to go back.
Meh. Today was my first day of school, and I already have a homework assignment. I would have updated yesterday, but... it was the last day of summer vacation, so you can't blame me unless you have a death wish. And I know that this is one of the three shortest chapters in the story so far, but I didn't feel like writing a very long scene before or after the flashback. I'll try to make it longer next time, I promise!
Clara turned the wheel slightly, adjusting her ship's path to easily avoid an upcoming cliff. She wasn't really paying attention to anything, just allowing her mind to wander where it would.
There wasn't a clock in the foyer, but I couldn't have been waiting for more than five minutes when the door opened and Doc came in. He was in his early twenties, and he worked for the armada, though his views weren't the same as theirs. The fact that he would work on servants and people from lower city was not well known, as doing that was looked down upon by most nobles, especially because he did it for free.
He looked at me with kind eyes and asked me to lead him to Gilder. I led him straight there and the doctor got to work.
After he finished bandaging my friend's wounds, Doc informed me that Gilder had serious muscle damage that would take months to heal, even with the help of healing spells and crystals. He turned for the door, and before I could ask why he was leaving already, he said that he didn't want to get caught, as the penalty was death.
I nodded, and as he slipped out the door, I went back to my room and locked the door behind me, doing my best to make it appear as if I had really been asleep. Good thing, too. My mother came into my room mere minutes after Doc had left telling me that it was sunrise, and time to get up.
I had to hide how tired I was all day, for I hadn't gotten a wink of sleep. My mother gave me the usual lecture that servants were unlearned people who deserved to be punished, not friends. I nodded and responded by saying "yes, mother," though in reality, I wanted to scream that it wasn't true. After she finished talking, her face, which was coated in far too much makeup, broke into a smile. She said that she was glad that she could trust me, and that she didn't have to lock me in that night.
It made my job much easier. Doc had given me several rolls of bandages and a few sacri crystals before he left. I grabbed one of each and walked downstairs at midnight, concealing the items with my robe. I used my hairpin to pick the lock on the basement door, as my mother's earlier statement about it still stood. Naturally, I was more worried about my friend than the punishment.
When I entered the practice room, Gilder was laying facedown on the makeshift bed that Doc and I had made, compromised of several blankets and pillows. Shifting a few of these aside, I unwrapped the bandages on his back, and was forced to fight the urge to throw up. Doc hadn't let me see the lash wounds last night, and now I was glad that he had done so. Still fighting the urge, I wrapped fresh bandages around his torso like the kind doctor had instructed me to, and threw the old ones into a nearby fireplace. After a minute or so, there was no sign of them.
I turned back to my friend and sat on the floor beside him, allowing a single tear to slip down my cheek as I prayed to the moons for him to recover.
Continuing to steer her ship, Clara wiped away a streak of wetness from her cheek.