Occasionally the piercing sound of a sudden outburst or the echo of boisterous laughter from a few late night drinkers in the common room of the Prancing Pony would drift down the hallway and into the kitchen to reach her ears, but there was little else to break the silence of the night. While others slept peacefully, she sat on the stone floor near the fireplace and watched the flames dance around the metal pot as she waited for the water to boil; this moment of solitude might have been comforting to others, but even the light of the fire failed to bring her relief from the demons in her mind. She had hoped to find some peace or solace in returning to Bree, but much had happened in the week’s time that she had been here and many painful memories had resurfaced- she questioned if there was any escape for her.
Addie looked down to her left side and carefully ran her fingers over the fresh padding that was now in place underneath her clothes. She was finally free of those cursed initials; however, being rid of them physically did little to purge the thought of them from her mind- she could still see them when she closed her eyes, she could still see his rotten smile mocking her, and she was still reminded that she had been helpless to stop him. Perhaps these things were fresh in her memories due to Miss Ryn informing her of a recent kidnapping in town, the details of which reminded her of him and his brother. Regardless, she had hoped that this surgery would be the step that she needed toward healing; but as she thought back on it, her true concern was evident even then:
"You are certain of this?"
She nodded once, resolute. "Aye, I am most certain of it.” In fact, she had not been more certain of anything in her life, she wanted those initials gone.
“Very well.” He held a vial up to the light and swirled it around to watch the dark liquid slush around. “The potion I shall be giving you is a strong blend and it shall numb your senses, cloud your mind, and make you drowsy.”
Her eyes widened and she no longer seemed confident. "Has anyone gone mad from this potion, Mister Dimheim? I… I must warn you that I have been through quite the mental test lately and if this has any chance of altering my mind or bringing those things to the surface…" Her words trailed off, not wishing to continue that statement or think on it any further.
The physician nodded slowly, acknowledging her concern. "I understand that you may be stressed, but I assure you that no one has gone mad from this. If they had, I would not use it. Perhaps if you know of a pleasant topic we can speak of it during to help distract your mind.”
A distraction from her mind was what she wanted more than anything else, freedom from these dark thoughts that plagued her; but it wasn’t something that he could help her with, not permanently. She carefully scooped one spoonful of the valerian root and white willow bark tea blend that he had given her into the boiling water- just as he had instructed- and removed the kettle from the fire so that it could steep. Its purpose was to help ease her pain from the surgery and to hopefully help her sleep; however, he had also cautioned her that she needed to separate the brew into three doses, something she had chosen to ignore the prior day when she took all three doses in one.
The promise of rest was too tempting for her to ignore, even if it was only for a little while; and it had indeed helped her to sleep. However, the strength of that dose had put her into an altered state of consciousness before sleeping, during which she met and talked to people with no memory later of even doing so. She wasn’t sure what scared her more, not being able to remember what she had said or done or being able to remember. If the mind could so easily be controlled with drink or medicine, why couldn’t she master it herself? She hated the feeling of not being in control.
It was her mind that was the problem, a problem that she didn’t know how to solve. Why would it not let her rest? Remembrances of her flaws and her failures constantly replayed through her thoughts. In those moments, she often dwelled on the cutting words others had spoken to her or about her such as Aamu’s scathing rebuke a few nights ago:
“I wouldn’t trust her words if I were you, she brings trouble wherever she goes... Tell me, Addie, are you planning on summoning any more spirits?”
Her crimes had been put on public display, announced to the entire tavern. It was an embarrassment to her; those actions were ones she deeply regretted and had hoped to hide while she was here. She gave no answer or defense, instead she fled- it was what she was best at doing when she couldn’t face her problems. But now those problems only plagued her worse for she had returned earlier this evening to news of her company’s encounter with a spirit at the grave of Finchley’s grandmother. Even though the woman was clearly distraught, Xanderian spoke that she had done a great deed, one that would hopefully be a boon to the company in the future:
“What Finch did tonight will have a great effect; she has released an enslaved spirit and has sown doubt amongst the necromantic hordes of the Unsealed. They will be loathe to assault her in case they too can be released- she is now the Name Giver.”
Addie was glad that they were all safe, but those words had cut deep and she had walked out of the room, out of the tavern and kept walking until a few moments ago when the pain from her side became unbearable and she was forced to return to the Pony to take her medicine once more. As she lifted the cup to her lips, she couldn’t help but make the comparison between this situation and what she had done in Minas Tirith- where she had released a spirit bent on destroying the group, Finchley had soothed one and had possibly created future allies for the group. The bitter taste of the tea matched the bitterness of her own failure in her thoughts; the physician had told her to add honey, it would help the taste- perhaps honeyed thoughts was what she needed in this moment and she brought her mind back to Maurr’s words:
“Here's what I think, Miss Addie. You look back at it and what jumps out at you is the failures, the most awful bits of the awful. I've seen you help people. I've seen you bring light and healing. Maybe you think those were just 'the small things', or that any number of them won't count against the weight of the really bad stuff. But here's the thing, the bad stuff, you were up against odds that weren't ever going to be fair. Kicking the hornet's nest -- the problem wasn't that you tried to do something about it, the problem was that you weren't powerful enough; you didn't have the allies and resources to fight against villains who'd engineered the situation to be as in their own favor as possible. And this evil spirit stuff... Addie, a mortal will against an evil spirit's? All on their own? It's a rare mortal who'll be able to resist in that situation. Expecting yourself to have defeated it on your own is not fair.”
Perhaps she did focus on her failures too much- it was another thing that could be traced back to her upbringing since her mother had always been quick to point out and remind her of her flaws. But as she thought on it, her friends had been nothing but supportive and encouraging; Byrge had even trusted in her enough to tell her about his past, a confidence that she didn't take lightly and one that had helped her to see that she wasn't the only one facing the things she did. Maurr had also presented her with a curious thought:
“I think maybe... remembering what it felt like, to fall into the darkness and do those things... remembering the allure of it, and also the horror of coming out of it, and the pain of doing things that can't be easily fixed...Bíld'd call that a sort of scar on your heart, but -- it's a dear scar, that can remind you never to let it happen again.”
She was taking this medicine to help her body, perhaps it was time she followed Maurr’s advice and started focusing on the good things so that she could live her life:
“I don't know where your path will take you or what foes you must fight... and if something terrible happens and you don't come back, I will forgive you... eventually. But, you know what I'd like? If Maddoct and I get married, I'd like you to come. So try to live.”
And try to live she would… while the world spins madly on.
