(originally posted on 3/1/2002)
Scrambling to keep her unit close, Anne watched as the battle ebbed and flowed across the field. Picking out the nightmare fiend who had just sent a blast of energy over her head, Anne charged after it with Lt. Kenyon on her heels. A skeletal soldier clattered into their path, but the Roses barely batted an eye and smashed the creature to the ground. Another enemy warrior fell beneath their assault as they continued their chase. But they both skidded to a halt when shadowy forms materialized from the mist. One mage was suddenly many. Eerie chants and shrieks of power filled the air as the spells were let fly. Time slowed to a crawl when Anne turned to the lieutenant and saw him reaching toward her. Then her right side was engulfed in fiery pain and all went dark.
A thick liquid in her throat choked her back to consciousness. Sputtering, she managed to swallow the fluid and opened her eyes. Disoriented, she looked around in panic. But Tay and Anmoch were close by, and she relaxed slightly when she recognized the infirmary. Tay hovered over her with an empty vial in his hand. And her dizzied mind curiously registered that Anmoch was sitting on the floor at her bedside – his own normally clear and cool gaze a bit clouded. Worry briefly entered her thoughts, but then pain blotted out everything else. Pulsing agony screamed from the side of her face and down her shoulder, and her right hand was a useless lump of excrutiation. Panic resurged as the extent of the damage registered. She had been burned, and very badly.
Between the pain and Tay’s minstrations, as tender as they were, the next few hours were spent drifting in and out of consciousness. Anne vaguely remembered people coming and going, and even responding to their questions. But lucid thought was hard to maintain with the pain. Blessedly, Tay’s magics and Anmoch’s salves eventually took effect. The pain receded to a tolerable level, and Anne pushed herself upright enough to look around the room. She quickly realized she was alone. Instinctively, her left hand reached across to her right. Her stomach turned as she felt the heavy bandages – and felt the rawness of the wounds inside. Her hand then lifted to her face just as her eyes fell on the mirror placed perfectly – or perhaps badly – across from her bed. The hand dropped back to the covers as she stared at the bandages swathing her shoulder and neck. And her face… bandages covered nearly half of her right cheek. Someone had cleaned her up, but the sweet scent of burnt flesh still lingered in the air, and there was no disguising the fierce redness of the skin at the edges of the bandages. Staring at her reflection, she began to tremble. Only that morning, she had seen herself before reporting for duty. Hair neatly pinned back, uniform clean and crisp, and her face…. Smatterings of Tay’s words drifted through her thoughts, but one phrase echoed loudly in the silence, “some scarring is inevitable…”.
Forcibly turning her head, Anne screwed her eyes closed and brushed the damp from them with her good hand. Tay wanted her to rest. She needed to be stronger before he could start work on her swordarm – and her swordarm was the first priority. Opening her eyes, but keeping them well clear of the mirror, Anne eased herself back under the blankets and clenched her jaw against any other thought. Her swordarm came first. A shudder passed down her spine. The rest? Only time could really tell.