5th Ymiden, 719
Following: this
Following: this
From the start of life
To my dying day
In the dark of night
And the burning light of day
It's a Bloody Fight
]But I can't walk away
I'm prime, for the front line
Unholy war. Unholy War.
I'll try. I'll fight until I die
It's an unholy war
I see, I know, you'll always be.
"I'm so sorry, Sharilla," Faith said, looking down at the horrific mess that was the woman's body. The way that the disease progressed and the final experience was such that Faith knew the ghost she was now speaking to had just suffered enormously. "I know this is confusing for you, Sharilla, but you've died."
"I know that," Sharilla replied and Faith smiled. Perhaps that meant that dying here was less traumatic for the souls in question. She hoped so, and it certainly made sense. It might mean that there was some solace for all of the souls who came here. "Well," Faith said softly. "That's good. It might be that you want to not be here for this, I'm going to find out everything I can from your body. Some people might find that a little offputting." Sharilla looked at her and the new ghost blinked slightly and then laughed. It was a genuine laugh, although it was slightly tinged with hysteria. "You don't speak to people much, do you?"
It stopped Faith short, just for a moment, and the young Zuuda looked at the recently deceased woman in surprise. "That was incredibly thoughtless of me, I'm so sorry." Sharilla waved a hand, dismissively. "You're distracted by trying to cure the plague. That's a good thing. I've heard of you, you help people. This will help people." Faith put down the equipment in her hand, the metal knife clattering against the tray it was on. Because Sharilla was right. She helped people and yet, here, what was she doing? Her mind whirled and then, Faith lifted her gaze to the ghost.
"I'm sorry," her voice was barely above a whisper, but it was filled with emotion. Regret, remorse, guilt ~ they swept in on to her like a wave. "I'm so sorry. I left you. You were dying and I left you." Sharilla looked rather surprised at that. "It's not important. There was someone with me, I wasn't alone." Faith wanted to take some relief from that, but it would have been wrong to do so. Because she knew. She knew what a slippery slope this was, leaving people to die and then, not thinking before she spoke to someone who had only just died. Famula had asked her to lead this war, but Faith knew that she had to do it as herself.
Anything else was destined to fail, before she began.
"It was important. I shouldn't have done it. I have a job to do, yes, but my job is to help people, you're right. You're absolutely right. And I do that, one person at a time." Faith smiled and gestured to the place where Sharilla's body was laying. "If I may, I'd like to try and find out everything I can about the plague from your body. May I do that? If you wish to stay, you're welcome to but it might not be the most comfortable for you."
Sharilla looked at Faith and chuckled. "Are you kidding me? We're going to cure the plague, and I get to watch my own autopsy. That's just... well, the best thing that's happened to me since I died."
Faith's expression caused a deeper laugh to exit Sharilla. "But I'm going to ask you to talk me through it, yes?"
All Faith could do was nod.
"I know that," Sharilla replied and Faith smiled. Perhaps that meant that dying here was less traumatic for the souls in question. She hoped so, and it certainly made sense. It might mean that there was some solace for all of the souls who came here. "Well," Faith said softly. "That's good. It might be that you want to not be here for this, I'm going to find out everything I can from your body. Some people might find that a little offputting." Sharilla looked at her and the new ghost blinked slightly and then laughed. It was a genuine laugh, although it was slightly tinged with hysteria. "You don't speak to people much, do you?"
It stopped Faith short, just for a moment, and the young Zuuda looked at the recently deceased woman in surprise. "That was incredibly thoughtless of me, I'm so sorry." Sharilla waved a hand, dismissively. "You're distracted by trying to cure the plague. That's a good thing. I've heard of you, you help people. This will help people." Faith put down the equipment in her hand, the metal knife clattering against the tray it was on. Because Sharilla was right. She helped people and yet, here, what was she doing? Her mind whirled and then, Faith lifted her gaze to the ghost.
"I'm sorry," her voice was barely above a whisper, but it was filled with emotion. Regret, remorse, guilt ~ they swept in on to her like a wave. "I'm so sorry. I left you. You were dying and I left you." Sharilla looked rather surprised at that. "It's not important. There was someone with me, I wasn't alone." Faith wanted to take some relief from that, but it would have been wrong to do so. Because she knew. She knew what a slippery slope this was, leaving people to die and then, not thinking before she spoke to someone who had only just died. Famula had asked her to lead this war, but Faith knew that she had to do it as herself.
Anything else was destined to fail, before she began.
"It was important. I shouldn't have done it. I have a job to do, yes, but my job is to help people, you're right. You're absolutely right. And I do that, one person at a time." Faith smiled and gestured to the place where Sharilla's body was laying. "If I may, I'd like to try and find out everything I can about the plague from your body. May I do that? If you wish to stay, you're welcome to but it might not be the most comfortable for you."
Sharilla looked at Faith and chuckled. "Are you kidding me? We're going to cure the plague, and I get to watch my own autopsy. That's just... well, the best thing that's happened to me since I died."
Faith's expression caused a deeper laugh to exit Sharilla. "But I'm going to ask you to talk me through it, yes?"
All Faith could do was nod.
