Kedeshah
05-10-15, 12:25 AM
“Here, this will help with the pain,” Samiria said, handing over a small green jar of salve. The girl took it in shaking hands, casting her eyes to the floor. The waif-like brunette hadn’t made eye contact with the healer, and Sam tilted her head as she regarded her. Lips set in a stalwart smile, she lifted the girl’s chin up so that she could look her in the eyes.
“No need to be ashamed now, it happens now and again in our work. Use the medicine I gave you, and use this – directly on yourself – whenever you feel it bothers you. You can go back to work in a week. Remember what I told you about what to look for? A client comes in with those symptoms and you send him right out the door, okay?” The girl nodded, still not saying anything. Sam leaned forward, kissing her on the forehead and took her arm. “I’ll walk you out.”
As they walked through the building, passing by dimly lit rooms, the only sound was the clicking of Sam’s rowan staff and the scuffing of their feets. The rooms were all the same, clean and tidy, with tables strewn with warm candles, freshly dressed beds, and large tubs. Delicate herbal smells lingered, giving even the hallways a relaxing quality.
Out the front door, Sam saw the streets were well lit, and figures moved along the streets. In the windows, lamps lit up red curtains. The warm glow flooded the streets, marking this place as a haven for the lonely. The brothel that Sam worked in wasn’t quite the same, no windows to advertise but rather a small sign swinging over the door with the crest of a healer. The empty lobby didn’t feel as cold or dark as it really was, and it wasn’t until the girl was gone and the door was closed that a chill moved down the healer’s back.
Sam turned, moving back through the brothel. Something in her gut told her she’d be better off getting home, and so she dutifully started to close doors, locking them and ensuring that lamps were extinguished, rooms were clean. As she came to the back of the building, she noticed a scuff on the floor. Thinking it was dirt at first, as she rubbed at the dark mark with the bottom of her shoe she realized that it was too wet, too red.
Her mouth twisted into a frown, her hand reaching up to rake through short ginger hair. She hadn’t been aware of someone else coming in, but it wasn’t unheard of for some poor prostitute to slip in towards the night, afraid of something out in the street or at home. Slowly, so as not to startle the poor girl, Samiria followed the droplets and smudges left on the floor to a dark room towards the back.
“Hello?” she called as she opened the door and reached for a lantern that sat on a table at the side. When she’d lit the wick, brightening the room, her eyes widened and her breath caught in her throat. What stood by the corner was not at all the girl she’d been expecting.
“No need to be ashamed now, it happens now and again in our work. Use the medicine I gave you, and use this – directly on yourself – whenever you feel it bothers you. You can go back to work in a week. Remember what I told you about what to look for? A client comes in with those symptoms and you send him right out the door, okay?” The girl nodded, still not saying anything. Sam leaned forward, kissing her on the forehead and took her arm. “I’ll walk you out.”
As they walked through the building, passing by dimly lit rooms, the only sound was the clicking of Sam’s rowan staff and the scuffing of their feets. The rooms were all the same, clean and tidy, with tables strewn with warm candles, freshly dressed beds, and large tubs. Delicate herbal smells lingered, giving even the hallways a relaxing quality.
Out the front door, Sam saw the streets were well lit, and figures moved along the streets. In the windows, lamps lit up red curtains. The warm glow flooded the streets, marking this place as a haven for the lonely. The brothel that Sam worked in wasn’t quite the same, no windows to advertise but rather a small sign swinging over the door with the crest of a healer. The empty lobby didn’t feel as cold or dark as it really was, and it wasn’t until the girl was gone and the door was closed that a chill moved down the healer’s back.
Sam turned, moving back through the brothel. Something in her gut told her she’d be better off getting home, and so she dutifully started to close doors, locking them and ensuring that lamps were extinguished, rooms were clean. As she came to the back of the building, she noticed a scuff on the floor. Thinking it was dirt at first, as she rubbed at the dark mark with the bottom of her shoe she realized that it was too wet, too red.
Her mouth twisted into a frown, her hand reaching up to rake through short ginger hair. She hadn’t been aware of someone else coming in, but it wasn’t unheard of for some poor prostitute to slip in towards the night, afraid of something out in the street or at home. Slowly, so as not to startle the poor girl, Samiria followed the droplets and smudges left on the floor to a dark room towards the back.
“Hello?” she called as she opened the door and reached for a lantern that sat on a table at the side. When she’d lit the wick, brightening the room, her eyes widened and her breath caught in her throat. What stood by the corner was not at all the girl she’d been expecting.