“You’re dying.” Liza announced, hoping that it didn’t sound too much like a renunciation and emitting one prudent look toward her High Master. The old woman to the side of her kept a probing look on her face as she offered a towel to the 15 year old. Liza cringed at the thought as the smoking liquid mixture was poured over the towel warming her hand underneath.
“Give it to her.” Said the woman with a fluid rhythm in her voice that Liza hoped to match one day. The patient, Mrs. Gloria, a woman of about 32 with a thick Hispanic accent knitted her brows together.
“Whose there?” She blurted from her bed. Liza held her breath, knowing that the woman couldn’t see or hear her but still much too new to speak openly without care. When the woman lay back down on her bed, careful to resettle her pregnant stomach, Liza began to repeat the steady breaths she had been taking once more.
Swiftly and almost timidly she placed the hot towel over the woman’s face and watched as her eyelids suppressed and her chest grew steady allowing her fingertips to fall to the ground on the side of her low-rise recliner. Minutes after, the small apartment maliciously lingered with a notorious silence. Liza eased herself into a chair into which her backside went right through and then sighed as she stood up again. She’d never get used to it, death, this was the worst part of her life, or she guessed she could call it life, that is what it once was.
Gohana put a cold hand on the girls shoulder meant to be reassuring and then patted it instead only letting some of her chilliness cool the girl as she shuddered.
“Her child…”
“Was killing her Gohana, I know. I did the right thing by Benjic standards. But why does it feel so wrong?” The woman threw her hair to one shoulder and then turned her full gaze upon Liza.
“Because it is.” Liza looked at her for a moment waiting for the sarcasm to be announced and then snorted when the Gohana said nothing.
“That’s very reassuring. And yet interesting, another piece of this puzzling curse. When am I to go home, live with my family and get away from all this misery?” Gohana was silent for a while and then her thin lips cracked into an unfamiliar angle supposedly attempting a smile.
“You know that can never happen Liza.” The girl shrugged.
“It’s nice to think about sometimes though. I hardly even remember my parents, or my life for that matter. Can I really never return to it?” The woman nodded.
“I sure hope so. You’re getting better with every death you experience, soon enough you’ll be strong enough to fight like me and all the other death-warriors, you’ll be prepared.”
“That’s what everyone tells me! I’ll be prepared, but for what, war, battle? Why is it that I was chosen for such a horrible position when my old soul still lingers full of unreleased life?” Gohana grabbed the young girls arm and then hugged her close to her sending chills up her whole body.
In seconds the connection between them was complete and they began dissolving in the sparks that Gohana created.
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