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When I’m finished, I’m brought to the laundry area and forced to work through soiled clothing. Again, I say nothing and stay out of everyone’s way, keeping to myself as I work with aching muscles. It doesn’t help that I've barely slept since being taken away from the village but the thought of a good meal keeps me going.
Hours pass by the time I’m done with my duties. Slyth appears, requesting me specifically. I make no hesitation in following the first friendly face I’ve seen all day.
“Where are you taking me?” I ask.
“I’m showing you to your private quarters.”
“Private? As in I get a whole room to myself?” I recoil in surprise.
“That’s correct,” nods Slyth. “Since you’re part of the dowry, you each get assigned rooms. It beats the cells.”
“You can say that again,” I say, yawning.
“I see that you’re tired. I apologize for taking so long, Vippera had me come to you last on purpose, which I’m afraid means you’ve missed the evening meal.”
“You’re kidding? Why did nobody come to get me?”
“I’m afraid I was busy, I thought someone else would have summoned you. Could be the work of Vippera.”
“What a bitch.”
“Don’t worry, let’s just get to your room first.”
I’m led through a series of hallways, ascending a few flights of stairs before we come to a stop at a random door in a small corridor. Slyth fumbles with some keys, and opens the door, stepping out of the way as he gestures for me to enter.
The room itself is small but quaint. A neatly made bed with plain white sheets sits in the corner, where there also sits a small wooden nightstand, upon which a lit lamp rests and casts a yellow glow over the room. A medium-sized cabinet and single chair sit beside a desk, with a few loose sheets of paper and a quill with some ink.
It’s not much, but it’s certainly more than I dreamed of having here. It makes me think of home, in turn causing thoughts of my father to pop into my head. I’m tempted to ask about him but bite my tongue back, thinking it best not to drag him into this mess. It’s safer for him that way.
I spin around as Slyth reveals a small container of food hidden in the cabinet. I grab it from him, much to his amusement. Inside is bread with bahru stew. Hunger being the best sauce, I dig into it.
“Slyth,” I say in between bites. “You’ve been exceptionally kind to me since I got here.”
He smiles warmly, keeping his arms behind him.
“Call me Rory. I prefer that name.”
“I would be honored to call you that, Rory.” He chuckles. “Now then, as you eat, I need to lay out plans for you. Zalith has told me what he has planned for you. First and foremost, I’m going to teach you how to cast healing magic.”
“With the way Vippera seems to be gunning for me, I’ll need it.”
“Precisely.”
He walks past me as I take a seat in the chair. Strolling to the desk, he pulls out one of the drawers, revealing a thick book. Handing it to me, the cover reveals the book to be a tome of defensive spells.
“That’s full of knowledge you need to know. Spells in there can cure injuries and ailments, as well as stronger forms of illnesses. On top of that, I’ll be instructing you on how to make healing potions.”
I glance between him and the book, overwhelmed by the size of it.
“I know this must be a lot to take in so for tonight, I suggest you start by simply wielding magic in your hands to get used to the sensation. No spells for now.”
“And what about our training?” I ask.
“We’ll start with the basic spells tomorrow night after the day is done. I’m aware your work tires you out some, but this time of night is the only free time we can get together.”
“Okay, so just wielding it tonight… Got it.”
“I’ll leave you to it then. Goodnight, Rory,” he says with a smile, bowing to me.
