Raven's Shadow 01 - Blood Song

“You were born here?”

 

 

She nodded. “I was lucky enough to complete my training in only two years. The Aspect offered me any posting in the Realm. I chose this one.”

 

The hesitancy in her voice told him he was probably the first person to hear her reveal so much of her past. “Because this is… home?”

 

“Because I felt this is where I needed to be.” She moved to the door. “We have work, brother.”

 

The next few days were hard but rewarding, not least because he was constantly in Sister Sherin’s presence. The parade of injured and ill coming through the door provided plenty of opportunity to increase his meagre healing skills as Sherin began to impart some of her knowledge, teaching him the best pattern to use when stitching a cut and the most effective mix of herbs for aches in the stomach or head. However, it quickly became obvious the skills she possessed would never be his, she had an eye and an ear for sickness so unerring it reminded him of his own affinity for the sword. Luckily there was no further need for him to display his skills as the level of aggression amongst patients had declined considerably since his first day. Word had spread through the southern quarter that there was a brother from the Sixth here and most of the more shady characters turning up to request treatment wisely kept their tongues still and violent urges in check.

 

The only negative aspect to his time in the Fifth was the constant attention of the other brothers and sisters. He had continued to take his meals with Sister Sherin late in the evening and they soon found themselves joined by a cluster of novices eager for Vaelin’s tales of life in the Sixth Order or a retelling of what they termed his ‘rescue of Sister Sherin’, a tale which seemed to have become a minor legend in only a few days. As ever, Sister Henna was his most attentive audience.

 

“Weren’t you scared, Brother?” she asked, wide brown eyes gazing up at him. “When the big brute was going to kill Sister Sherin? Didn’t it frighten you?”

 

Beside him, Sherin, who until now had borne the intrusion on her meal time with stoic calm, pointedly let her cutlery fall onto her plate with a loud clatter.

 

“I… have been trained to control my fear,” he replied, instantly realising how conceited it sounded. “Not as well as Sister Sherin, though,” he went on quickly. “She remained calm throughout.”

 

“Oh she never gets bothered by anything,” Henna waved a hand dismissively. “So, why didn’t you kill him?”

 

“Sister!” Brother Curlis exclaimed.

 

She lowered her gaze, a flush creeping up her cheeks. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled.

 

“It matters not, sister.” He patted her hand awkwardly, which seemed to make her blush even more.

 

“Brother Vaelin and I have had a long day,” Sister Sherin said. “We would like to eat in peace.”

 

Although she wasn’t a Mistress, her word evidently commanded obedience because their small audience quickly dispersed back to their rooms.

 

“They respect you,” Vaelin observed.

 

She shrugged. “Perhaps. But I am not liked here. I am envied and resented by most of my brothers and sisters. The Aspect warned me it might be this way.” Her tone indicated little concern, she was simply stating a fact.

 

“You could be judging them too harshly. Perhaps if you mixed with them more…”

 

“I am not here for them. The Fifth Order is the means by which I can help the people I need to help.”

 

“No room for friendship? A soul in whom to confide, share a burden?”

 

She gave him a guarded glance. “You said it yourself, brother. Things are different here.”

 

“Well, although you may not welcome it, I hope you know you have my friendship.”

 

She said nothing, sitting still, eyes fixed on her half-empty plate.

 

Was this how it was for my mother? he wondered. Was she so isolated by her abilities? Did they resent her too? He found it hard to imagine. He remembered a woman of kindness, warmth and openness. She could never have been as closed to emotion as Sherin. Sherin is formed by whatever happened to her beyond the gates, he realised. Out there in the southern quarter. My mother would have had a different life. A thought occurred to him then, something he had never considered before. Who was she before she came here? What was her family name? Who were my grandparents?

 

Suddenly preoccupied he rose from the table. “Sleep well, sister. I’ll see you in the morning.”

 

“It’s your last day tomorrow is it not?” she asked, looking up at him. Oddly her eyes seemed brighter than usual, it almost seemed she was tearful but the idea was absurd.

 

“It is. Although, I still hope to learn more before I leave.”

 

“Yes.” She looked away. “Yes of course. Sleep well.”