Dear Papin and Mamin,
You were right, I quit. I can’t work here, the world is right and
Arkans are just awful! Even if I liked Tanifas and Akminchaer is an excellent
teacher, I can’t bear it anymore. I realize that the Arkan Governor, during the occupation, ordered his entire force and hangers on to stop eating meat while they were there, but I thought I could get used to the smell. Cooking meat, everywhere, the smell of alcohol flames and unburnt alcohol. It's on everyone's breath. It's in their clothes. Its in the bedding and no amount of incense covers it.
I’m supposed to be checking the
catalogue on this room of horrors. It’s
a museum room of preserved, dissected human beings. It wouldn’t be so horrid if I didn’t know
that it was done by hundreds of Imperial Pharmacists who could just buy their
specimens, or have them snatched from countries that Arko was conquering!
Hideous. Horrid, Ugly.
I flipped through their own catalogue
and it was almost all right because of the number of Mahid who had ‘died of x
condition, body donated’ listings but it’s not like the classes in Haiu
Menshir, not at all. I tried to sleep
last night and had nightmares that this room was screaming.
The High Priestess and her deacons have set up a Temple altar on the ‘Female’ side of this horrid
room and the High Priest and his deacons have done the same on the 'Male' side. Right now they’re consulting with
engineers to somehow run a sun-tunnel down here, back here, into the dark and
bring some of what they consider holy light in here.
The First of the Mahid, Amitzas is
a creepy, scary old man who I cannot forget has tortured and murdered hundreds
of people, if not thousands, in his lifetime.
It doesn’t matter that he was commanded.
He did it. It’s like all that...
that... I’m sorry. I had to go
weep. I start shaking when I’m with any
of them – all the old Mahid who were alive during Kurkas’s time.
I’m coming home. The whole city smells of beef tallow and
meat-eater’s sweat. What kind of healer can I be if I can’t bring myself to get
near my poor, suffering patients, much less lay hands on them.
I’ll come home and scrub bed-pans in the
hospitals. I can still do that. This
city has ruined me. I’m struggling to keep my gorge down, just sitting outside
that room.
I realize the enormous wealth of medical
knowledge that Amitzas Mahid (after requesting permission from his grandson of
course!) had just given Haiu Menshir access to!
He’s got his menageries of fantastic animals that have given us so many
more remedies... and his daughter has the gardens. All that, once devoted to harming people, now
turned to saving lives... I feel as though my head is whipping around.
Oh, Papin, Mamin, I feel sick and
shaking. Akminchaer is writing the Head
of the Research Departments at Haiu Roru and then going to check the
Imperatrix. Ninumaen is sitting with
Arkan Medics for these so called Bodyguard Challenges so that no one hurt
themselves flinging themselves through that horribly dangerous maze, being
FIRED UPON by their fellow man, with true darts, though none are envenomed!
These people are mad. Mad in a way that makes me too ill to move.
I'm sitting in a stone corridor outside something worse than any plague morgue, shaking, weeping, trying not to just fling my pen down and run away.
I’m sending this letter off and then I’ll
find my teacher and resign my apprenticeship.
I’ll find a ship of some kind travelling, even risking the winter
storms. I want to come home.
Your loving and horrified to his guts
son,
Fionaer
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