Seeds of The Seven (Rubia)

9. The Pain of Yesterday

Eliya stood in the grand library of their house, the dim light of early morning casting long shadows across the room. This was only her second time in this magnificent space, filled with towering shelves of ancient tomes and scrolls that stretched up to the high ceiling. A cursory glance at the vast collection of knowledge her family had amassed over generations.

Clad in a simple dress, her sleeves rolled up, and her luscious long black hair flowing freely, her hair parted slightly off-center. Eliya began to dust the shelves, her movements precise and deliberate. The air was thick with the scent of old parchment and leather bindings, a comforting aroma that contrasted sharply with the turmoil in her heart. The previous day’s ceremony lingered painfully in her mind, a stark reminder of her disappointment. She had not been chosen as a healer, a role she had aspired to for as long as she could remember.

As she reached for a particularly high shelf to dust, a happy memory flickered to her mind from her training days at the healing sanctum.

She could see it clearly: the bright, airy room filled with the scent of herbs and the quiet hum of focused students. It was a day like any other, but one that stood out in her memory. Eliya and her cohort were gathered around a table, each of them holding a small, slimy slug in their hands. The Great Healer, had explained the importance of slug mucus in creating a potent healing salve.

...Eloxanne, with her usual flair for dramatics, had scrunched up her nose in disgust. "I am not touching this disgusting thing!" she declared, holding the slug at arm's length. Her fussiness, had drawn the attention of the Great Healer, who looked at her with a mix of patience and amusement.

"Eloxanne," the Great Healer called out, "Healing requires more than just knowledge. It demands patience and the willingness to embrace the unpleasant for the greater good."

The other three classmates—Elira, Elos, and Elorin—couldn't help but chuckle at Eloxanne's predicament. Their laughter echoed through the sanctum, lightening the mood.

Eliya, stepped forward. "I'll help you, Eloxanne," she said with a warm smile, taking the slug from her friend's hesitant hands. With careful movements, Eliya demonstrated how to extract the mucus properly.

The Great Healer's eyes twinkled with approval. "Well done, Eliya," she praised, her voice filled with genuine admiration...

Eliya felt a swell of pride at the memory, the warmth of that praise still resonating within her. It was moments like those that had shaped her determination and compassion. She continued her work in the library, then the pain washed over her again.

Each swipe of her cloth over the dusty volumes was an attempt to cleanse her mind of the lingering sting of rejection. The ceremony had been a grand affair, filled with anticipation and hope. Eliya had stood among her peers, her heart pounding with expectation, only to have her hopes dashed as others were given a different color of crystallized water, green, to be exact. The memory of that moment felt like a cold weight pressing down on her chest.

Yet, as she moved from shelf to shelf, Eliya felt a flicker of resolve. Her love for medicine, for the art of healing, had not wavered. If anything, it had intensified. She paused in front of a shelf lined with books on herbal remedies and ancient medical practices, her fingers lingering over the worn spines. These texts were her heritage, her true connection to the world of healing.

Eliya picked up a particularly old volume, its cover faded and edges frayed. She remembered reading about this book, a comprehensive guide to medicinal herbs used by her ancestors. Opening it gently, she skimmed the yellowed pages, absorbing the detailed illustrations and handwritten notes. This was her passion, her calling, and she would not let a single setback deter her.