RP:Do Not Follow Me into the Sun
Part of the Time Heals All Wounds Arc
Synopsis: Penelope is on her death bed and about to walk into the light. She looks death right in the eye, but a magical light appears mysteriously out of nowhere. It heals the girl. Yerrel and Ruari Erickson are left dumbfounded.
Yerrel's Hut
It had been a week since the dying girl had talked to the warrior and the spiritualist about searching for a cure. A week was too long, the Gods only knew. Every day was a worsening symptom or a new one that had begun to infest her body. Penelope’s thick, frizzy hair was falling out in clumps, she was now vomiting pools of blood; her arms were a garden of sores. The blackout spells at worsened where she would be out for hours at a time. With each step, herbalist had grown weaker. With each step, the girl was caving and accepting her fate. She would open her arms wide for death to take her where she could become happy within the sun.
The sky was changing hues from orange to pinks and purples. Yerrel had tucked the freckle-dusted girl next to an open window, as requested, so Penelope can still see the sun and sky before death came knocking at her door. The girl rests upon the overly-fluffed cot with plenty of quilted, floral blankets. The girl is perched up enough to be able to be fed the broth that Yerrel had boiled. Ruari Erickson had sat at the edge of the cot for comfort and mild humor.
“Penny, you need to hang on. We are headed to Venturil in two days. You’ve always been stronger than the rest of us, bug. Two days, give a day and a half, and we will probably have a solution,” Ruari holds the woman’s hand tightly as Yerrel feeds the woman the soup while giving Ruari a hesitant gaze, though the look is ignored and the man still remains hopeful for his dear friend. “I won’t sleep until we find a solution,” Ruari confesses. The black haired man then rises to move to the corner of the room. He grabs a few oils that the woman had taught him to craft. Myrrh for the wounds that rested on her open wounds. The man moving to find a cotton pad to dab the oil on her broken skin.
Penelope Halifax had been staring out the window at the swirled sky as the man talks about being the saving grace for her fate. The words are ignored, and silence consumes the woman. She was tired. Very tired. Tired of the fight. Her cheeks were hollow, her pale skin was now even more white than usual, and her eyes seemed in another place. The touch of warm skin against her clammy skin brings her back into reality and her small hand reaches to his arm that is trying to protect her wounds. “Ruari, I need to tell you something just in case the light takes me. I want you to imagine your mind like a garden and your thoughts are seeds. You get to choose what seeds you plant in it. You can plant seeds of positivity, love and abundance. Or you can plant seeds of negativity, fear and lack. Right now, you’re speaking of fear which you think is love, but you prove me false hope.” The woman then pushes the spoon that is in her face from Yerrel. “Both of you can spend time trying to take care of everyone else’s garden, or both of you can work on making yours beautiful and attract other beautiful people to your garden. I’m not making it another night. Make your garden beautiful where I feel like I can let you lay and sit with me in my last breaths,” she was grim, yet truthful. She needed to prepare them for what was about to happen. Make them less frightened. “I’m not afraid to die, my loves. I love you both so much. You’re my family. I just want you to know that I am going to be okay. I don’t sense danger of the afterlife. I sense more peace than the pain I am in now,” she then begins to cough and hunch her body over. The blood drops spray on the quilt and automatically Yerrel is swooping in with a handkerchief to press against her lips gingerly.
The elderly man and the young handsome man are at a loss. The feeling of the battle was lost. Yerrel sits back in his chair in defeat while he stares at the fragile girl. Ruari nods and tries to bite back the heartache to keep her comfortable, to remain strong. The man slowly inches his way beside her to lay down next to her and hold her body. The cough of the girl would make the girl woozy. The black was coming in strong and she falls into the depths of the plagued abyss.
Penelope Halifax remained motionless with slow breathing. She was going to die. Tonight.
An hour passes, and the two men still remain in silence. They would not leave her to cross over alone.
“I’m going to go make tea, do you want anything?” Yerrel asks the man, but the man shakes his head. As Yerrel begins to walk, Penelope’s motionless body jolts up. Her chest pulls up as if she is going to shake. Instead, she remains chest pulled up in a small sort of levitation. Golden wisps begin to expand from her chest and the sores on her arms. The golden wisps begin to weave throughout her skin and the sores begin to close on their own with scars remaining. The light that rises from her chest swarms up and swivels through the gape in her mouth to flood and glaze her raw throat. The light was mending whatever disease was killing her.
“Is this how death works?!” Ruari looks creeped out and Yerrel stands there with an open mouthed look. “No,” Yerrel says flatly.
The mysterious light that floods the woman’s body instantly disappears with a snap. The woman lands back down roughly on the cot.
Penelope Halifax’s moss eyes open.