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Ch 2 The end

Ch 2 The end

Ch 2 The End

Waking early the next morning in the pre-dawn light. I was deeply confused. There was somebody in the room with me, just sitting on the couch with a candle next to them. I couldn’t tell who it was from here. They had dark hair though. My grogginess faded as my adrenaline came to me. I slowly and quietly slipped from the bed off the far side and circled whoever it was. Being as sneaky as I could, they never saw me as I peered from the floor at the end of the couch. And I was relieved. It was Misha. Doing some kind of needle work, by candlelight. They could not be good for her. I stood and walked into her view. She simply stopped what she was doing and laid her hands in her lap.

“Dress please.” Was all I stated.

Misha set aside her workings and strode to the wardrobe that I just noticed. It was talked than the captain. I followed along behind her. She opened it up and held something at her waist. I assumed it was for me to judge. It was a pretty blue dress. More simple than what I had previously suffered, so I simply nodded to her.

She stripped me of my nightgown and helped me into the blue dress. After tying off the waist ribbon. I decided now was a good time for the bathroom. “Potty” I told her and walked away. She followed me. I waved at her to stop at the door, and she nodded.

I finished my business then found a problem. I couldn’t reach the sink to wash my hands. “Help please.” Misha came in. “No stool.” Was all I said. She simply picked me up and leaned me over the sink. So, I washed my hands and dried them off. Misha set me back down.

I looked at her. “Food please.” She nodded and set up my little table once more. Then waved to me to sit. So, I did. She turned and left.

She returned not with a cart but a simple platter. She set it down on my table and uncovered it. There were three little plates. One had biscuits and gravy in small cut up chunks. One had a cup of fruit. And the last had links of sausage. This was truly a rich breakfast. I took my time and cycled through bites of each. It was beyond good. I didn’t quite finish the biscuits, but I ate all the fruit and sausages.

Misha cleaned up my table. I didn’t have the muscle control or dexterity to not make such a mess as I am now. But I could improve that. She set the platter on the side table near the couch. And turned to me. I sat there, I suppose she was waiting for instructions.

“We go walk?” I asked her. She gave me a nod. “Outside garden?” I continued. She nodded again. So, I stood and straightened out my dress and headed for the door. Misha opened it for me and led me to the gardens just outside the training field. I didn’t have my sticks, so I needed new ones. Time to find some.

I started searching for two decent sticks in the underbrush. Where the gardeners let the fallen leaves turn to mulch on their own. I found a good one that just had a couple of knots in it. I soon found another potential, but it had a few smaller sticks coming off it. No matter how I tried I couldn’t break them off. Misha motioned the stick from me and easily broke the smaller twigs from it. So, I smiled at her. I had my two fighting sticks back. So, it was time to practice.

I knew something of stances and footwork. I had been watching the guards. So, I practiced. And I waved my sticks around. Dual wielding is so much cooler. One sword to strike one sword to defend. Then use both swords to strike. That was just cool in my head. Being able to switch back and forth like that. But you had to be fast. So fast, faster than your opponent. Faster than you could see. So, I practiced. Out here in the garden. I waved my arms. I swung my sticks. I got used to the weight of them. There were a few days I went to bed so tired I couldn’t lift my arms. Or where I tripped over my own feet. But I wanted to be able to do it. I wanted to be the fastest dual wielder. It would take so much time and effort though. So that’s why I started now.

Misha just watched as I hopped and danced around waving my sticks about. I don’t know what she thought of me. Eventually one of the guards found us, and then he brought the captain over.

“Back again little miss?”

“Yes.” I said as petulantly as I could muster. He was going to take my sticks away again.

“You know us guards are here to protect you from the monsters.”

“Not when I'm big.” Is my response.

“Even when you're big and strong and can defend yourself. A noble lady doesn’t need to fight for herself.” His smile was a little forced.

“Hafta leave.” Was my response.”

“Ah, come on. Why would the cute little mis have to leave?” He seemed a little worried now actually.

“Kicked out.” I sighed.

His face went a little dark now. Before he forced his smile back on. “Now who told the little miss she would get kicked out, hmm?”

“When 15? Won’t?”

He froze for a moment. So, I wasn’t the only one who had figured it out. There was no love lost between me and the baron's family. The only goodwill I had was that I was a child, and the captain asked for it. He couldn’t promise me a good noble's life. He knew better. I knew better.

I sighed and went back to fighting with my sticks. The captain stayed where he was crouched down watching me. Thinking more about what I said. Judging my actions now. He could see what I saw. That I wouldn’t be welcomed with a betrothal like most noble ladies. Nor would I be welcomed at any academy. As far as I was aware I was a bastard's child. I was lucky I wasn’t dumped onto some patsy or left for dead in an orphanage. I had the chance to grow my skills, in a more stable and healthier environment. Where I was fed, clean, and had something like healthcare. There were little dangers to me here. The only thing that would get hurt most were my feelings. And those were long since buried. I had died after all.

*

Waking early the next morning in the pre-dawn light. I was deeply confused. There was somebody in the room with me, just sitting on the couch with a candle next to them. I couldn’t tell who it was from here. They had dark hair though. My grogginess faded as my adrenaline came to me. I slowly and quietly slipped from the bed off the far side and circled whoever it was. Being as sneaky as I could, they never saw me as I peered from the floor at the end of the couch. And I was relieved. It was Misha. Doing some kind of needle work, by candlelight. They could not be good for her. I stood and walked into her view. She simply stopped what she was doing and laid her hands in her lap.

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

“Dress please.” Was all I stated.

Misha set aside her workings and strode to the wardrobe that I just noticed. It was talked than the captain. I followed along behind her. She opened it up and held something at her waist. I assumed it was for me to judge. It was a pretty blue dress. More simple than what I had previously suffered, so I simply nodded to her.

She stripped me of my nightgown and helped me into the blue dress. After tying off the waist ribbon. I decided now was a good time for the bathroom. “Potty” I told her and walked away. She followed me. I waved at her to stop at the door, and she nodded.

I finished my business then found a problem. I couldn’t reach the sink to wash my hands. “Help please.” Misha came in. “No stool.” Was all I said. She simply picked me up and leaned me over the sink. So, I washed my hands and dried them off. Misha set me back down.

I looked at her. “Food please.” She nodded and set up my little table once more. Then waved to me to sit. So, I did. She turned and left.

She returned not with a cart but a simple platter. She set it down on my table and uncovered it. There were three little plates. One had biscuits and gravy in small cut up chunks. One had a cup of fruit. And the last had links of sausage. This was truly a rich breakfast. I took my time and cycled through bites of each. It was beyond good. I didn’t quite finish the biscuits, but I ate all the fruit and sausages.

Misha cleaned up my table. I didn’t have the muscle control or dexterity to not make such a mess as I am now. But I could improve that. She set the platter on the side table near the couch. And turned to me. I sat there, I suppose she was waiting for instructions.

“We go walk?” I asked her. She gave me a nod. “Outside garden?” I continued. She nodded again. So, I stood and straightened out my dress and headed for the door. Misha opened it for me and led me to the gardens just outside the training field. I didn’t have my sticks, so I needed new ones. Time to find some.

I started searching for two decent sticks in the underbrush. Where the gardeners let the fallen leaves turn to mulch on their own. I found a good one that just had a couple of knots in it. I soon found another potential, but it had a few smaller sticks coming off it. No matter how I tried I couldn’t break them off. Misha motioned the stick from me and easily broke the smaller twigs from it. So, I smiled at her. I had my two fighting sticks back. So, it was time to practice.

I knew something of stances and footwork. I had been watching the guards. So, I practiced. And I waved my sticks around. Dual wielding is so much cooler. One sword to strike one sword to defend. Then use both swords to strike. That was just cool in my head. Being able to switch back and forth like that. But you had to be fast. So fast, faster than your opponent. Faster than you could see. So, I practiced. Out here in the garden. I waved my arms. I swung my sticks. I got used to the weight of them. There were a few days I went to bed so tired I couldn’t lift my arms. Or where I tripped over my own feet. But I wanted to be able to do it. I wanted to be the fastest dual wielder. It would take so much time and effort though. So that’s why I started now.

Misha just watched as I hopped and danced around waving my sticks about. I don’t know what she thought of me. Eventually one of the guards found us, and then he brought the captain over.

“Back again little miss?”

“Yes.” I said as petulantly as I could muster. He was going to take my sticks away again.

“You know us guards are here to protect you from the monsters.”

“Not when I'm big.” Is my response.

“Even when you're big and strong and can defend yourself. A noble lady doesn’t need to fight for herself.” His smile was a little forced.

“Hafta leave.” Was my response.”

“Ah, come on. Why would the cute little mis have to leave?” He seemed a little worried now actually.

“Kicked out.” I sighed.

His face went a little dark now. Before he forced his smile back on. “Now who told the little miss she would get kicked out, hmm?”

“When 15? Won’t?”

He froze for a moment. So, I wasn’t the only one who had figured it out. There was no love lost between me and the baron's family. The only goodwill I had was that I was a child, and the captain asked for it. He couldn’t promise me a good noble's life. He knew better. I knew better.

I sighed and went back to fighting with my sticks. The captain stayed where he was crouched down watching me. Thinking more about what I said. Judging my actions now. He could see what I saw. That I wouldn’t be welcomed with a betrothal like most noble ladies. Nor would I be welcomed at any academy. As far as I was aware I was a bastard's child. I was lucky I wasn’t dumped onto some patsy or left for dead in an orphanage. I had the chance to grow my skills, in a more stable and healthier environment. Where I was fed, clean, and had something like healthcare. There were little dangers to me here. The only thing that would get hurt most were my feelings. And those were long since buried. I had died after all.

*

It wasn't a great life. I was abandoned to foster care when I was six. After getting sick all the time. By the time I was nine I was diagnosed with childhood leukemia. That was basically a death sentence to my child self. From then on it was in and out of hospitals. From one fostering to another. I never stayed in one house for more than a few months before I had to be hospitalized again. Until I was twelve, when I became hospitalized for good. I was transferred a few times, finally going to a hospice for children like me. It wasn't too bad. I was just too far gone at that point. I think I was 14 or 15? I could barely move, barely eat. All I did all day was read and play games. There was a library of shared game systems and tablets. Since I slept sporadically, I had a good chance of getting one of the tablets most of the time. Which was lucky for me as they had a special holder and controller. So, I could lay in bed and barely move as I played my character around the screen.

I think open world rpgs were my favorite. I could go anywhere and do anything. So many questlines to explore. I wasn't stuck doing one thing or to one storyline. If I wanted to go do wide quests for a week straight I could. Even if the evil with king was coming for me still. In some games that could cause problems, but not all.

Those were my favorites, where something is always going on in the background and you never know if you’ll get there in time. It's much more fun. Especially if you come in the aftermath and have to fix it instead of preventing it.

Looking back on my life, I was pretty miserable. My whole world was a hospital bed. Filled with daily pain. That meds couldn’t stop. No matter how many I tried. And I did try. I took as many as they gave me. Hoping for something to help. All the surgeries, all the biopsies. It came to an end eventually.

But I was fine with that. My pain came to an end. I experienced so many different worlds. I never got the chance to experience the ‘real’ world. But I got to life in my dreams. Which is saying more than most I think. I got the chance to explore the mightiest of forests. The deepest of oceans. The furthest reaches of the plains. The worlds of imaginations of others and my own. It wasn't such a bad thing. But it came to an end. There was one day I couldn't get enough breath. No matter how hard I tried. They gave me an oxygen mask. It helped a little. But it didn't stop my panic that I couldn't breathe. I kept struggling to breathe. I think one of my lungs collapsed. It hurt. That my body finally gave up on me. No matter how long I fought.

In my struggle to breathe, I forgot to keep my eyes open, and fell into a slumber. From which I did not awaken.

*