Vira's Fire

Chapter 2

Clutching my ribs tightly, I take a deep breath. My lungs flood with oxygen, relieved to have gulped down the air. Yet, a chest-rattling cough escapes my lips upon exhaling. I wheeze at the sharp pain in my lower ribs. I'm not healed fully yet. I stare up at the ceiling. They took down the canopy above the bed. I don't remember when. I must have been asleep. I feel a ping of anger and sadness at this. I liked looking at the stars. Something about them reminded me of some distant past. The images of my parents flash in my mind. I don't remember anything about who I am or where I came from, but the bed canopy triggered that memory. It is possible that something else here in the castle can help me remember more.

Light filters into the room from the large, decorated windows of the balcony doors. Outside it is barely morning, the veil of darkness is retreating slowly. I watch as the light slowly becomes brighter. Only to reveal a violent snowstorm that paints the sky grey and the air itself white. Any light the sun gifts me is muted and dull. Still, it is enough for light to slowly illuminate the room I'm in.

For the most part, it is the same as I remember. Its muted white stone is rough and odd. There is a fireplace directly across the room from the bed. Embers are glowing red hot against the black and grey burnt logs. The fire is dead. No wonder it's freezing in here. I watch as little clouds form from my breathing.

My eyes drift back to the fireplace. There are two large windows on either side of the bookcases that flank the fireplace. The windows are large and arched with window seats. I sigh and sit up. The room is empty. The bowl of broth Meadow brought me is still on the table next to me. I drank most of it last night. I can't tell if it is her medicine or the broth but I feel stronger.

I yawn and stretch my arms above my head. I wince. I put my hand under my gown. There's a bandage there that I hadn't realized before. It stretches over my left shoulder and under my arm. I have no idea what kind of wound it is. I wonder if it is as bad as my leg or just a bite like my hip.

Either way, I refrain from moving my arm anymore. It stings. Looking around the room, my eyes find the half-full bowl of broth again. It reminds me of Meadow and her black salve. My eyes widen. I tear off the covers and examine my right leg. The bandages over my wound make it impossible to tell how bad it is.

I untie the knot and slowly unravel the bandages. Underneath, the green plant fibers Meadow used have dissolved completely into the black salve. Below, there is a red-pink layer of new skin growing. The bigger dents in my flesh have raised slightly. She was right. It's as if the fibers from the plant acted as a replacement structure for the flesh to grow into.

I move my toes. The pain is significantly better but hasn't subsided completely. There is still a deep ache that cause a low groan to pass my lips when I move. However much it may hurt, I can't help but marvel at the medicine. I'm astonished that her pultice worked this quickly. Almost too quickly. Either she's a genius, a mad genius, or I'm still hallucinating.

Comparing Meadow to Ezra and what little I know of Brienne, something seems off about her. She isn't quite the same as them. For one thing, she's shorter than them. More chaotic, too. Everything they do seems more elegant and intentional. Yet, fierce and strong. Their very presence in the room is enough to make me cower. I don't like it. I feel out of place. Especially around Ezra. His presence is threatening. I recall when he held a needle to my wound to intimidate me.

Brienne seemed more gentle, but I haven't seen her yet. I met her when my eyes were still infected. My thoughts drift back to Ezra. I wonder why he is healing someone he obviously thinks is a threat to his people. If he doesn't believe me when I say I don't know how I got here, why would he continue helping me? What happens to me when his work is complete? Will I be free to go after I am healed? I'm not sure. I don't belong here. What's worse is I can't do much about it. At least not yet. My limbs still ache from getting mauled. I laugh. I don't even remember it that much, but I'm still paying the price.