287. Both meet in the hospital as patients
She steals a quick, impatient glance in the direction of the other bed in the tiny, immaculate hospital room. There is no movement, and all she can hear is peaceful breathing, so she assumes that the other patient is sleeping. She would reach out for her aura, try to feel more, to be able to better tell if the other woman is actually asleep, but she doesn’t dare. She doesn’t know how sick she is, and she’s been near the minds of the dying one time too many. She doesn’t want to repeat the experience, not if it can be avoided. She looks down at the hospital gown, and frowns inwardly – it’s made of something that feels nothing like the fabrics they used for clothing back in Thedas.
She’d be willing to swear that chainmail is more comfortable than that – but it’s perhaps because she’s used to the feeling of chainmail. She’s a fighter, after all. She’d call herself a warrior, but mages are denied of that right.
She steps out of bed, ripping the needle of the IV out of her arm. It stings, and blood starts flowing almost immediately, but she can’t be bothered to make it stop now. All she wants is to get out right away, before they can examine her further, before they figure out that she’s nothing like their normal patients. Magic can only hide so much – at least when it’s exhausted, as it is now. She’s cast one too many spells that day – and when she collapsed while trying to get back to her apartment, an overly concerned neighbor believed she needed help. Humans.
“What are you doing?” The voice is almost ethereal, and it makes Seren effectively jump back up onto her bed, like a scared cat would have, eyes flickering across the room to the other patient, now awake and standing up, watching her with concerned eyes.
“What does it look like I’m doing? Leaving. I’m not sick, there’s no need for me to be here.”
