Solo Spiritual Emergency

[Baiya]

52nd of Spring, 521

Baiya treasured the days she received correspondences from her family. She felt a little skip in her chest when she saw the papers slipped under her door, the heavy ink sinking through, and today was no different. She had scooped it up on her way home from work, already feeling the warmth inside her like a kiss had been blown from far away. She had climbed into bed, tucking herself away with a cup of hot water and a single mint leaf embellishing it, ready to decipher his words in a labor of love.

The letter was almost illegible. It would have been illegible to anyone else, but her father's blunt, choppy handwriting was not something Baiya could forget. Her schooling days had shown her learning to read and write in much the same way, as he put bells of overtime after work into her literacy. Despite this, his 'B' still had too many bumps on it, and she had only been corrected by teachers in class or her name would look the same as whatever it was he had written on the letter now. She smiled at the memory.

But it was this exact familiarity that meant she could tell immediately upon opening the letter that this one wasn't right. The letters were not the mechanical blocks she was used to, but spaced out, drifting and distracted. A massive ink blot formed the end of the sentence, as if he had not wanted to end it at all. Reading the content, she quickly understood why.

BAIYA.
MOM IS SICK. DO NOT COME HERE. ASK RAK'KELI FOR HELP.

And then, in a handwriting she had never seen, a small edit was made to the note. A delicate word punctuated the letter.

Please.

[Baiya]

The letter trembled in her hands like a leaf in the wind. She set it down gently beside her, open on the bed. She was afraid that she might tear it but unwilling to look away, her eyes scanning it as her mind played thoughts in loops.

She's sick. It's the water. It's the water. It's just the water. She will be fine. People aren't dying from it. Are people dying from it? She will be fine.

Baiya smoothed her palms over the blankets and picked up her tea again. She blew on it habitually, even though she had no intention of drinking at the moment.

I can't come over? He's afraid it will spread. It won't. It's the water. I'll just get her some clean water and she'll be fine. She'll be fine. I'll get some now.

Her shaking hand set the cup down on the ground next to her. She swung her legs out of bed, only realizing after she was standing that she had knocked over the cup she had just set down. Her feet were hot and wet. She sat back down. She would not be going right now.

What could she do, though? She couldn't just sit here. She glanced at the letter again. Ask Rak'keli for help? She hadn't felt the burning of the tea on her feet at all, but the burning that ignited in her throat then was blindsiding. She let out a sound, almost a whimper, but quickly covered it with the sound of her own voice. As long as she was talking, she would not cry.

"Rak'keli?" She knew the name. She had heard it associated with all kinds of good things. Rak'Keli was health, and as far as she could tell, liveliness and happiness and faith and any number of feel good things. But Baiya felt none of them, and she didn't particularly feel like praying to someone who did.

"What, am I supposed to beg?" She asked bitterly. "You have the power to give healing but you won't? Not unless I get down on my knees and beg like a child? Like a child who's going to lose their-" Her throat tightened. It was impossible to swallow. She breathed heavily and tried again, but her voice was softer now. The malice was taken out of it, leaving only the small, squeaking sounds. "Like I'm going to lose my mom?"