Oath of Steel

23 |An Unexpected Call|

Rosalynde groaned at her chamber's door slamming open, her mind struggling to fully grasp consciousness. Her right hand under the pillow wrapped around her trusted gun, her left shielding her sensitive pale eyes from the whitish reflection of the glass panels giving over the main courtyard.

Turning on the side she cracked an eye open, spying who in the world had been so brazen to enter her chambers at the crack of dawn.

With her forehead drenched with sweat she pushed herself upwards with her arms, elbows popping her bust up, her gaze sharp as it could get right after waking up.

The venom had spread overnight, her thigh traveling in between a menacing numbness and excruciating flashes of agony, both situations had kept her awake for a good half of the night troubling her to no end. The torment met its end after reminiscing about a sack containing medial herbs that Katherine had gifted her to combat insomnia a few years back.

Passionflower, honeysuckle and hops crushed until they all three became light powder, mixed and then thrown into hot water. Checking the steadiness of her hands, she used the gun handle to smash the herbs and roots inside the mortar, rotating the pestle clockwise slowly - making sure to not use too much force to endanger another part of her body.

She'd fallen into a deep slumber after drinking that infusion, her eyes forcefully dropping in a state of drowsiness. The last memory had been the crackling of the tender fire lulling her to sleep.

But now the room felt cold, the fire had died while she was asleep, and the fever that she kept in check was starting to flare up. And the hands shaking her awake were slowly making her lose her last sliver of sanity.

It wasn't Pharah, it was too early for her to be up and moving, nor was it a man; the footsteps too light to belong to a male.

A cascade of shiny blonde hair filled her view, with a set of worried eyes searching for the source of her misery.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Rosalynde seethed to the intruder.

Cleia sat on the side of the bed, the folds of her green dress forming the illusion of vines lacing around flowers in full bloom.

"I heard what happened at District Street and came to check on you," her informant promptly replied, raising her hand to check the temperature of her savior.

Rosalynde made her body fall back on the soft mattress, her silver locks a tangled mess full of nodes. A bath would have been the first thing after getting up from bed.

"I won't ask how you got your hands on the information" She would have only

Cleia pursed her lips in a miserable attempt to keep a snarky remark in check, rolling her eyes at her friend.

"You wouldn't like it," Cleia winked, checking the weather outside briefly before turning her gaze back on the other. Her eyes settled on a particular on Rosalynde's face, carving a hole where her lips were.

Rosalynde knew what Cleia was thinking, her face betraying her thoughts. She was in pain, high with fever and weak thanks to the poison that'd struck her - and yet she could not let go of her feline smile. Cleia was one of the few that knew the history behind her constrained smile, and that was the reason why she kept quiet.

Coughing a few times, a moment of folly escaped from Rosalynde's chest, spots of blood straining her view as her bedsheets were stained red with her young blood.

Gasping for air, Rosalynde pointed her scarred finger towards the adjoined bathroom to her chambers, mouthing an incomprehensible list of herbs. Cleia got up, sprinting inside the bathroom as she started rummaging inside the cabinets.