Ambedo

After class, Adeleine headed to the infirmary to get her regular check-up.

"Do you feel any pain?" the lady in white robes asked. Her hands hover centimeters away from Adeleine's skin, blue light emanating from her palms.

Mint-coldness traveled from the wounds up to her muscles. Adeleine quirked her brows as she watched in mild curiosity. Her scratches reduced to clear skin while the larger gnash shrunk.

She didn't even realize she had them in the first place until after the duel. She was too preoccupied to notice how she pushed her body to the limit.

"No. But the large bruise on my back makes it harder for me to lie down and sleep." She jerked her thumb behind.

The healer hummed. "May I see?"

She turned around and unbuttoned the undercoat before lifting her white uniform shirt.

"Oh my, that's large." The healer had her hands to her mouth. "Did you sustain this during the duel?"

Adeleine pursed her lips. "No. I got it when I hit the tree too hard back when I was captured…I think."

"I see," she nodded. "I'll have to treat this tomorrow. I can't overdose you."

"Overdose me?"

"We're here~" Ria sang as she burst through the door, followed by Bridget timidly behind her. Adeleine instantly pulled down her shirt. "Anyone wants candy?"

The lady giggled. "Thank you, Ria. You may put them there with the other sweets for the patients."

"Aw, you're welcome, Mrs. Feiner," she chirped and skipped towards Adeleine.

"How's your day? Here, have a candy to sweeten it up." She winked as she pushed a candy in her mouth.

Adeleine would spit it out if it did not taste like grapes—her favorite. "It can't be treated in one go?" she asked the lady.

"I can't overdose you with my healing since light energy does damage to a letherian's body. It's a surprise that your core accepts light energy but, we shouldn't abuse it." She had her back turned to them as she rummaged through a kit. "Almost all of the medicines here are only effective for sun people."

For Adhelians. Of course, Adeleine knew it. Just how infinitely large is the contrast between her and the others? They spoke it as if it was polar opposites…or they are, perhaps, indeed.

Adeleine shifted her gaze outside the window, a fine line settled on her lips as she slipped in a moment of ambedo. The unpleasant tug of realizing her entrenched alienation was worse than being avoiding the villagers.

She should have known; she should have learned after they captured her as a child—beaten, bruised, and scarred. They locked her up in a cage and displayed it to the people who look at them with disgust, horror, and contempt.

Rats scurried in the corners of their cell wagons, fighting them for whatever scrapes left thrown at the imprisoned. Sometimes, they would skip a meal. Sometimes, the food would be just one bite. The water was gray, so it would have been better if Adeleine did not drink it at all.

It had only been for days or weeks. But to Adeleine, the impalpable horrors were indefinite. The only thing that rooted her was Moon's company and ironically, her escape to their dream circle.

The wet pavement smelled like piss, mixed in with the horrid stench of feces from the other cages. Adeleine held in hers for days. Being a dog on the streets would have been better than this.

People who wore, if not tattered, at least decent ragged clothes littered the streets. They would throw them looks as if they were some sort of zoo animals in an exhibition. On some occasions, she would be startled by the clangs from insufferable kids throwing rocks that banged their cell bars. Insufferable little rodents who thought they were better than them just because they were not orphans or people who possessed black hair.

She would always hear screams inside the tent where the cell wagons were all lined up outside. Shrilled screams of young people, desperate, hollow, and eternally damned, accompanied by the sharp whistle of the unforgiving whip. She would often watch behind her lashes of others in their cells stare in nothingness, their eyes were devoid of light, devoid of life. It was as if empty shells were all they were. Among them, a few have distinct black hair like her.

But those kids...they either have broken arms, a battered face, or amputated legs. They had the worse conditions out of all of them. She was fortunate enough to end unlike any of the ones she saw. You could see in their eyes the world that treated them unfairly. Despite breathing, they were no longer here.

A gentle shake by her shoulder brought her back. "Are you alright? You started hyperventilating. Is there anything painful? Just tell me so we can get it treated," Healer Feiner asked worriedly.

Oh, celestials. Adeleine took a deep inhale. Why did she remember those morbid memories? Why did it resurface? She tried for long to suppress them, to forget them, whatever it takes just to rid herself of the past that haunts her, to rid of the childish mistakes she committed.

"I'm physically fine. You have nothing to worry. You're fulfilling your job just great as a healer." It's not like her blue light, magic, or affinity could zap it away.

As much as she loathed those events, she was ironically grateful that it unveiled the thick opulent curtain hung as a facade she viewed society. It shone light upon her mother's tenacious rules. The world she built in her mind as a cooped child, shattered.

If not, she'd be stuck believing that there would be hope for the two people to get along. She would try and pleasing these people while they trample her. She cringed at the alternate version of how she could have ended up.

Healer Feiner looked at her, contemplating. But in the end, she gave her arm a light squeeze. "Just tell me if you need anything."

Adeleine absent-mindedly nodded.

"We're done? Alrighty, let's go!" Ria pumped her fist in the air as both of them walked out the door. Bridget volunteered to help Adeleine clean the arena as she felt half-responsible for the fight while Ria tagged along to have fun.

Adeleine paused as she held the doorknob with her red coat hung on her other arm, she turned back to Feiner. She quietly said, "Um, can you not tell anyone about the scars?"

Feiner looked at her for a few seconds before nodding, flashing her an assured smile. "I won't."

Adeleine returned it, albeit weak but grateful.