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Terminia : Cults and Courtesans
92. Her People (Part 3)

92. Her People (Part 3)

“Will Kriss be joining us?” Celeste asked as they all funneled out onto the streets. “I… I haven’t seen him all day.” Her voice grew shaky as she asked, and she realized her chest felt tight as well. Her body reacting oddly for some reason.

“I saw him going out earlier.” Vallerian responded, his eyes following one of the younger courtesans as she passed by. “Not sure where though, didn’t think to ask.”

Celeste felt her heart sink a little. She had hoped he might come along, even though they had talked almost every night since she had awoken, she still missed going on walks with her oldest friend. Especially here, she realized. She couldn’t help but feel there would be something special about walking beside him here again.

“Perhaps we’ll see him along the way.” Celeste responded barely above a whisper. Her heart beating rapid as she thought of him walking next to her. Walking as Valleresa and Arabella had.

They strode along the Red Curtains for some time, at first just getting used to walking again. The movement quickly strengthening her muscles far more than the laying in bed for a fortnight had. A few of the women they passed gave her curtsies as she walked through the streets. Men often sharing a quick bow to her as well, though at this time there weren’t many men about the Red Curtains. Strolling under the hung-out sheets and packed dirt road, Celeste noticed the small groups of women, huddled on the edge of the streets. Pale, gaunt women with legions covering their bodies and much of their hair having fallen out. They sat with blankets covering them, hands held out for coin from any who might offer.

“What… what’s wrong with these women?” Celeste asked, turning to Gardinal with her brow furrowed. “Why does no one help them?

“They are sick, Your Radiance, of a disease brought on by their own sins.” Gardinal shook his head and whispered a short prayer for them. “Come along now, best you not get too close.”

Celeste looked back to the women though and shook her head. Gardinal should have known better. Walking over to the women she heard Gardinal voice a complaint, but she paid him no heed.

“Hello friends.” Celeste spoke, kneeling down to meet the sickly souls at eye level. “What is it that ails you? Perhaps I might be able to help.”

At Celeste’s arrival though, they cringed back. “No…” The front one whispered shaking her head. “don’t touch us… we’re sick. Stay away m’lady or you might catch too. Such a pretty girl, you don’t want this.” The woman shook her nearly bald head, blood shot eyes glancing every which direction. She had high cheekbones and a delicate chin; a true beauty before time had taken its toll on her. Celeste reached out a hand to embrace that once fair face. The women leapt back in fear.

“NO!” The woman gasped, her whole body shaking. “Stay away!”

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“Please.” Celeste asked. “I only wish to help.”

“Don’t come near us.” Another woman whispered, moving to the front of their group. “Just… just give us coin or food and leave us to die. That will be good. That’s what we deserve.” Her fellow sick friends muttering their agreement.

Celeste reached out, then didn’t quite touch the first woman. Despite her best intentions, the women seemed scared of her. Celeste looked at the trembling form and remembered those who had helped her as a child. Saw the kind souls who had fed a hungry little orphan girl. But Celeste was no longer that little orphan child, and she would not let their fear hold her back.

Pulling back the floodgates, Celeste felt the power pour forth from her and into her hand. Quickly, it began to congeal there, held above the sickly woman, the silver white light of Ethinia’s mercy forming bright in her hand. Please, she thought desperately, please help her.

The swelling of light in her hand slowly began to drip, like a fresh drop of dew gliding down the length of a leaf. The swell of light dropped into the women’s hand and, as though it were soil, seeped in. Celeste felt a sense of relief wash over her as the tension building in her hand lessened ever so slightly. Pushing harder, Celeste let the liquid light flow stronger, flow wider, and in moments a hundred drops of light fell from her hand and into the woman’s. The woman’s skin fresh as a newborn as the scabs fell away in thick flakes. Even her hair began to push out of her bald head, glistening locks chestnut curls with streaks of grey.

Celeste pulled back, a slow wave of exhaustion flowing over her.

“Prophetess…” Gardinal gasped from behind her. “How… how did you do that?” he asked in shock.

“Do what?” Vallerian asked confused, stepping over to help her up. “I thought healing the scrapes of every derelict was her favourite pastime.”

Celeste just glanced back at them, then returned her gaze to the women before her. A healthy glow covered her, as she would have been before sickness had ravaged her body.

“Sister.” Celeste whispered. “Come, let us get you someplace…” As Celeste reached to help the woman up, she pulled away again, her eyes no longer bloodshot still darting about in every direction franticly.

“No…” she whispered. “I’m sick m’lady. Filthy and sick. Stay away.” She continued her desperate pleas. “Go… Go away. Please…I don’t want you to catch it too. You’re so young…. so pretty.” The woman stumbled back into her dark ally, the other sickly women clawing her back into their huddle.

“Please, stop!” Celeste called out, moving to follow. A strong hand on her shoulder held her back.

“Don’t, Your Radiance, there’s nothing more you can do for the woman.” Gardinal whispered. “You’ve worked one miracle today, but that, well not even you I fear can heal a broken mind.”

“But… I can heal everything.” Celeste responded incredulously. She had always been able to heal any wound or ailment of the flesh what could possibly be wrong that the Mother’s light could not fix?

“Your Radiance, when I was in the war, I met many a men who were like that; minds lost to the horrors of what they had lived through. No healing that I, or any other priest, had done could help them. Their minds are not sick, nor broken, they are just… different. Some people must be different, become different, to accept the horrors of what has happened to them.” He tried to explain. Celeste watched her friend explain and saw a deep sadness in his eyes. This seemed to be a problem her dear guardian had struggled with for a very long time.

“I just want to help…” Celeste bit her lip in frustration, looking on after that huddled mass.

“I know, Your Radiance, I know.” Gardinal assured her. “But perhaps there are women inside the homes with a similar sickness, but earlier in its onset, that you might be able to help.”