What she wouldn’t give for her life to be boring. Mephisto chuckles some under her breath at his words, the sound dark and rich, as a touch of warmth enters her eyes. She liked him. Despite his awkwardness, there was something about him that brought a sense of peace to the mare. So she largely ignores him as she explores, comfortable enough in his presence to turn her back to him as she rifles through the rooms of the hospital, eager to know more about it.
Officially, I think, I am, ah, Deluminian? Is that the correct term? He answers her question and she nods in understanding without turning from her task. “There is much beauty in the Dawn Court. You’re fortunate to have such a lovely home.” While it didn’t have the appeal to her that Terrestella did, the mare had found herself in their northern neighbor’s lands many times. “Are you familiar with the great library there? I’ve spent many nights there, learning about the histories of Novus. And, about the magic.”
While there wasn’t much written about Tempus’ magic, loosed upon the world, what she had found were many theories. Most of them pointed to the mysterious island as the source of the magic, a place she had explored in search of answers, time and time again. But her searches had ended in disappointment, Tempus always staying one step ahead of prying and questioning mortals, toying with their lives with little regard for the consequences.
He mentions the stars, and she turns to study him a bit closer this time. “They say the stars are brightest in Caligo’s realm, and the mountain tops bring astronomers and causal star-gazers alike to their peaks. If you are truly curious to know about the stars here, I would suggest a trip to Denocte. There is a tribe in the Night Court known as the shed-stars, said to be descended from Caligo herself. I’m told they can read the past, present, and future in the stars. That some sing and make the stars rise and fall with their voices alone.” Even if it wasn’t true, there was a certain poetic romanticism to the thought, one which a pragmatist such as herself didn’t buy into. Still, she could see the wonder in such a thing, and if the magic was any indication, perhaps the stories were truer than they seemed.
When he raises a question about the hospital, she stands poised to answer, but they are interrupted by a helper. They pose little threat to the creature, who seems to find comfort in the scent of Terrestella upon their hides, turning back to her tasks and chittering to others who peeked out from the brambles of branches above. The helper turns to look at them, as if asking for them to follow, which the dark warg does, following into an easy pace beside the primate.
“The hospital in Terrestella is unlike others of its kind. This is the only trauma hospital which exists in Novus, the place where healers come to train and perfect the art of their craft. Its halls have seen the deadliest of wounds, and for those injured in battle, there is nowhere more trusted or more safe for their care.” At least, this is what she has heard of the place, and as they wind deeper into the tree, it’s easy to see why the place is deemed the best.
They work their way into the heart of the canopy, where the hospital seems far busier than the rooms they had previously explored. Helpers and healers alike are busy here, treating to wounds of all types. They triaged the sick, filtering the most severe cases into large operating rooms, tended to by the eldest and most experienced surgeons. Trainees tended to the minor cases, applying salve with gentle hands or twisting bandages around open wounds. For all the bustle, it is a wonder the place stays so well hidden, Mephisto mused.
And she turns to stare at her companion, curious to see what he thought of the mysterious hospital in the trees.
@Atlas
