As A Stranger Or A Friend?: The Swallow And The Drowned Sailor

Mariel - 14 Evening Star, 1245 A.D.

The fever had torn its way through the city at an alarming speed in the last few days and was now gnawing at the monastery's doorstep with ferocity. Despite it not entering our abode properly, some of the Sisters had already caught it, as we were chiefly employed to treat and handle the bodies of the sick. Those unlucky ones simply stayed with the other diseased to avoid spreading it to we who'd yet been spared from its wrath, but that would only work for so long. Naturally, the rest of us still made our visits to tend to the infected, especially now that our own were among them, and while we were careful, more and more migrated to join the ranks of the ill each day.

I'd been hesitant about leaving just days ago, but just the night before, I'd dreamt of Axtapor. The dream's content was hardly relevant to the situation at hand, but surely it had to mean something, if only because I'd not seen him in my dreams since before we parted ways. Perhaps he'd somehow heard my internal discordance and decided to lend me a bit of his strength so I could make the choice I was too afraid to make on my own. More than likely, it was nothing at all, a convenient coincidence that my mind decided to make me a fool over. Still, meaning or not, it was time to leave, no matter how bleak the prospect of survival outside these walls was. Anything would undoubtedly be better than dying of this fever as the corpses I'd seen all left this world with looks of pain frozen on their faces.

I tip-toed down the hall towards the kitchens with a small pack over my shoulder, glancing around carefully to ensure no one was around. I slipped inside and arrived at the pantry, taking stock of the foodstuffs and trying to decide what might have the longest shelf life and be the least missed. Predictably, I spent much time grappling with the thievery I planned to commit. Still, I needed to take any advantage I could get, as establishing my bearings enough to forage successfully would take some time. Besides, I knew it was what he would tell me to do, and somehow, that made me bold enough to even consider taking from those who did not have much to begin with.

"No one gives a shite about me." I whispered to myself as I palmed a few potatoes.

I tried to convince myself this would be enough, but the idea of eating potatoes and nothing else was unappealing... I collected a few more ingredients that would keep for a long time and left the kitchens. With quiet steps, I hurried out of the monastery under cover of darkness, though it wasn't until I was out of the city that I noticed I was crying.

"You give a shite about me...don't you? If there is still a part of you that does, please lend me your strength from wherever you are...my friend."