To say that the way was clear was perhaps overstating it just a touch. Sol could likely figure out a way back to the Eden district. It was as if she couldn’t see the towering cathedral that marked the heart of her home, but it likewise wasn’t as if she was just going to jump up and get over there with no issue. Step one was at least just getting to a point where she was able to walk again without the indignity of asking for help. Crutches, at this point, counted. What freedom it allowed her was largely cut short by the fact that she was, objectively, terrible at using them.

It almost didn’t feel fair. Sol saw some of the others, some with rather fancy crutches or canes or even walkers, near flying around with them. Surely it was going to be that easy, she thought, until she took her first few steps and immediately fell to the floor. The doctor that had been attending to her making sure that she at least wasn’t hurt before laughing at her. The little things one had to suppose. Sol looked at her, no him. This one was a him. He had a kind face, though poor eyes if the thick glasses were any indication. It was probably for the best that someone like that wasn’t handling the finer points of medicine.

“It’ll take some practice Miss Hayward.” His easy going, mint green voice crooned. “But soon enough you’ll be zipping around and able to go get some time in the sunshine more or less by yourself.”

“Does this mean I’ll be moved?” Sol asked as she worked to regain her balance.

“No, but don’t worry you’ll be out of here in no time.” She, he, gently pat her on the back.

Sol nodded and then tried again, taking slow easy steps. Suddenly an alarm blared through the hospital. The attending paled as she leveled her gaze on him.

“What does it mean.”

“Lycan’s, I need to get you to safety.” He gently put his hand on her back and an arm over his shoulder. Starting to hurredly drag Sol away and down an unfamiliar hall.

“I’m a Huntress,” Sol snapped, trying to ignore the pain of her still healing wounds. “Give me my sword and something strong. I’ll fight.”

They rushed down the hall, Sol saw that other doctors and nurses were doing the same. All had the same look of terror, the medical staff were doing their best to put on a brave face but Sol had seen it many times before. Sisters may be strong, but they were never Huntresses. A heavy door opened and Sol found herself deposited on a chair, but before the doctor could rush away she grabbed him by his white coat.

“Give me a blade, if I can’t fight on the front I will protect our Sisters from them.”

He looked at her troubled, breathing hard and glancing around before answering. “Miss Hayward I’m sorry I can’t I have-”

“Doctor Westley,” Sol’s voice cut through the din like a knife. “Give me a weapon, and I will ensure the safety of my fellow patients and Sisters.”

He was conflicted, that much she could tell, but he looked at the others. Some might be able to fight, others most definitely not. This was just those in her ward as well, who knew what condition the others were in? All Sol could do was offer a prayer to the Mother and hold fast.

“I’ll try, but please. Stay here.”

It was probably the best that she was going to get out of him, so she let him go. He scrambled away, looking back as if afraid she was going to leap up again, and tore off towards another part of their ward. Likely to grab more people before coming here. Given their reactions to all of this noise, Sol could only assume that it wasn’t a drill, or that this drill happens so infrequently that it’s indistinguishable from one. Looking at those put in the vault with her Sol only saw shell shocked expressions. Women who have shied away from combat, its not that she could blame them, but still she couldn’t help but have the barest hint of judgement. Things wouldn’t be so disastrous in the Church.

Sol forced herself to her feet with Herculean effort. Leaning heavily against the one crutch she still had Sol stood defiance against the threat. Unarmed she could only keep watch, but she could do that much. Medical staff blew past, only occasionally trying to get her to sit down and rest but she refused.

“Ma’am I implore you,” A nursed said trying to usher Sol away from the entrance. “You need to sit down.”

“If the hospital is in danger then someone needs to be keeping watch. Doctor Westley is on his way with a blade for me.” Standing obstinately before her Sol grit her teeth, her body could do with a lie down but this was not the time.

“Security is already handling it,” She grabbed Sol by the arm and wrenched her back. Dragging Sol towards a bed. “So don’t make things worse than they already are!”

The sudden pain in her chest from the rough handling made Sol gasp for breath and drop the remaining crutch. The nurse made it all look so effortless, never once yielding to what efforts Sol was able to put up for resistance. She struck her, she tried to wrestle out of her grip, she even bit her. And in the fifteen feet that the woman had Sol not once she she even slow. Getting her into the bed was as easy as shoving a child with how easy Sol fell into it, pain blossoming from her stitches.

Click, click.

Just like that, it was over. The nurse huffed as she looked down on Sol and took off just like her fellows. Sol looked up to see what she had done to her, cuffs clung tightly to the bed she was on and her wrist. Trying to move she both heard and felt the clunk of another on the opposite ankle. It was a half assed job but she wasn’t going anywhere. Sol growled in frustration, looking towards where the nurse was rapidly disappearing towards the exit.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“Daughter of a whore!” Sol screamed towards her as she thrashed about on the bed. Wincing with each jerk of her wrist. Taking a breath Sol managed to collect herself just enough to start fiddling with the cuff. Most of it was leather, with some kind of fabric padding, but the way that the cuff itself had absolutely no give lent credence to the idea that it was a metal cuff with some beautification. Sol snarled, realizing that she couldn’t just get out of it, she turned her wrist over and found that there was a lock. “I’m going to rip out her eyes.” She growled.

Her plan was in tatters, and Sol was effectively trapped. She jerked and pulled, looking back at the entrance to the safe room. People had stopped coming in, but the door was still wide open. There was still plenty of opportunity. Sol looked back down at the cuff around her wrist. Staring at it with grim determination. Gritting her teeth so hard she thought they may crack she started to angle her wrist just so, and with a hard yank she felt a little give. Pain shooting up her arm. Sol took a short breath and yanked her arm again, fighting her mind that desperately worked to keep her from destroying her own body. The cuff dug into her flesh, she could feel its bite keenly but she wasn’t free yet. Taking slow deep breaths Sol stared down at the cuff and glanced to the entrance. No one had come in for some time. Her pulse quickened. She couldn’t hear anything over the din, but the patients gibbering with terror and madness did nothing but mask anything that she could have listened for. Sol gathered her will and yanked her arm one last time. Her joints popped and cracked from her shoulder down to her wrist and to her thumb. The cuff found its taste for blood, tearing open her hand without effort.

Click. Click. Click. Click.

The room had gone silent. Sol looked up from her bloodied hand and towards the entrance. The clicking sound echoed through the room and the caverns of her mind. A lycan stood in the entry, and Sol’s blood ran cold. She looked at the cuff around her ankle, she was out of time. If she couldn’t act now they would all die. Adrenaline flooding her Sol angled herself and in one smooth motion she felt her leg come free. Unable to hold back it back Sol screamed, unfortunately drawing the lycan’s attention.

Sol lept off the bed and hobbled towards the beast. Each step agony even with her favoring her still unharmed leg. The smell of blood blessing her with its attention easily. With a beastly snarl it met her in kind. Sol managed to duck under its initial swipe and lunged forward punching it in its throat. She tried to correct herself but the momentum she’d gained was too much, instinctively putting her hands out in front of her to catch her fall Sol’s wrist loudly made its opinion known for it. Crying out again Sol collapsed for a moment as the combined torment of her injuries clouding her mind and all she could do for that precious moment was scream.

Click. Click.

Sol kicked out with her good leg, catching the lycan in its sensitive nose. It howled in rage filled pain, its claws embedding themselves into the nice tiled floor as Sol rolled to the side in desperation. Scrambling to her feet Sol pushed forward and boxed its ears. Here she was, unarmored, unarmed, and injured. At least only one of those was her own fault. The beast yelped, dazed, but still snapped forward towards her. Falling onto her back in her mad dash to get away from it Sol looked up at the lycan, dread worming its way into her heart.

A sword sprouted from the back of its head, the point staring at Sol.

“While I must thank you for buying time, Madam Huntress,” A stern woman’s voice started, pulling the sword back from the body of the beast and starting to clean the blade. “I must insist that you not try this again.”

Sol stared at her. She didn’t recognize this woman but she looked like a Huntress. A proper Huntress from Eden. Sol couldn’t help but stare in wide eye’d amazement.

“I had no choice. It would have killed everyone.” She said lamely.

“And it will be for that reason that I don’t thrash you hard enough that the Mother can’t sit down.”

Sol flinched, but looked down at the floor. If she were put in this situation again she wouldn’t hesitate to do it. This was the reason as to why she was even permitted to live, to protect the women who couldn’t protect themselves. Yet here she was, cowering quivering before this Huntress as if she were still a trainee. Though it couldn’t be denied that she was unable to do anything else. Pain soared through her, rapidly beating down the barricades to her nerves to scream about the damage that she’d done to herself. If the Huntress over her had said anything she couldn’t hear it, she couldn’t focus on it, distantly there was an awareness that she was being moved. It wrenched a scream from her as her wrist and ankle no longer had the cold support of the floor.

Tears streamed down her face, a nurse hovered over her vision started to blur. The slight pinprick that came with her presence was lost to the howling void that was Sol’s senses, but the pain started to fade and soon - blessedly - exhausting relief came with it.

----------------------------------------

Pain did not exist in the quiet oblivion that Sol found herself in every night. She took a deep breath, settling herself before opening her eyes. That glowing mockery of herself was staring at her again. Sol couldn’t help but snarl at it, and it flinched but didn’t move away. Instead it reached for her hand.

Sol drew back, growling in a low tone. “Don’t you dare touch me, aberration.”

“You’re hurt.” It said softly, not shying away from her, taking the hand that she’d mangled in the waking world.

“And it is nothing you are going to help with,” She snapped as she yanked her hand back away from it. It looked at her with a disappointed expression on its shimmering face. “Don’t give me that look. Nothing done here affects the waking world. Even if I wanted your help there is nothing that you could do.”

It seemed resigned but the long hours with it always stretched on. With nothing to differentiate anything but the two of them, a single night’s sleep felt as if she had been here for weeks. If the creature would leave then she could go back to losing herself in that void. Now she was trapped with it.

“How did it happen?”

“Shouldn’t you know?” Sol spat.

“I want to hear you tell it.”

With a great heaving sigh, Sol turned back to look at it. At least her eyes have adjusted to it glow. “Lycans invaded the hospital. I was moved from my treatment to what was supposed to be a safe location.”

“A lycan did this to you?” It asked, horror dawning on its expression.

“No,” She shook her head. “I did.” She held up her injured wrist, “ A nurse cuffed me to one of the beds for paitents. I was the only one there that might be able to defend against an attack, and the doctor who’d promised a weapon to me hadn’t returned yet. Still, a beast found our ‘safe haven’ and I had to act fast.”

It furrowed its brow, looking at her injuries. The gears in its head slowly turning.

“Thus, breaking my wrist and ankle were the only answer. Though… from, well, everything I think I did more than that.” Sol shook her head, wondering if she’d even be able to hold a sword by the time she healed. “I bought enough time for a Huntress to arrive and kill it.”

“Oh.”

That was all it had to say. Leaving her in silence once again. Sol closed her eyes and turned away from it, trying to slip into the comforting darkness but it was chased away with its brilliant light. Whatever comfort that she could find just as easily scattered away like dust on the wind. She finally turned to face the figure, a scowl affixed to her face.

“Why do you stay here? You have the whole of the realm of dreams to entertain yourself. Especially here, you have no shortage of dreams to shine upon.”

It tilted its head in thought, crossing its legs before speaking slowly.

“For the same reason that you come here.”