Rose groaned, her body felt stiff while her mouth was dry to the point of discomfort. Yet she was comfortable. Far too comfortable. She wanted to go back to sleep but the want of her parched mouth won out. With a gentle groan she took a deep breath and opened her eyes. She could only blink at the ceiling for a moment before realizing it looked odd.

She brought a hand to her eyes, its movement stiff, awkward. She was left to wonder if she got enough sleep before realizing she never got enough. She had to work, always working without a single day off because if she took a day off that was a waste of 3 Étain and an expense she couldn't afford.

“Work.” the word croaked out of her mouth as her eyes flew open in full. She bolted up, her eyes drifted toward a window, where the pale blue of the morning sky peeked through soft curtains. A sinking feeling settled in her chest.

Late.

I’m late.

Very late.

Panic thundered at her heart driving away the last vestiges of sleep. With a curse, she pushed the damp, clinging blanket off her and swung her legs over the edge of the bed before pushing herself off and stumbling. Falling hard to the floor. The unforgiving stone floor met her hands and knees with a sharp kiss that drew blood.

She hummed in miserable pain. Staying there for a moment as she tried to figure out what happened, her muscles burning from strain. For a brief and horrible moment she realized she couldn't move, not as well as she used to but her body failed to obey, she couldn't stand.

As her heart lurched in her throat she sat down, keeping herself upright with her hands as she tried to breath for a moment, to understand. The cold of the wood floor stole away the warmth of her hand, allowing a chill that calmed her down.

She realized then that the floor was wood, not stone. The air was clean, crisp---not stale. Her eyes darted around. At the walls, painted white, the bed, large and inviting and the window, big and open. The more she saw the more she understood her mind catching up to, starting a little too late but realizing all the same. “Where am I?” this was not her home.

She started to the window, a struggle as every movement caused her muscles to complain. Slow, sluggish, but she made her way to her feet and to the window. There, leaning against the rich wood windowsill she looked out as the gentle breeze cooled her warm body. It was still the city, still Marchenne but a different quarter. Still she could see the L'Sept’s Grand Cathedral, the tips of its large seven spires anyway.

“Where am I?” she wondered aloud once more. But she shook her head. She couldn't stay here whatever the case, the sun was high in the sky. She was late, far too late for a reasonable excuse. She eyed around, finding the door with ease and hastened to it. She paused however as she put her hand on the brass handle. The hand, her right, didn't hurt. She used her dominant out of reflex but instead of exacerbating an injury she found the hand quite uninjured.

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She lifted it to her face and examined it, twisting it this way and that, but it was her hand, even clicking softly when she wiggled her fingers. No pain, not even a trace of that thug work on her finger. She could only blink before she had to stumble away from the door as it came crashing open.

As a sharp creek echoed from the door a soft thud came from the floor. Falling butt first, Rose felt a pain shoot up her tailbone. She wasn't able to think about it long however.

“Auntie!” The cry was followed by a full tackle from the girl who yelled it. She embraced rose as they collapsed on the floor.

“Dahlia?” Rose could only question a soft whisper as she blinked.

“Yes!” Dahlia clinged tighter to her, threatening to break something. “Yes, It's me! I'm so glad you're okay!” there was a tremor in her voice, a sniffle. Was she…crying?

“You’re OK!” Dahlia choked out between tears. “You’re really OK!”

“OK?” she managed to put a hand on the child's back, giving her a gentle rub. “Of course, I’m okay.” She struggled a bit but managed to raise both herself and the girl to their knees at least. She would have liked to move to the bed or something softer but for now she needed to comfort the girl. Something was clearly wrong.

“Dahlia,” Rose said slowly, her tone tinged with confusion. She gently pried the girl’s face away from her chest, trying to meet her eyes. “Where exactly are we?”

Dahlia sniffled, hard. She quickly whipped her face before standing up, reaching out and helping Rose do the same as she answered, “The recovery ward of the adventurer’s guild.”

Rose blinked her eyes wide. “The guild?” she repeated, scarcely able to accept it. “Why would we be in the guild?”

Before Dahlia could respond, a third voice answered from the doorway, calm but firm. “Because you collapsed five days ago.”

Rose’s gaze snapped to the speaker. A gentle-looking woman stood in the doorway, her short brown hair framing a set of green eyes. She wore a simple dress a lot of guild members had; Brown and light tan, deliberately tailored to accentuate curves while the men looked like mini butlers---each with their associated guild’s pin to their collar. This girl’s was silver with a border of a wreath around its edge. A Guild administrator. She would never forget that rank.

It was the same pin as the man who told her they would never care to hire a worthless hag like her. Why her adventuring, well adventure, died within a few days after she thought everything was looking up after she left that worthless waiter job.

Pushing the memories aside, Rose frowned, her mind catching the woman’s words. “What do you mean, I collapsed five days ago?” she asked.

Before the woman could respond, Dahlia answered. “You fell asleep when you came home that day and wouldn’t wake up!” She said, “I couldn't think about what to do but go get Sarah.”

“Sarah?” Rose repeated, her eyes moving back to the guild administrator.

“Yes, that’s me,” raising a hand she pointed to herself and turned the finger to Dahlia. “I’ve been handling your daughter for a while now.”

“Handling my daughter?” she echoed again, I have a kid? No, that's not right. Besides she pointed to…She looked down at Dahlia, who quickly spoke up.

“Mom!” She hugged Rose. “Don't be mad, I tried to tell you that day but---anyway. Mom, the thing is I’m an adventurer now.” She pushed herself off Rose, looking up at her with her blue eyes. “That’s where I got the money!”

Rose had to take everything in, barely any time to process that. Speaking of time. “I need to get to work.” she whispered. She was late, days late. “...if I have a job.”