you'd be used to it by now," Duvalyon remarked wryly.
"Ug, I certainly hope my palate is never that far gone."
"Do you think Isidor could learn to make this?"
"He's willing to. He's a very obliging betrothed. Doesn't seem to mind that he got the sickly runt."
Duavlyon's frown was severe, "He's fortunate to have you. Don't ever say otherwise."
He hastily kissed the crown of his sister's head to make amends, "I've got to clean up and go, Melia. You can visit me again in about thirteen bells or so."
"Thank you, Duvy."

[Duvalyon Hellebore]

"You're late," was his father's good morning as Duvalyon walked into the Place of Purging. Svoreador Hellebore was briskly walking to check on a surrogate almost ripe for birth, but he had ample time to scold his son.
"Semelia visited me. No one made her medicine this morning," Duvalyon replied.
"Come unlock a door for me, I don't want to fumble for my keys." Svoreador commanded. As they walked down the hall, the elder Symenestra continued, "I've shown her how to make it a dozen times."

"She gets nervous and ruins the dose."
"You make too many excuses for her, Duvalyon. You indulge her."
Duvalyon passed in front his father to unlock the door for him. His eyes were a cold challenge, "Someone has to."
Svoreador knew this was the only fight he could lose ground on, so he avoided it by complaining about something else.
"I see the Purging went to shambles in my absence. One surrogate tried to escape, made it to the hallway. These young medics are too soft."
A backhanded compliment was spared for Duvalyon, "At least that's one thing I will never have to worry about from you."
"At least," Duvalyon answered dryly as his father passed through the door.

It was another glorious day in the Place of Purging. He began his own work by checking on a sobbing surrogate. She wheezed, sniffed and snotted on anything that came close, in this case Duvalyon's arm. Then came chasing down an elder Symenestra who broke lose from her bed and was swinging her cane at attendants. Followed by the surrogate who made him a present by dumping her chamber pot on the floor by the door.

As Duvalyon looked down at the pile of shyke he stepped in, he wished he could cane the surrogates without worrying about the child they carried.
"At least I have the consolation," he told the offending surrogate, "That you will be dead fairly soon."

A thorough foot boiling later, he continued the panoply of joy that was medicine.

[Cayenne]

Fantabulous thread, and an interesting insight into Duv and his personal and professional lives. I hereby award 2 XP in Medicine.