The Abbey

[rosallora]

[Toustain]

She doesn't knock.

She enters, feeling... tired. Not tired in the way where she needed to sleep. A different, deeper feeling of fatigue. Maybe it was the blood drying on her back, maybe that was part of it. The woman was ripped open, red trailing down her back and hips and even in streaks down the backs of her legs, herself wrapped in plain linen. She'd only paused a moment to collect it before coming here from the penance hall.

"Sister," she says, soft. Dreamlike. "I would like to request mending at your hand, please."

[Outisakanobody]

Grace turned as her door opened. Nobody opened her door without knocking first. She suspected the worst, and seeing Toast only put her slightly at ease.

"Sister? What is it you need?" she asked, thinking she might have misheard the woman.

[rosallora]

[Toustain]

"I've engaged with penance and renewed my vows. I would like to humbly request that you, as the abbess, dress my wounds." Her voice is level, calm. She doesn't look at Grace, not directly - her gaze is down, her head angled towards the floor in deference. She steps forward, the slab of oak falling closed behind her. Her hand presses over her chest, holding the bunched, plain fabric. "May I ask that of you, sister?"

[Outisakanobody]

This was...Unusual. Not something Grace had ever encountered before. She did know what Toast was referring to. She remembered her mentioning her acts of penance. She frowned for a moment, then changed to a neutral expression.

"Let me take a look at you." she says, walking over to her...friend.

[rosallora]

[Toustain]

She nods. She lowers the fabric and turns, showing Grace the damage.

The tool she had used was made to puncture shallowly into the skin, then to rip as it was drapped upwards for the next strike. The result were parallel lines of red, placed over her back patchily, some overlapping, ripping and rending flesh where they did, twisting it. Most of them were still oozing blood, the smell immediately apparent. It seemed that a beast had taken its claws to her, carving over pre-existing scars and even scabs that were not nearly old enough. Toustain is quiet, her eyes closed.

She was in so much pain. It was mental, it was physical. At least now the toil of the skin matched what was inside. Now she had bloodlet those feelings out of her, hopefully. Hopefully now she could purge the feeling from her, the terrible sadness that she had felt. Because of connection. Because of love.

"This should not be healed with the magic of the Light," she says. "This should scar. It is a necessary part of my sect's penance."

[Outisakanobody]

Grace winced at the sight. Not the worst damage she had seen to the body of someone she cared for, but knowing the cause.

"Oh, my dear." she muttered, tracing the fresh wounds with her eyes. "No magic. I would prefer..." she adds, weakly placing her hands on Toast's shoulders.

[rosallora]

[Toustain]

She tries not to tense too badly, but the contact did remind her of everything... everything. "Some salve will do the job. Some bandages. I will redress them myself at a later time, but I know that taking care of... this..." she feels her head bob. Tired. So tired. "I did not sleep well, sister. I have suffered today. I have realized that I have committed many sins against the Goddess, that I have not been all that I should be. I have told these shortcomings directly to Her, and I have shown her the veracity of my reconciliation. I will do better in the future. I will serve the Church as a vestal ought to. I promise to you that I will be the exemplar for my ilk."

She keeps looking at the ground, the fabric draped between her arms. She puts up no resistance to the abbess. "If you refuse this treatment, which is your right as the abbess, I will accept this."

[Outisakanobody]

"I would not, could not refuse you. Come with me." Grace said, clothing Toast again. Once she was decent, she would lead her by the hand back to her room and lay her down on her bed.

[rosallora]

[Toustain]

She sinks into the softness of Grace's bed. She rests with her arms at her sides, palms up. Her right cheek rests against the blanket, and even just at this small bit of comfort, she can feel it all... leaking out of her. The energy. The stress. The sorrow. Just leeching from her, pooling to somewhere else. What was she. Hollow.

Should she not be? Vestals were vessels of flame. To be hollow was to be ready to be filled with the holy flame. This is what she should have been all along.

The blood along the backs of her legs is smeared slightly by the muslin. The fabric drapes over her lower body, leaving her back ready for cleaning.

She wishes she could say something to Grace. She feels the need to apologize, to ask questions of her well-being, to assure her that this was fine, normal, faithful. But her tongue was leaden in her mouth, and it would only tie her closer, wouldn't it. It would make the sister care that much more. It would make Toustain care about her more. Love her more.

She closes her eyes, tears wetting Grace's bed.

[Outisakanobody]

"I must leave for a moment. Rest, and I will be back soon." Grace assured, squeezing Toast's hand firmly before rushing out to collect what she'd need. Salve, like Toast had said, water, and bandages. She wished there was something more she could do for her, but she'd meet the basic needs first.

She flew about in a flurry, making heads turn every where she went. She paid them no mind, returning to her room with the supplies, ready to do...something.

[rosallora]

[Toustain]

She didn't want to think anymore.

She was done with the concern of it. With the way that her mind took so many convoluted pathways, how it navigated around to make excuses for itself. Everything was exception. Everyone was an exception. She had been living a lie, a lie she thought her way into. She thought it only right to be good to the others. She figured that the Goddess wanted her to be warm, to be comforting, to be the person that she was. She had made so many presumptions.

And Vesta had warned her.

Angelique was the first. The first, special, older and funnier and smarter than her and Toustain had loved her. Drunk wine with her, sang songs with her, picked flowers from the garden with her, made every exception. And Angelique left. Abandoned her for a man on a horse who was going into the oblivion, and that's where she went too. It was a warning, Toast knows now. A warning: do not get close. Do not make exceptions. Do not allow yourself to become so attached to anything that is not Flame, is not Me.

She looks at Grace from her place on the bed, prone and pale in the face. "Thank you for your care."

[Outisakanobody]

Grace really didn't know what to say to Toast. The situation was so alien to her. Part of her wished she knew the right words to say, and part of her wondered if there was anything wrong at all.

She arranged her tools and kneeled over Toast's legs, giving herself good access to her bloodied back. To start she had a cloth she dunked in a bucket of cool water. With it she washed the blood off, slowly and cautiously. She'd already gone through so much pain, Grace was sure she didn't need any more.

"Why..." she swallowed a lump in her throat and started again. "Was this...a special session for you? In...response to something that happened?"

[rosallora]

[Toustain]

"I realized a longstanding mistake," she murmurs. She casts her eyes down to the bed, and tries not to hiss or tense too badly when the cloth makes contact with ragged skin. The nerves light up again as it brings new pain. This is part of the punishment. This is part of what makes healing holy. "I have betrayed the Goddess in a deep and meaningful way and it must be amended. It has been amended. And from now on, I'll act accordingly." She shudders in a breath as Grace moves the damp rag that came away from her skin redder and redder. She was being so gentle. Toustain could feel the tenderness of the care, and closes her eyes.

Was this Love, too?

She turns her head, burying her nose into the blanket as she silently weeps, not understanding, not wanting to understand.

[Outisakanobody]

"In my...sect, we would relief ourselves by confessing our sins to others. Putting your shortcomings into words and admitting them to another can be just as painful as any lash." Grace explained, putting the rag away and dabbing Toast's back dry. Now it was time for the ointment.

"Would you...I would like to know what you think was so terrible to warrant...this."

[rosallora]

[Toustain]

She doesn't want to tell her. It does sound almost as horrible as what she's done. To relive it through her words, to confess, again.

"...If I was among my own kind, they would bury me alive," she says softly. "I'd deserve it. Please, sister... I have confessed to the Goddess already. I..." her voice fails her, dissolving into small breaths and more tears. "Please don't make me say it."