The Story of Aria and the Slayer

Chapter 6

It took Aria quite some time to limp from the training facility to the infirmary, even with Miraan's help.

She'd felt relieved when they finally stopped at a silver door, the metal curved slightly to reach a point at the top. It wasn't quite a welcoming entrance.

The room itself however, held an atmosphere much warmer than any other place Aria had come across in that cursed building. Its floor was made of off-white porcelain tiles and the walls, although still that same slate-grey, held windows along one side.

Instead of the white lights Aria had gotten used to, the ones that dangled from the ceiling emitted a warm yellow glow. They shined on several cabinets painted a deep shade of red that were pushed against the wall. The front of each one had been covered in glass and bordered by the red material, showcasing the medical equipment inside. A few feet away, a bed had been placed atop a large silver mat, decorated in swirls of red.

Aria limped forward as Miraan ushered her to the grey mattress, the woman clearly not caring for the blood that the soft sheets absorbed. She only watched as the healer rolled up the sleeves of her own tunic and got to work.

As the minutes, or perhaps even the hours, passed, Aria had been more than a little distracted. That unreadable expression that flashed across the Slayer's features still haunting her thoughts. That rage that flickered into a blank look in a matter of seconds. As if he'd just come out of a trance. But there was more to it than that. There was something else in his eyes. Aria was sure of it. What it was however, she hadn't a clue. 

The sound of fingers snapping finally tore her away from her daze.

Aria glanced up at the red haired woman in front of her, a familiar tray in hand. “I brought you something to eat,” Miraan whispered softly, placing the item in her hand on the bed. “I figured you'd be hungry since you haven't eaten today.”

Aria paused before nodding in thanks, sliding the tray of food towards herself. Truthfully, she hadn't had much of an appetite, especially after what she'd just gone through. Although she still forced herself to eat, shoving each mouthful down with a gulp of water. Miraan had good intentions, so Aria would've felt guilty for putting the healer's efforts to help to waste.

When she was finished, Aria placed the tray on the bedside table. She moved her gaze back to the silver-eyed healer, who stood nearby. Miraan's stare, Aria noticed, was not on her like she thought it would be. At least it hadn't fully been.

Instead, Miraan's focus was fixed on the tangled mess that was Aria's hair. Her hair that had come undone during “training.” But not only was it knotted in too many places to count, but many of the dark strands were covered in blood. Her own blood.

Aria attempted to rid the tangles from her hair with her fingers, and failed miserably. Not even a brush could've worked on such tough knots.

“Perhaps you could try cutting it,” Miraan suggested, voice breaking the silence.

Aria considered the thought before shaking her head. “I don't think that would go well. I've tried cutting my hair before, and the result was quite messy.” She could recall the moment well. Remembered how her mother scolded her afterwards, and how her father lied, saying she did a good job. 

The memory almost brought a smile to her face, but then Aria remembered what had happened only a few days before and frowned.

She heard Miraan's footsteps and peered over her shoulder to see the healer nearing the bed. “Well, would you mind if I were to cut it for you? I don't think it'd be a good idea to walk around with tangled hair all the time.”