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This stinks. Attn. Mark
Mon Sep 25, 2006 18:02 (XFF:

Afailla couldn’t explain it. She’d been at the Tower for nearly a year now, but the first-day jitters had, if anything, gotten worse. She felt a wave of nausea every time she crossed paths with an Asha’Man, and even the Dedicated set her stomach to roiling. Finally, after she was left reeling and dizzy after a small group of black-clad men and women strode past, all with at least one of the pins glittering at their throat, she could stand it no longer.

“Tell me again why you think you’re sick when there’s obviously nothing wrong with you?” The Dedicated on duty in the Infirmary seemed highly skeptical. He had checked her three times already, each time declaring that she was healthy as a horse. She didn’t feel as bad as she had on occasion, lying on that bed, but the tense knot in her stomach wouldn’t go away. She let out a frustrated sigh and shoved damp red hair back from her face as she propped herself up on her elbows.

“I’m always nauseous. I feel nervous and jittery all the time, especially around several people. I’ve never been uncomfortable around people before I came here. It’s like I have first-day jitters, but it’s been eleven months and they’re still just as strong. If anything, it’s gotten worse. Are you sure you’re not missing something?”

This seemed to insult the Dedicated. He crossed his arms, and Afailla shuddered as she felt him Delving into her physical well-being again. He shook his head and frowned more intensely than before. “I’m telling you Soldier, there’s nothing wrong with you. But, since you seem so convinced, I’m going to give you a tea to settle your stomach. If that doesn’t help, I suggest you go see one of the Asha’Man.”

The woman winced at the news, but she stood without speaking and accepted the bundle. When the Dedicated seemed ready to chase her out – he muttered something under his breath; she caught the words “bloody” and “waste of time” – she mumbled a vague thank-you and scurried out the door.

The first thing Afailla did upon returning to her bed was to brew herself a cup of the tea. After so long at the Black Tower, she had mastered the ability to heat water, though she still had trouble summoning it as she’d seen some Soldiers do. For this reason she kept a bucket of clean, fresh water in her room, as well as a cup. She made the tea nice and strong, and was happy to feel the knot in her stomach loosening somewhat.

When the tea was gone, she actually felt relaxed for what seemed the first time since her arrival at the Black Tower. Happy with this, she decided to venture outside and enjoy the pleasant weather. Unfortunately, after a few minutes of walking, the knot began to sneak back into her gut. A few more minutes passed before it was back in full force.

Some days later, the tea was completely gone, and Afailla was beginning to despair about her condition. The Healers said there was nothing wrong with her, but how could she be healthy when she felt so horrible? Finally, as a last resort, she managed to set up a brief meeting with the M’Hael Lysander. Actually, he had been the first Asha’Man she’d seen after deciding to seek help, and had agreed to give her a few minutes of his time.

When at last the time for their “conference” came, Afailla found herself almost unable to speak. Being in his presence was fairly sickening, and she felt as though she were about to drown in some noxious substance. Several minutes passed without the condition abating, but Afailla managed to gather her wits about her enough to speak.

“I’m sick.” At his expression, she hurried on. “Well, maybe I’m not. The Healers all say there’s nothing wrong with me, but I’ve had an upset stomach since I came here. Every time I get around someone else, I get dizzy and feel like I’m going to throw up, but I’ve never been uncomfortable around people before. It hasn’t gone away. The Healers told me to find an Asha’Man if things didn’t improve, so here I am.” She managed to stop short of wailing “what’s wrong with me,” but only just. Instead, she kept it to a simple, sane-sounding “Do you think you can help?”

OOC: Hehe. Yay!

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