When Beth opened her eyes again, she was back in her room—but she wasn't alone. Unbeknownst to her, she had been under the care of a witch doctor from a distant town who had been contacted for help. Luckily for Beth, the good doctor was now attending to her, their mystical expertise offering hope amidst the uncertainty.
"W—where am I?" Beth tried to sit up, but every muscle in her body ached. She saw the woman standing at the foot of the bed. She was wearing a bright yellow dress, and her skin was dark tan.
"Well, you're awake now," the strange doctor put her hand on Beth's forehead, checking her temperature before guiding her back down. At first, Beth tried to push back against her, but it was no use. "Hey, easy now," She took off her round glasses, and Beth noticed her eyes were as yellow as sunflowers—they matched her dress. Her hair was black and in two braids that ran down her back—each swirled with white and blue hair—or ribbons, Beth couldn't tell for sure. "You're alright—though, you gave your family a real scare."
"I don't think we…ever met?" Beth racked her brain to put a name to the face, but it was futile; she barely recognized her own room, let alone this stranger taking care of her. For what it was worth, she even felt like a stranger in her own body for some reason.
"Not personally, no—but you've met my sister," the doctor responded, handing her a cup full of warm, earthy liquid.
"Oh," Beth smelled the beverage. It kind of reminded her of tea, but also dirt—she wasn't a fan of ingesting either. Feeling a little thirsty, she began sipping at the drink. Hmm, not bad. As the warm, murky liquid crept down the back of her throat, she realized how parched she was, and before she knew it, she was chugging the drink without knowing what it was. With a healthy BELCH, Beth wiped her mouth and handed the mug back, "Damn. Pardon me. So, who's your sister?"
"Rothol," the doctor responded.
"Rothol!?" Beth shot up in bed again, "As in, Rothol, the witch that I—I—"
"Killed? Yeah, that's the one. That's also the reason I'm here."
Beth's eyes darted over to the sword propped up in the corner. If sitting up in bed was this much of a chore, how was it going to separate this woman's head from her body if she tried something?
"Don't bother," the doctor, too, noticed Beth's apparent plan. "First off, I doubt you'll be able to wield it in your current state—and even if you could, that concoction you just drank is a muscle relaxer; it'll help you relax, but it's pretty shitty at prepping you for a sword fight. Besides, I'm glad that old witch is dead. Once I heard that the person who slayed her needed some medical attention, it was the least I could do to offer my services."
"Oh," Beth did her best to comprehend the words, but everything between her ears was a mess. The nightmare, dreams, reality—all twisted and contorted together, successfully making not a lick of sense in the process. Beth started to feel more nervous when she looked at the bedpost for her amulet, but it wasn't there. "My amulet..."
"Uh, you're wearing it, sweetheart," the doctor pointed to her neck. "Your friend, Harper, came in while you were passed out and put it on. Oh, where are my bedside manners? My name is Genevieve, by the way, but you call me Jeni."
Once more, like clockwork, the amulet flickered to life as Jeni, the witch doctor, brewed a hearty soup infused with herbs known to soothe troubled minds. "The last thing I remember was putting it on the bedpost before I went to sleep. And the hellish dream I had—it's good to be awake, I'll just say that. How'd you get here so fast anyway? Were you in town or something?"
"Oh, I got in a little over a week ago," Jeni answered.
"Well, good thing you were in the neighborhood, I guess," Beth let out a deep sigh. She still wasn't sure if the doctor was a friend or foe, but the fact that she could have just let her die or killed her in the night— had her leaning toward friend.
"I came as soon as I heard," Jeni started serving the soup into a wooden bowl.
"Heard what?"
"That you had fallen ill and slipped into a coma," Jeni walked the soup over to Beth and handed it to her. "You should sit up a little to eat this. It'll unblock those nasty inhibitors you got there."
"Coma?" Beth nearly fumbled the hot bowl. "Wait—inhibitors? Where's Harper?" Beth started to feel strange, "Harper! Harper, come in here!"
"Hey now, no need for the yelling. Besides, I sent Harper downtown for some ingredients. Arvid and Pax are out working on repairs, and Justice went off with the one you all call—Meat, I think?—they went looking for some fresh fruit."
"The café?"
"Harper closed it down for the day. They've been working hard to keep everything afloat, but just like you—they needed a resting day."
"Harper left me alone with you? A witch? Whose sister I killed?" Beth asked. She secretly pinched her leg under the blankets to see whether or not she was still dreaming. She wasn't—and she felt a little—skinnier.
"Sweetheart, I've been here over a week, taking care of you no less; I'm hardly a stranger."
"Well, you're a stranger to me."
"Be that as it may, I assure you I mean well. Please, eat some soup; it'll help with those inhib—"
"Inhibitors, yeah," Beth looked at the piping hot concoction in front of her. "And what are they exactly?"
"That Vitality you take, it works wonders—when it works. As a witch doctor myself, I've studied what you have here for the past few days, and I can't say I understand it any better than I did before I showed up. But that doesn't mean I don't understand how it works—just don't ask me to make the stuff."
"How does it work?" Beth tasted a little of the soup. Hmm, decent.
"Don't take this wrong way, but I highly doubt you'll understand the science of it, and even if you could—your head isn't in the right place for all that pointless-to-you knowledge. What you do need to know is when you ingest it, it surges through your veins and to your heart. Your heart then stores it up, distributing it as needed to the rest of your body, primarily your brain. It's a little deeper than that, but you get the gist. Anyway—somewhere along the line, you picked up a nasty little blood infection, a quite uncommon one, actually. It's called sanguine vein syndrome, or SVS for short."
"SVS?" Beth continued eating the soup, which was oddly good, and it made her whole body tingle.
"To be honest, SVS is an umbrella term which encompasses a few blood-borne diseases, but the treatments for them are all somewhat similar."
Beth started to accept reality. She had languished in a coma for several days, which made her once vibrant form now gaunt and frail. While she was comatose, Harper had tirelessly juggled both of their duties, ensuring the customers remained content while shouldering the burden of administrative tasks alongside Justice. The others did their parts, too, but everything was quiet. It was all work and no play—the staff barely talked to one another unless the situation warranted it. Not because they were upset but because everyone feared the worst, and while the White Moon staff was skilled in various things, articulating their feelings into words while their fearless leader seemingly stood on death's doorstep was not one of them.
"Life is only harder when you let it take control," Beth's words echoed in Harper's mind, a guiding principle that fueled her determination to persevere during the tumultuous time. With unwavering resolve, she refused to falter, determined to uphold her promise to Beth and uplift those around her—but it wasn't easy.
Beth finished the meal prepared by Jeni, which was probably the tastiest 'medicine' she had ever consumed in her life. However, if you hadn't eaten a single thing in over a week, almost anything would taste amazing. She handed the empty bowl to her temporary caretaker and yawned. "Thank you, Doc."
"My pleasure. It's the least I could do, you know, since you did the world a favor, ridding it of Rothol and all," the witch doctor placed the empty dish on a tray to go out and be washed.
"Yeah, what's that about? I mean, she was not a nice person by any means, but being happy about the death of your sister and even going as far as to nurse her murderer back to good health sounds a little bizarre, don't you think?"
Jeni sighed, "Not if that old witch deserved it and had it comin'. Let's just say she didn't get that good at torturing innocent strangers without a little practice growing up." Jeni undid the top few buttons on her dress and turned her back to Beth, lowering it to her waist.
"Holy damn-tastic—" Beth had seen some pretty gnarly scars before, but Jeni's were definitely up there. There had to be a least a dozen marks going every which way, even crossing over one another, spread across her back.
"Yep. Joys of being the kid sister of a sadistic psychopathic witch," Jeni brought her dress back up to her shoulders and rebuttoned it. Beth yawned again, and it lasted for a few seconds. "Ah! I see the soup is kicking in nicely."
"Kicking in?"
"Not only will it cure your SVS, but it also brings on nap time," she joked. "Plus the muscle relaxer tea you had earlier—I'm actually surprised you haven't fallen asleep yet. When you wake up in the morning, you should feel considerably better than you do now. I'll get out of here for a little while and let you rest."
"Thanks, Jeni," Beth got cozy in her bed.
"Don't mention it. It's the least I can do for someone who deleted my oldest nightmare."
Beth fell asleep. She didn't dream, but she rested—and she rested well.
The next morning, as Beth's eyes fluttered open, the crew of the White Moon beheld a sight that stirred them to their core: her gaze, once dimmed by despair, now blazed with an incandescent fighting spirit. It was as if the very essence of her being radiated with righteous fury, clear as the unclouded sky. Her breaths came steady and strong, the pallor of her skin infused with renewed vitality. For her crew's sake, she could not afford to falter. Their survival depended on her—even if they proved they were able to function on their own, if only for a week.