Legend of the Wildfires

CHAPTER FIVE - THE SLEEPER, THE SISTER & THE STRANGER

The newcomer stirred beneath his sheets. He had been unconscious ever since he arrived at the temple, his eyelids flickering as if a nightmare had ensnared him. A pair of young women walked bed to bed lighting roric candles, in the hope of easing those bedridden into a more peaceful sleep. Each candles aroma was unique, with power so much so, a single one could set even a demon to millennial slumber.

   'Perhaps we should try again, Melda?' pointed out one of the women. She waved over her colleague, nodding in the boy's direction.

Leaning over him, the second woman gauged his temperature with the back of her hand, before wiping his forehead with a fresh towel.

   'It's a waste of time, Rana.' she said, matter of factly. 'Let us wait for the one who brought him here.'

The two of them raised an eyebrow simultaneously, relishing the thought. He was somewhat difficult to forget. They pushed the thought from their minds, finishing the tasks at hand.

   'He said he might be gone a day or two, anyway. We can wake this one once he returns. Quickly now, pass me that wash basin over there. The others will be here soon and you know how much Selvia hates washing the sleepers.'

   Mirrored agreement preceded preparations for the daily face and body scrub, for those incapable of performing such a task themselves. This particular ward was known as the quiet place, for everyone within it held on to their sleep-state like life itself was the dream. 
The boy was not the only one in the ward but he was by far the youngest. Many others filled the beds around him, most of which were elderly and senile. Such traits had manifested long before they had come to the temple. Some came in comas, while others came in pain, begging to be put to sleep to stave off their daily agonies. The temple was a refuge for the poor, the lame and the unwanted. 

A decrepit figure, on his back in the corner of the room, had not moved for several hours. He was alive, but death loomed over him, clinging to his unwanted life by a thread. 
Undeterred, the ladies cleaned his arms and hands, his feet and finally his face. They did not clean the rest of him, deciding that Selvia had no excuse for not lifting a finger for the temple. She could finish him and all the others for that matter.

   'Uebashim continues to keep her around, so she can what? Stand around all night and do nothing? Only the Gods know what state she was in to make such a foolish decision.'

   'Rana!' came Melda's half whispered, half hissed outcry. She cast a fearful glance over her shoulder, making sure no-one was listening. 'Selvia might be a bitch, but she is the Mistress of this charter. And for-' she paused, unable to bring herself to speak the other name '-you know who, don't let anyone but me catch you uttering such words.'

   'Are you joking? You don't take all these hushed rumours seriously, do you? What I've heard about her since I joined the Sisters, I've dismissed as quickly as it spread. It's blatant fantasy I tell you, fearmongering I should say.'

Melda opened her mouth to argue, but closed it again. She composed herself for a moment before speaking plainly, ending the debate.

   'Clearly more so than you. And for your information, it is not fearmongering if it is the truth.'

Rana teased her as they concluded their evening, piling extra towels, bed sheets and roric candles on a glass table at the foot of the ward. After a short time, Selvia and another woman, both many years their elder, entered through the open archway. Rana and Melda stopped what they were doing immediately.

   'Blessings to you on this fine evening, Mistress.' they said in unison, their voices dulled.

Cold, displeased eyes acknowledged the girls as Mistress Selvia came to a halt before them. She was like an old crow, forever darting around the temple passing judgement. Her voice cut right through to the bone.