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memshare; inn at journey's head
It's been a slow day at the Inn at Journey's Head, the sky above a living, shifting curtain of light that never gives way to darkness. That's a blessing; active days are sometimes full of heartbreak and worry, but today you've only slain a couple of lesser sin eaters and the day has been peaceful.
But then you notice a few of the caretakers clustered together by the fire, and you feel the dread rise in your heart. Their drawn faces can only mean one thing, and it never gets easier to bear. It was torture the first time you saw it, and while you've grown accustomed to it now, it still is painful to watch.
The carers have obtained a lemon from Mord Souq, and you watch as they halve it and squeeze it into a cup, mixing it into a drink you know one of the patients favors. When they add the poison to the drink, it's in full view of the others--all of you, patients, carers, and guards alike know what this place is for. This place is meant for those who cannot be saved--for those who languish, their lives over from the moment the eater touched their soul but drawn out like a single thread from a yarn. They will slowly become shells of their former selves until one day... they become a sin eater themselves.
The patient is brought to the table and handed the cup. He drinks, expressionless, so far gone that he can't even appreciate that he's been given his favorite treat as one last meal. You watch, your heart hurting and aching and the rest of you numb, because this is the reality of Amh Araeng. This is the reality of all of Norvrandt, the reality you bear witness to because so many people try to ignore it--the reality you hope will one day change when your friend is finally come to this world.
He slumps forward to the table as the poison takes effect. Two of the burlier carers lower their heads, giving him a moment's silence before they begin to lay him on a litter to prepare for the burial that will take place within hours.
But then you notice a few of the caretakers clustered together by the fire, and you feel the dread rise in your heart. Their drawn faces can only mean one thing, and it never gets easier to bear. It was torture the first time you saw it, and while you've grown accustomed to it now, it still is painful to watch.
The carers have obtained a lemon from Mord Souq, and you watch as they halve it and squeeze it into a cup, mixing it into a drink you know one of the patients favors. When they add the poison to the drink, it's in full view of the others--all of you, patients, carers, and guards alike know what this place is for. This place is meant for those who cannot be saved--for those who languish, their lives over from the moment the eater touched their soul but drawn out like a single thread from a yarn. They will slowly become shells of their former selves until one day... they become a sin eater themselves.
The patient is brought to the table and handed the cup. He drinks, expressionless, so far gone that he can't even appreciate that he's been given his favorite treat as one last meal. You watch, your heart hurting and aching and the rest of you numb, because this is the reality of Amh Araeng. This is the reality of all of Norvrandt, the reality you bear witness to because so many people try to ignore it--the reality you hope will one day change when your friend is finally come to this world.
He slumps forward to the table as the poison takes effect. Two of the burlier carers lower their heads, giving him a moment's silence before they begin to lay him on a litter to prepare for the burial that will take place within hours.