Mirror Majesty

19: The Girl in the Turban -- HOPE

I awoke to the touch of many nurturing hands. Ten women in modest gray robes and white turbans scurried about a small dimly lit room. Everything from their hands, arms, feet, and mouths stayed hidden behind bandage wrappings. They resembled ancient Egyptian mummies brought back to life so as to be nurses for the sick and injured. If not for the one patch of bare skin above their noses and around the edges of their eyes I might have considered them in legion with the walking dead.The eldest of these women shouted and shook her fists. Her wrinkles pinched and pulled with each boisterous bellow of her deep voice.

"I need more hot water over here!" she demanded. "Careful with that needle," she instructed.

One pair of women unfolded bandage strips while another pair rubbed rags of hot water across my bruised body. It was then I realized I was lying on a stone table in nothing but my undergarments. My clouded mind still reeling from the intense arena battle could not fully comprehend what was happening to me. I writhed my chest and twisted my arms attempting to break free of their grip, but my exhausted body gave little resistance. This sparked the elderly woman to address me directly.

"Ah awake I see," she said, hovering over my face and putting a damp rag on my forehead. "Now calm down, Mirrorbender, you have nothing to fear from us. The battle is over. Soon you will be as fit as a fairy." I stopped squirming. My chest heaved and ached for breath. "Gentle deep breaths now. Good. Good. We don't want you straining too much or else your stitches may come loose."

I glanced down at my leg. A bloody towel rested below a crude patchwork of thread. Seeing my sorry state caused intense pain to set in and my heart to race. I bit down on my teeth and hissed.

"What happened?" I managed to say between painful sobs. "My leg! What happened to my leg? Where am I?"

"Calm down," cooed the elderly woman again. "You are in the care of the best healers Juprus has to offer. Expect no less service even if the majority of those here wish to see you dead." She glanced down at my leg. "I assure you your wound looks worse now than it will. In time it shall heal nicely with little scarring. That thread is imbued with magic resin, perfect for closing deep cuts."

"Zeno," I whispered as I was reminded of magic thread. "Where are my friends? I must find my friends."

"Your friends are fine. They are waiting for you to recover in the rooms above. So rest and be well, child. The mind and heart are always anxious and selfless after trauma." The old woman shifted her gaze across the room to a small girl not much older than myself. "Well the bulk of the work is done. Sister Nora, will you take over here? See to it the Mirrorbender gets some relief and is properly cleaned and bandaged for this afternoon. She has an audience with the king after all."

"Aye, Sister Bissell," answered the young girl.

"Alright, sisters, let's go," said the elderly woman. "Our work here is complete. Best of luck to you, Mirrorbender."

Everyone left except for the young girl. She stood with her back to me grinding herbs in a mortar. Her swift hands snatched a jar of liquids beside her and added it to a concoction brewing over a small flame.

"So, uh, where am I?" I said attempting to divert my attention from the pain in my leg. There was a momentary silence. The girl stopped grinding. Only the bubbling of the concoction nearby popped in the air. I spoke again. "Am I still in the stadium?"

"Aye," said the girl in a thick almost Scottish accent. "In the nurse's ward no doubt. They bring aw them injured in battle 'ere."

"So I won? I killed the beast?"

"Aye," said the girl. "By a miracle of gods and spirits it seems. Everyone thought ye were deid. It took the Red Hearts an hour to shift the stone, and there ye were in a wee pocket, unharmed. Consider yerself lucky, or maybe by fate's hands someone is watching over for ye."