Knowing What to Say, Part I
Content Warning: This chapter contains mention of suicide and self harm.
Nourd sat in the gardens with his eyes closed, listening to Master Gorkle’s voice. He could hear everything, and began to get a sense for how everything fit together. The world was unfolding around him as Master Gorkle spoke.
“Every creature, from humans to the smallest of insects, has a part to play in nature. No matter how trivial, no matter how small, we all have a purpose. Whether it be providing food for something larger, or helping the flowers to grow and blossom, we are all—”
Nourd waited for Master Gorkle to continue, but zie didn’t.
“We have to go,” zie said. “Something’s happened.”
Nourd opened his eyes and saw Master Gorkle offering hir hand to Nourd. He allowed himself to be helped to his feet, then Master Gorkle led the way out of the gardens.
“What happened?” Nourd asked. He could smell something unfamiliar from Master Gorkle. Was zie worried? It smelled a little like concern, but it was hard to tell.
“Just follow me.”
Nourd did as he was told, even as Master Gorkle led them through one of the magic doors in the castle. He hated them. They made his skin feel funny, and his stomach felt like it was trying to escape his body. He groaned as they stepped through into a place Nourd had never been.
People rushed about wearing the same clothes, all holding stacks of paper or books. The air was full of smells. Nearby, people sat on chairs, all of them smelling of fear or worry. Was no one happy in this place? Why had Master Gorkle brought them somewhere like this?
“Where are we?”
“This is the hospital,” Gorkle said, walking up to a large desk with another person in the same sort of clothes as everyone else. “I’m looking for Lord Grund.”
“His Lord High Artisan is in the third floor waiting room,” the person behind the desk said. “You may go up.”
Master Gorkle beckoned to Nourd.
“Stay with me. Do not wander off.”
“Yes, Master Gorkle.”
They climbed a flight of stairs, then another, and another. They walked through a door, then down a corridor. Once again, there were people with the same clothes all walking around.
“Why do they all wear the same clothes?”
“Their uniforms show that they work here. So people know who to ask if they have questions or a problem.”
Nourd watched one of them walk by. Maybe they knew what they were doing at the hospital.
“Do we not have questions?”
“We do, but I know who has the answers, and there’s no need to bother the staff here.”
They reached another room with chairs, but this one only had two occupants.
Lord Grund sat drumming his fingers on his chair, glowering at nothing in particular. Aonva sat next to him, hugging her legs to her chest, her face buried in her knees. She reeked of sadness, pain, and fear, like an animal that was about to die. Was she dying? Was that why they were there?
“Grund.”
“Gorkle.”
“What are we doing here?”
Lord Grund waved his hand at Master Gorkle, and zie followed him away from the two apprentices.
“Hello, Aonva.”
“Hi,” she said without looking up at him.
Before Nourd could start asking, he caught a familiar smell on the air. A grin spread over his face and excitement took hold of him. The wonderful sound of Oshal’s walking stick echoed down the corridor. Not long after, Oshal and Lady Durwey walked in. When Lady Durwey spotted Lord Grund and Master Gorkle, she walked over to them.
“Nourd.” A smile spread over Oshal’s face. “It’s good to be with you.”
“I too enjoy your company.” Nourd looked around. “Is Sirshi coming too? They always gather all of us.”
“Sirshi’s on her fifth-year assignment,” Aonva said, still not looking up. “In order to serve the court, we must know the court, so we spend our fifth years off in another town.” Her voice cracked up. “Mages are supposed to partner up with artisans so we can… so we can… so we can construct a… a staff. And… and…”
Anything else was lost to Aonva’s sobs. Oshal walked over and sat down next to her.
“It’s alright. My sister’s looking forward to hers. She’s always happiest when she’s with you.”
Aonva shook her head, muttering something Nourd couldn’t understand.
Another familiar smell reached him, and Nourd saw Oshal’s father walk into the room in a panic.
“Oshal!” He rushed over and threw his arms around Oshal. “What’s going on? Our Lord High Artisan contacted me, said to come here right away.” He looked around. “Which ward is this?”
Aonva sobbed something none of them understood.
Daylarl crouched in front of Aonva. “Aonva, what’s going on? Where’s Roshil?”
“Room 306,” Lord Grund said as he, Master Gorkle, and Lady Durwey returned to the waiting room. “This is the mental health ward.”
Another round of sobs came from Aonva, drowning out anything she might’ve tried saying.
“Why is my daughter in the mental health ward?” Daylarl stood up and faced Lord Grund. “My Lord, what’s going on?”
Lord Grund folded his arms. He glanced around, then came in closer.
“What I’m about to tell you does not leave this room. Only the council knows about this. You do not tell anyone. If I find out one of you squealed, I will personally have you exiled from the court. Is that understood?”
Nourd didn’t understand the first part of it, but he understood the phrase “You do not tell anyone” perfectly. He could smell how serious Lord Grund was. Exile meant never returning to the forest, never seeing Oshal again. Nourd nodded his understanding.
“The curse is getting worse,” Lord Grund said. “It’s not just her eyes and her hair. Apprentice Roshil has scales growing on her.”
Before Nourd could start asking questions, he heard Master Gorkle speaking softly.
“Don’t speak. Don’t ask questions yet. Just listen.”
“But she’s okay,” Oshal said. “They’re not hurting her, are they?”
“Not as far as I know,” Lord Grund said. “But recently, not that she’s said when, they appeared on her face. So far as I can tell, when she realized that…” Concern and uncertainty wafted to him, neither of which Nourd had ever smelled on Lord Grund.
“Apprentice Roshil tried to kill herself.”