"The Sixth Surah, Once More" Log Date: 5/27, 5/31/99 Log Cast: Sevilen, Faanshi Log Intro: In the years since the awakening of her magic, the shudra Faanshi, once Faanshi Sarazen, has twice tasted death when laying hands upon one who needed her healing touch: she burned a dire illness out of the body of the Warlord Hashim, and the Atlantean Prince Kuronbo's mind and heart were full of death's shadow when she healed him at the bidding of Khalid Atar. But only once now has Faanshi felt death seize a soul from the grasp of her power. A chance discovery of a fatally stabbed Empyrean woman in the Rialto called up the young shudra's magic with such force that she barely comprehended what she was doing. She barely noticed the Empyrean Praetor who parted the crowd for her, or those who knelt by the dying Jelara, or the Delphi Adept who also struggled to heal her. Even as her power determinedly mended Jelara's body, the Empyrean's soul fled Faanshi's reach... and Faanshi's power, deprived of its final reward, lashed back into her. Overcome, the maiden collapsed in the Rialto, once again barely cognizant of the Praetor who, in respect for her efforts, brought one of his men to help escort her back to Atesh-Gah. Handed off to the Agni-Haidar that guarded the gates of the Varati embassy, stricken senseless by the force of her own overwhelmed magic, Faanshi now has been taken to the room still considered to belong to Kiera Khalida... though Faanshi claims only the smallest portion of it for the cot on which she sleeps. While the shudra and naraki of Atesh-Gah murmur to one another of why the halfbreed girl has been brought back to them in such a state, Faanshi slumbers, unaware that one in Atesh-Gah feels a different kind of concern than simply when she'll be fit again for the duties of a servant. And as he had done for her the last time he'd found her reeling under the assault of her own magic, Sevilen comes to Faanshi's aid... *===========================< In Character Time >==========================* Time of day: Night (Dawnside) Date on Aether: Friday, September 18, 3904. Year on Earth: 1504 A.D. Phase of the Moon: Waning Crescent Season: Late Summer Weather: Clouds Temperature: Warm *==========================================================================* Sevilen enters from the Hallway. Sevilen has arrived. Sevilen knocks on the door quietly. From within the room that has housed Kiera Khalida -- at least when Kiera Khalid has deigned to set foot within the halls of Atesh-Gah -- there is no immediate answer. It takes a few moments before a voice from the other side of the door calls out weakly, shakily, "W-who's there...?" Sevilen speaks softly. "It is I. I inquire to your health, and if you require water, or food." "Sevilen...?" There's uncertainty and disorientation in that faint call, mostly muffled by the door. Several seconds pass, and then comes the addendum: "Come... come in..." Sevilen enters carefully, a small basket in hand. "It is I." And within the room is Faanshi, who is on her feet, and tucking the edges of her veil hastily into place with hands that seem none too steady. Neither does the rest of her seem particularly pleased with the notion of standing, either, as she tries to bob her head in greeting, her gaze lowered by simple virtue of the fact that keeping it down and her eyes closed makes her less dizzy. "N... namaste', Sevilen... forgive me... I... what time is it? Do they need me in the kitchens...?" Sevilen speaks softly. "No. I bring you food, and drink, that you may rest and recover your strength. I beseech you to lie once more, and not risk a collapse." Lying down. Lying down sounds _very_ good. Faanshi is in no shape to argue with the gentle, firm advice, and moreover, she's all too aware of it, fledgling healer instincts driving it home through her otherwise scattered thoughts. She doesn't, however, lay down; she merely sits down heavily upon the little cot set up against one wall, which apparently serves her as her bed rather than the actual bed that occupies the chamber. "I don't feel very well," she murmurs in a plaintive, childlike tone. Sevilen moves to set the basket down beside you. "Would that I could heal you. Alas, it is beyond my power. But I have brought you food, I hope that you shall eat." he takes a few steps back, eyes observing you in their watchful way. "I shall leave, so that you shall be at ease." Think, Faanshi. Try to clear the aftermath of magic out of your mind, for all that you are still sick and weak and death has been haunting your dreams... "Don't go!" she finds herself blurting all at once, though she dares not look at her visitor, not directly. Her shaking hands accept the basket and reach for it, as she blindly fumbles into its contents in search of water. "I... Imphadi Sevilen, I... I mean, thank you..." Sevilen nods, gently moving yo press a small canteen of sorts into your grip. "I am here, and shall remain so." Trying to drink water when one is wearing a veil is a somewhat delicate operation. Shaking though she obviously is, Faanshi manages to retain awareness of this, and she turns timidly away from the young man to move her face out of his line of sight. Only then can she really begin gulping down mouthfuls of the water, and in between desperate swallows she mumbles tinily, "Wh-what... hour is it? I shouldn't have slept... they'll look for me... I shouldn't have slept...." Sevilen speaks softly. "I shall mind the door, if you so wish. It is no matter for me." He shifts, turning from you. "There is also juice within the basket, and fruit, and bread. Rest and regain your strenght." "All... all this, for me?" Faanshi lowers the small waterskin, her head turning slightly back towards her visitor, though her gaze remains demurely lowered. There remains no strength in her voice, however. Sevilen speaks softly. "If you wish, I shall turn my back, so that you may eat with dignity." "Thank you," comes the tiny murmur from the girl. She shifts awkwardly where she sits, into a bit more of a comfortable position. Even when trying to eat, Faanshi seems to barely make much noise, and her motions are very slow, very careful. She drinks down the water first, giving some of the food in the basket an uneasy glance, as though the sight of food at the moment may well be playing havoc with her equilibrium. Sevilen remains still, minding his earlier offer. He watches the wall opposite you with an unwavering gaze, listening carefully to the sounds of your meal. It does not take her long, because of her system's rebellion against nourishment at the moment, to eat what she can manage: a few tentative bites of fruit and bread, a nibble of cheese. The maiden does, however, finish the water. And finally, her eyes closed against the spinning of her head along with memory of what she'd seen in the Rialto that morning, she fumbles to pull her veil back into place. "Thank you, imphadi," comes her murmur again. "I do not know how I can repay you...." Sevilen shakes his head. "To regain your health is more than enough, healer. it is not for me to decide the repayment, but that you are well is enough." "You... are the only one... who calls me that," Faanshi whispers uncertainly. Sevilen speaks in gentle tones, still as unmoving as rock. "Am I? It is but a statement of truth. You are a healer, and your actions are both courageous and noble." Silence. Then, sitting there with her head bowed now and her hands clasping tightly at her breast, Faanshi whispers, "I do not... feel very brave, Imphadi Sevilen..." Sevilen turns to regard you, voice gentle. "We are percieved by the eyes of others, and those who write history shall remember you as such. I have heard of you, before meeting you, healer." The figure in sari and veil goes very still. Faanshi is not at all certain she wants to know what this unexpected visitor, this young man who has come to her aid twice now, has heard of her. All she can bring to mind is the look of disgust on the face of the hurt man she'd tried to heal within Atesh-Gah as she whispers, her words flavored with apprehension, "You have...?" Sevilen nods. "Your actions show courage. You have a noble heart. I could not think otherwise, healer." His hands press together, and he watches you quietly. Drawing in a long, slow, shuddering breath beneath her veil, Faanshi for a few moments seems oddly harmed by those softly spoken words, as though they'd struck her like a dagger. But then the breath comes back out in the faintest of sighs, a sound that may almost be one of giddy relief. Those eyes of hers flicker closed as she feels tears pricking at their corners, and it is with an audible effort that she breathes yet again, "Thank you, Imphadi Sevilen..." Something in this third proferred thanks, though, rings clearer and truer than the first two, something that hints at good having been done for this exhausted maiden. Sevilen speaks gently still, watching the expressions and body language of the girl. "I cannot lie to you, healer. Those words are my truth." He actually softens his shoulders, a bit, from their normally stilled and clinical posture. A bit of emotion, here, to betray his sincerity. Even now, Faanshi does not look up; an artisan might use her for the very model of a demure Varati maiden. But although her gaze remains modestly lowered, there is nothing at all obstructing her ears from drinking in Sevilen's proffered words, and the tone in which he delivers them. The young shudra's frame subtly eases. "You do me much honor," she murmurs wonderingly, her voice small and shy and tired. "I cannot... begin to think of how to repay...." Sevilen folds his hands in his lap, carefully attentive. "I do not ask anything of you. There is no need for you to thank me. If your conscience demands it, then I can respect your nee, and shall not aruge." Faanshi's conscience, indeed, tells her that something should be done in return for Sevilen's kindness... though at this moment in time, with her very being bone-weary, and flickers of death still teasing at the edges of her memory, it's all she can do to sit upright there in the chair. "I... wish that I could do something for you, Imphadi," she murmurs, pacing her words oddly as she expends effort to speak. Then it occurs to her to add, "But... I-I will be leaving soon, for a little while... if Imphada Kiera lets me... I could do something before I go... sew a shirt, or, or perhaps, if you need any herbs...? I have a little..." For a moment, for just a moment, the girl peeks up as her words escape her, her voice turning anxious. Sevilen speaks in his subtle tones. "Perhaps, when you are once again well." he actually looks down when you speak, turning to hide his face from you. He takes a slightly defensive posture at something in your statement. Unfortunately, with her gaze demurely averted, it's difficult for Faanshi to read the body language of someone with whom she's conversing. She does, however, earnestly blurt, "I... will be all right... tomorrow, I hope... after I sleep..." Assuming she does, in fact, sleep and not dream -- but Imphadi Sevilen need not know this. Sevilen nods slowly. "Then I shall speak with you then, when youa re recovered, healer." He does not rise immediately, however, perhaps remembering something said earlier. She is weary, so very weary, and the thought of curling up into a small ball and sleeping for days on end tempts Faanshi so greatly that she cannot help but peek at her cot, longingly, over the top of her veil. But she bites down on the little whimper that tries to escape her; she must, she tells herself, but strong. Shudra though she might be, she was raised by a woman of the kshatri, and she will not rise or move until the man who is visiting her does so. Her conscience pricks her to offer him thanks again -- but that same breeding of hers reminds her that he has asked her not to do that, and thus, all Faanshi says is a quiet, "All right, Imphadi Sevilen..." Fnially, he does rise, carefully, as he does with all things. "I shallleave you to rest, and heal, healer." He inclines his head, unblinking eyes never leaving your forms. As she senses Sevilen's standing, Faanshi lifts herself up cautiously to her feet, eying the floor a trifle dubiously as though she fears it might slide out from beneath her feet. "I will rest," she promises tinily. "Imphadi Sevilen, would you... will you please tell the mistress of the kitchens that I-I will be... up as early as I can, tomorrow?" Sevilen speaks softly. "I am inclined to tell her that you will be in when you ahve recovered, and not before, lest we miss you in the future for ill health." Faanshi's resolve falters a little at this, as once more seventeen years of breeding remind her not to contradict a man. "If you would... please tell her that, then, imphadi...?" she murmurs. Sevilen inclines his head. "Of course, healer. Rest and recover from your efforts." He makes his way carefully to the door, hand smoving to open it. "Namaste', Imphadi Sevilen," is Faanshi's softly breathed reply, as she succeeds in a proper dipping of her head over her clasped hands. Sevilen returns the gesture, before stepping out of the room. Sevilen opens the door and steps out into the Hallway of Atesh-Gah. Sevilen has left. [End log.]