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Isei

"I've told you people," a voice said, "this place isn't large enough for a conference. One person watches her. The rest stay outside. She isn't going to melt through the walls."

Eluvie let them settle that matter while she picked her way toward a corner of the room. A hum of activity rose, lingered, and then subsided. Then, Eluvie heard the doctor's voice beside her.

"It's good to see you again," he sounded bright. "How has your week been?"

Eluvie kept silent, and he continued on, as if her clear disdain was a pleasant response.

"You can step on the scale now," he said.

She climbed onto a platform in front of her and waited.

"Hmm," the doctor said.

"Is something wrong?" Madam Ria asked.

"This is the third drop this month," the doctor said. "Altogether, she's down a pound now. You are feeding her, correct?"

Madam Ria scoffed. "Eating is the only thing she does."

"I'll have to take another look at her diet," the doctor said. He sounded mildly worried, so Eluvie filed that fact away for further rumination. She listened for a hint from the voices, but they offered nothing.

"For now," the doctor said, "we'll reduce her donation today."

"No," Madam Ria said.

"I'm the doctor here."

"Then know your place," Madam Ria said. "You'll collect the normal four portions."

The doctor guided Eluvie off the platform. Once off, she began undoing her dress for the second time that day.

"Your dedication is laudable."

Amu, the doctor, possessed a sarcastic tone sharp enough to cut sociopaths, and he often deployed it at Madam Ria. Hearing it was one of Eluvie's few pleasures.

"However," he continued, "the rulers have four years of blood in stock. They will survive if I take a little bit less today."

"That is for me to decide," Madam Ria said. "You will take what I tell you, or someone else will do the job."

Amu scoffed. "Once again, it is my medical opinion that we should proceed with caution."

"I'm not stupid, Amu," Madam Ria said. "You feel bad for her. It's touching. But I won't keep having this fight with you. You might be skilled, but you're not irreplaceable."

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"Oh, for heaven's sake!" Amu's shout made Eluvie jump. "Is there any reason she can't wear something else for these things?"

Eluvie scoffed. She had both her dress and shift pulled down to her waist, exposing her back for his examination. If he didn't want to see her naked, he was free to find another job.

Madam Ria's voice matched Eluvie's disdain. "Let me know when you're done," she said. At her departure, one of the other attendants came through the door, ensuring that Eluvie had two watchers once again - excluding the doctor.

"You want proof that these people are stupid?" Amu said as he walked over to Eluvie. "I am the only doctor in existence who has ever treated one of your kind. But I have to run my medical opinion through her."

Eluvie maintained her silence.

"You can be honest," Amu said. "Which do you think is brighter: her or three hundred rocks piled on top of each other?"

Eluvie gave him more silence. She had already explained to him that they were not friends. That he continued this act likely said something about his own intelligence.

"Fine," he said. "It's probably her. But not by much." He sighed and moved to stand behind her. "If something happens to you, their most important 'asset', all the blame will fall on me. And of course, you won't enjoy it either. So let's do this as best as we can. I'm going to examine your back now."

His touch was gentler than Madam Ria's. After removing the bandages, he poked lightly at the skin beside her wounds. It barely caused any pain, but only because she was already in so much.

"The color looks good," he said. "There is no sign of infection. Does it feel different?"

Eluvie gave no reply, and he didn't wait for one.

"You know," he said, "there is a lot more road left in your life. You never know what could happen in the future. I need your help to make sure you're healthy enough for whatever happens. How tragic would it be if you escaped, and then died because of an illness you could have told me about?"

He sighed again at her silence.

"Alright," he said. "There's no sign of your wings growing, so the treatments are still working. As usual, if you feel any itching on your skin or back, come here immediately. It doesn't matter if you think you're imagining it. Both of us have only one job, and that is to keep you as healthy as we're allowed."

He dressed her wounds again, then retreated to make note of his findings. Meanwhile, Eluvie dressed, found the clinic's sole bed, and climbed into it. It took a while to get comfortable. She had to push away the straps attached to the bed, and then settle into the dent already made by her previous visits. Once comfortable, she pulled up the sleeve on her left arm and let its wrist hang slightly off the edge of the bed. She could have fought the process or simply been less cooperative, but she had since run out of energy for useless battles.

Amu returned to her side and spoke. "I'm going to take your pulse now, then we'll draw the blood. If you start feeling ill, let me know. Whatever Ria says, my priority is still protecting you."

It was Amu who had originally removed her wings. She had been a child, barely five years old, dragged into an unfamiliar place, bound, blinded, and prodded. His had been the only kind voice she had heard. Twenty years on, he acted like his betrayal had never happened.

She had never asked for an explanation. Whatever it was, it would never absolve him. If the time ever came to account for debts, she would let all the money he had earned for his work take the place of her sympathy.

He took her pulse with an experienced hand, departed again to record his finding, and then returned with a blade.

“I’m going to make the cut now,” he said.

She no longer feared the cut. What had once been painful and terrifying had become mundane from repetition. Blood flowed down her hand and into a bowl placed on a stool beside the bed.

At times like this, when she was completely still and lying in a bed, she felt the urge to pray. She did not know its source. She could not remember her parents, and her imprisonment did not come with a chaplain. Still, the urge would beat at her until she succumbed to it.

So she gave in quickly. It was a short prayer; the Creator had never shown any interest in her life. Still, she prayed for escape, to avoid Madam Ria’s planned punishment, and for an afternoon of uninterrupted sleep.

As the compulsion released her, depression took its place. She often tried not to look into the future, but it kept coming nonetheless.

“Oh, don’t worry, Isei,” a voice said, “everything will be fine.”

“Shut up!”

“I didn’t say anything. I just wanted to comfort her.”

“There’s no talking allowed.”

Then they were doing a terrible job, Eluvie thought. They hadn’t called her ‘Isei’ in a while. What it meant was beyond her knowledge, but they always said the word in reverence. In the past, she’d imagined herself to be the captive princess of a tribute of winged immortals, but the daydream had since lost its charm. If the voices were not her delusion, they were delusional themselves. No rescue was coming.

She heard glass clinking. Amu had swapped out the collection bowl and was covering the old one. There would be two more to fill.

She never pinpointed the moment in which it went wrong. She only became aware that she had lost seconds. Amu was changing the bowl again, but he had just done it. And she could not tell if this was the third bowl or the last. For a brief moment, she considered speaking up. The moment passed unceremoniously; she had no obligation to assist her captors in preserving the blood source.

Besides, would it really kill her? Amu would probably notice it when she went unconscious. He would suspect that she had not warned him. Would he tell Lady Mirab? Even if he didn’t, Lady Mirab had a habit of harshly punishing suspected infractions. Perhaps she should warn him.

Her mind went blank.