Daily Writing Challenge 2021 Day 24
Revelry/Denial ( @daily-writing-challenge, @syrahnbloodfeather )
It was a long ride from the gates of the Amber Glade to Silvermoon City.
Syrahn would have preferred to use the portal within the Red Raven to teleport directly into the capital, but her sister Viridias insisted otherwise. “Flaunting your wealth is an important part of your job ruling the Glade.” She could still hear her excited voice hours later. “Even your most mundane errands need to be a spectacle for the commoners. It brings pride to our house and potential investors to our secluded city! So go out and travel in style!” Because of her Syrahn sat in the fanciest carriage she could buy, escorted by a host of guards in the flashiest armor, while she wore a dress worth a small fortune.
She kept her window closed once she reached the gates of Silvermoon City, but the thin veil was not enough to stop her from seeing the gathering crowd ogling at her carriage. She wasn’t a celebrity, or a legendary war heroine returning home; just a privileged woman with the spending power of a prestigious trade prince. Bathing in gold certainly looked desirable from the outside looking in, but this lifestyle wasn’t her; it wasn’t Syrahn.
An accident in the Walk of Elders forced her carriage to take the long way around in order to reach the Bazaar, but the ride through the Royal Exchange brought forth a wave of memories; her encounter with a demon hunter interested in her bounty, the numerous conversations with old friends and bitter enemies alike, meeting all those colorful people she regretfully forgot the names of -- it all felt like a distant dream. She couldn’t help but gaze longingly at the shimmering fountain where she spent hours upon hours sitting in the nearby grass, completely consumed by a fantastic book. Syrahn took those years for granted, convinced she would be a relatively unknown girl few would care about until the end of her days; how she missed those simpler times. They turned the corner beyond Farstriders’ Square and briefly strode by the majestic Sunfury Spire before wisely rushing through the aptly named Murder Row.
Her heart stopped fluttering once she entered the Bazaar. It was fairly empty as always, save for the crowd of people following behind her carriage. The doctor’s office was larger than she remembered, but she didn’t have much time to think about the booming business before her carriage slowed to a halt. The Countess reached out to open the door, but it appeared to be locked from the outside. Before she had a chance to react, her gaze settled on two of her guards rolling out a long carpet between the entrance to the office and her carriage. “Really, Zandis?! Unbelievable!”
Captain Zandis opened the door from the outside and reached in with an extended hand. “My Lady,” she couldn’t see his face underneath his enclosed helmet, but she could hear the smile in his voice all the same. “Your appointment awaits.” The crowd had gathered along both ends of the embroidered carpet, but her regiment of guards kept them beyond reach.
“I can do this.” Syrahn briefly touched her burning cheeks and inhaled sharply before taking his gauntlet.
Her face flushed red the moment the crowd gasped at her attire. Her dress was woven from the giant firemoth silkworms of the Firelands, causing her to seemingly crackle from a thousand cinders dancing off her bodice. A heavy gold chain hung loosely from her neck, supporting a heart-sized ruby encased in chiseled amber. Her gloves were encrusted with dazzling void diamonds from the deepest reaches of Blackrock Mountain, and long elegant heels were tipped with tigerseye gemstones shaped to look like hawkstrider talons. Her elekk ivory crown was fitted with white gold, giving her a glowing halo in the bright sunlight. Lastly a satin gold scarf was entwined between her arms and draped over her bare shoulders. Syrahn felt like a chandelier in this outfit, and she dared not look down lest she be blinded by the reflected light; to add to her embarrassment she was forced to walk slowly in her unconventional heels, or she risked tripping and bouncing her face against the cobblestone street for all to witness. “We will wait outside, Countess.” Zandis started, before turning his back to the building. “No one will disturb your meeting.”
Sitting alone in the doctor’s office was one of the most uncomfortable moments of her life -- in recent memory, at least. She kept her hands busy by turning her crown in her lap for what felt like the better part of the afternoon, but she was far too distracted by her own concerns to complain; they uncovered the worst news she could ever hear the last time she visited this place, but if she was to accept her condition and move on with her life, she needed to be absolutely sure.
Syrahn stiffened once Doctor Falo stepped inside. “Thank you for waiting patiently for so long, Lady Bloodfeather. I could’ve given the results of your blood sample much earlier, but you did insist on checking everything.”
“Yes, that was…” Syrahn couldn’t find the right words to accurately describe that uncomfortable ordeal. “D-did you discover anything…?”
“We did.” He sighed, pausing only to sit in a nearby chair. “I’ve got good news and bad news. Are you ready to hear what I have to say?”
A cold chill ran up Syrahn’s spine, and she took a deep breath to brace herself before speaking. “… yes. I’m ready. Bad news first… please.”
“You have a defect in your heart that’s aggravated by stress. I can only hazard a guess at how much trouble running your Amber Glade can be, but if you don’t find an outlet for your anxiety, your first heart attack may be your last.” Doctor Falo watched her reaction closely. “Also your eyes. Your retinas are wearing out faster than they are supposed to. At this rate you’ll become completely blind within the next century… sixty years at the earliest.”
“Can’t I simply heal it with the Light?” Syrahn asked, now self conscious about her heart pounding against her chest.
Doctor Falo gave her a weak and unconvincing smile. “I’m afraid not. Magic can heal wounds, for a time, but both of your ailments are more or less genetic. For example: if a warrior is crippled from a blow to his spine, magic can put him back on his feet. However if a child is born crippled, there’s nothing that can be done.”
The thought of suffering from a lethal heart attack induced by anxiety and stress made her anxious. Most of her life she worked to attune herself to the Holy Light, and yet she was still powerless to save herself from these plights. “This is… terrible. I can’t believe there’s nothing I- wait, that’s it?”
Falo looked puzzled. “Ma'am these are serious problems. You need to watch your stress levels.”
“But I was diagnosed with her-ahhh… well you know…”
“Your blood is clean. I’d recommend eating more vegetables and less red meat, but aside from your heart and eyes you’re in immaculate health.”
Syrahn wasn’t convinced. “Are you absolutely certain? Doctor Tsurathiel told me otherwise… are you saying she was wrong?”
“She is never wrong.” Doctor Falo assured, smiling briefly. “However the goblin interns working in the lab that processed your sample certainly could be; they often mix up labels in an effort to cut corners... that’s what we get for hiring foreigners, sadly. But don’t worry! I went back there and did your tests myself.” He paused to glance down at his clipboard. “Which... leads me to the good news.”
“That wasn’t the good news…?” Syrahn stiffened up again. “Well what is it?”
“When we took your urine sample we ran all the tests we could, upon your request, of course. It came back negative on everything… except for one.”
“Huh?” The smug grin spread across his face only made his elusiveness all the more confusing. Instead of speaking plainly, Doctor Falo slowly rose from his chair and handed her his clipboard. Syrahn scrunched her nose at the fine print, wondering if her vision was already beginning to fade; her eyes stopped at his elegant handwriting underlined in red, and her whole body went numb.
“Congratulations, Lady Bloodfeather.”
