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by AsterHargreaves » September 21st, 2021, 11:11 pm
In the five months since Aster had come to the First Provence she had learned many things about herself and her fellow man. She had learned that she hadn’t been taught a single thing she’d need to know to care for herself. She learned that the generosity of man was purely transactional and lastly, she had learned just how far she was willing to go to survive.
Aster had struggled at first to make it on her own, that was before discovering that the nimble dexterity from a lifetime of embroidering made mastering lockpicking shockingly simple. With her polite ability to smile through any situation she was never suspected of such burglary. She, of course, felt guilty for every scrap of food she had to steal, for every article of clothing she took from a clothes line and for the beds that were not hers that she slept in.
Life went on, as time often forces it to, but it was not without its setbacks. For every two steps forward, she was forced back one. She had found refuge in the husk of a defunct faction outside of Prae that had been burned to foundation just as soon as she had settled in. Aster had met a man named Edward who set her on her path to studying medicine, but the cost of supplies was steep and the learning curve even steeper. She befriended a young man named Flynn who died some weeks later. It was a constant tug of war to make progress, but she was finding her own way.
Some days Aster felt isolated and alone while others she felt surrounded and smothered. There were few simple days for her, but the day she met Milton Fields was the easiest of her young life. Milton, a broad man wearing overalls, a straw hat and a smile had given Aster a purpose. He connected her with Ines who helped build her medical clinic, Mero who helped with the furnishings and before the end of two days the structure stood in its glory next to the Dogsbody Boarding House.
It felt like a dream, her own medical clinic and very quickly her own set of patients. With shelter to call her own and a business that helped to alleviate her internal demons and untwist her sins, Aster began to identify as Doctor Hargreaves and her past self that loomed over her like a spector began to fade away. Aster put to rest Missus Hargreaves and as time passed even the scars on her body started to turn silvery and blend in with her ivory skin.
Milton and Aster made fast friends, the man was a widower himself but unlike Aster he struggled with his loss. She often felt guilty when Milton spoke of his late wife, she recognized his grief and empathized with him, but she couldn’t relate. Listening to Milton and watching his expression as he relayed his story made her realize that this was how she should feel about her late husband, but she didn’t. When thinking of Mr.Hargreaves and his fate all she felt was relief. It wasn’t until that evening when Milton expressed his conflicted feelings towards her did she realize that she’d never even been in love before.
Their relationship developed at a glacial pace, filled with stolen glances, the almost brushing of fingertips and the constant meddling of their mutual friend and new neighbor Constantine trying to push the two together. It had been a true situation of “opposites attract”, both from the Midlands and having led completely different lives. Milton, a humble farmer often found not wearing a shirt or shoes and Aster, easily ten years his junior and raised to be more decoration than person. It was this relationship, this bond that found Aster where she was currently, quarantined and going stir crazy in her clinic.
Aster sat at her cluttered work desk in the clinic, her arm was freshly bandaged but weeping through the fabric already. In the dimming evening light she began to document in her journal:
18th, Warmwind, 8pm
“I have sustained an injury, a laceration to my left forearm from a torment cyst that grew in Mister Everett’s garden behind the Dogsbody. It was foolish of me to try to dispatch the creature myself, but if I am honest I was hoping to take a sample of it while it was still living. A vine, a tendrel? Lashed out and left me with the deep gash on my arm. I have chosen to self quarantine for two days per the Torment Handbook given to me by Mister Kren. The wound is deep, it required six stitches to close and despite being cleaned the flesh is inflamed around the wound and is warm to the touch. I have begun a regime of antiseptic tinctures to help my body fight the infection and am keeping a journal of my symptoms and treatment. Barney has given me a torment detector and tomorrow I will be using it to test myself for infection. I have left a letter with Milton explaining the situation as well as a notice on the clinic door warning those to stay away. Instructions have been given to Mister Kren to check in on me in two days time and if I do not respond to set fire to the clinic. I have left all of the window coverings open to allow those from the outside to watch my progress. It has only been hours and I already feel like a goldfish in a bowl.”
The evening passed with restless energy, Aster poured herself over the book titled “Crimson Circle: Avoiding The Affliction”, it didn’t teach her many things she hadn’t learned in her studies but it made for relevant reading material. The sun set and Aster’s stomach dropped as she saw the shadow of Milton coming up the road through her window. She stood and grabbed hold of her door handle, pulling to keep it closed in case he stopped by before reading the letter left for him. To her relief he passed by and she moved to the other side of the clinic to watch him enter the Dogsbody. From her clinic window she could see into the cabin, but just barely.
In clips of images Aster watched Milton move from window to window, placing items down, sorting things he’d brought in and then finally his eyes fell upon the note left on his writing desk. With bated breath Aster watched him pick up the note, unroll it and his brows knit together as he worked to understand the meaning. His expression dropped and his eyes darted over the words again before shooting up to look through the small window to the clinic. She wasn’t sure if he saw her, but she waved nonetheless with a brave smile.
19th, Warmwind, 9am
“Today I woke up with a mild fever and body aches, it is obvious my system is trying to fight this infection. I have a mild headache and chills that come and go. If I didn’t know any better I would suspect that I had the common flu or a viral infection. The color from my face has drained and I have dark circles under my eyes. The wound on my arm is producing puss today, I will be collecting the discharge for research.”
Aster sat on her bed, cross-legged in her simple pink robe and faced the window that her bed was pressed against. She could see Milton leave the Dogsbody and stride over to her window. The man's, usually sandy blonde’s hair was still inky black from the two of them dying each other’s hair days previously. He stopped at her window, wearing the purple vest she has gifted him and mimed several words to her through the glass. Aster chuckled and tapped her fingernail against the glass.
“You know I can hear you if you speak loudly!”, she smirked and shook her head at him, one of her eyes wincing as her own voice made her head hurt worse.
Milton cupped an ear in a comical fashion and then shrugged both shoulders with a grin. Looking to the north suddenly he pretended to notice someone and then turned heel and walked the opposite direction, faining walking down a flight of stairs outside of the window that didn’t exist.
Milton had been checking in on Aster through her bedroom window since the previous evening. He always had a new drawing, a physical comedy piece or a message to write on her window in breath. She smiled as she watched him, though despite his jovial attitude she could sense the concern behind his hazel eyes.
Suddenly, he popped back into view in the window and offered her a big wave and several over the top blown kisses. “I’ll be back!”, he shouted at the window.
Aster nodded to him, kissing the palm of her hand and pressing it to the glass. As he walked off she could see his posture change. She rubbed her thumb on the glass as her eyes followed him until he was out of sight.
19th, Warmwind, 6pm
“My fever has gotten higher, this is to be expected before a fever breaks. My eyes feel warm behind my eyelids and when I close them it feels like closing your eyes and looking up at the sun. I have given myself an injection of garlic and ginseng and increased the strength of my antiseptic tincture. The skin around my sutures has swollen and I have had to replace two of them due to tearing around the healthy flesh. I have gotten the torment detector given to me by Barney working and it detects low levels of torment in my blood. I am not surprised by the findings given my direct contact with the torment cyst. My hope is that the lower levels indicate that this will not continue to get worse.”
Aster closed her book with a snap and turned in her stool. Her head swayed as she looked to the door. The bottom of the door was sealed to the best of her ability with one of her skirts stuffed under the lip. She had always felt this clinic was the perfect size for one person and her patients, but after a day and a half of being inside of it it felt incredibly small. She had tried to occupy herself by testing different medications on herself and retesting her blood with no better results. The levels of torment didn’t change. Through the window she could see Milton coming by for his evening check in. She smoothed her golden hair, a side effect of the dye Milton had put in it and forced herself to put on a healthy smile.
20th, Warmwind, 1pm
“After an evening of uneasy sleep my fever has broken. Through the evening my skin felt like it was on fire and even the slightest amount of stimulus felt like needles against it. Thankfully this has passed. I finally fell asleep around daybreak and woken up not long ago. The skin around my wound has decreased in swelling and the infection seems to be retreating. I have treated myself again with garlic and ginseng for good measure. I have not seen Milton yet today, I must have slept through his earlier check in. The walls around me feel closer today and earlier I could have sworn they were breathing. If I had any foresight I would have stocked the clinic with food. My appetite has returned today, but all I have is a stale half eaten loaf of bread shaped like a spider.”
She put her pen down and her eyes unfocused into the distance, her arm was itchy and she had to remind herself not to touch it. After half a lifetime of being deprived of affection followed by half a decade of abuse, the last several weeks of tenderness had changed Aster. Before knowing Milton she could have spent eternity in isolation but now every fiber of her being screamed for human touch. Aster felt as though she was soothing a small child inside of herself that was begging to be let go, raging against her to rip the fabric from under the door and wrench it open to run out.
A tap on the bedroom window broke her from her trance, a welcomed distraction from her fantasies of fleeing and a needed reminder for why she needed to stay where she was. Today Milton had a series of drawings. The first depicted Milton trying to warn those in the community about plants, but turning away from him. The next was Aster getting scratched by the torment cyst, he frowned heavily at this one to punctuate and hung his shoulders. The next showed Aster turning into a torment cyst with long hair. The last was a larger drawing, illustrated in a landscape fashion showing Milton marrying Aster and them raising little torment cyst babies together.
Aster laughed and shook her head as the slide show continued. Milton finished his mimed show and tell and lastly held up a slice of a beautiful pot pie. He ate it with his hands, his eyes rolling into the back of his head and rubbing his vest clad stomach as she ate. She couldn’t help but scowl, the pie looked fantastic and she was almost out of stale spider bread.
“When you’re out I’ll have some for you!” Milton yelled through the glass and Aster nodded, the scowl still painted across her face.
21st, Warmwind, 5pm
“It has now been three days, one day past the recommended two day quarantine. I have chosen to give myself more time given the negative reaction I had to such a small exposure to torment. I am now feeling mostly back to myself, the wound on my arm is showing positive signs of healing. I will continue with my injections and tinctures until the stitches come out. The positive outcome here is that I now have torment in my blood and I may be able to use my own blood to study torment and look for a cure, or at least a treatment. I will have to get together with Doctor Hanlon, Doctor Redd and others to discuss what the possibilities are. For now, I am looking forward to a return to my normal routine. I will continue to document any findings or changes in my health.”
Aster put her pen down and looked up and over her shoulder to the clinic door. She knew it was safe to leave now, but it still felt like a risk. Aster rose slowly and ran her fingers through her hair, trying to make herself more presentable. She had donned her last set of clean clothing for the occasion. The clinic looked like some sort of natural disaster had happened inside of it. Medical supplies were strewn around the surfaces, dirty bandages on the floor and empty bottles from tinctures spilled out from everywhere. She made a mental note to clean later.
She drew in a deep breath and reached her hand out for the door, dragging the skirt stuffed under it as it swung, creating a clean void in it’s path.
