A mummer kept a slave, beaten and terrified, in their tower. The slave thought this mummer was actually Wraithvine, for they did not know better. The mummer, outside the tower, was completely different from inside. Then the real Wraithvine heard weeping in the tower. -- Anon Guest
Would you choose to suffer for the betterment of the world? Would you sacrifice for people you've never met? Would you surrender comfort? Would you surrender warmth? Would you endure as much as you could without dying?
Wraithvine told me I was selfish for wanting comfort. For wanting the barest minimum of food. For wanting more than just barely enough water to drink. In winter, I am selfish for wanting warmth. In summer, I am selfish for wanting a breeze.
Most days, I am selfish for wanting the pain to stop.
Yesterday was a good day. Wraithvine appeared with a bounty. Hardtack and jerky for a month! And a clever device to drip water into a bowl for me. I thanked him for his gracious benevolence and barely minded it at all when the pain came.
I could not have believed things could possibly get better than that.
Until the stranger came.
Another beautiful Elf. Mottled and spotted of skin and possessing strangely plain brown hair. It was the eyes that were strange. Old and pained and so very tired. So unlike Wraithvine's, which were cold and sharp and calculating.
"I see what he's doing," he whispered. "You won't be suffering for very much longer. I will come back for you."
I begged them not to do anything rash. It was my suffering that made the world better. It was my pain that paid for the healing of so many. My bones broke so that others would knit. The tears I shed paid the smiles of others. My blood shed so that untold babies could live.
The Elf said, "That is not the way," and gifted me a charm of hair and a single carved bead. A whisper and a word, and it was no longer visible against my skin. I could feel it tickling my wrist. "This will be the beginning."
I didn't know the end of it for some time.
I heard the other Elf in the tower for an hour or two. Something indefinable changed. There was more water. The hardtack was easier to chew. The pain... ebbed.
I hadn't known it was there until it eased.
I was terrified, but the tickling on my wrist soothed me somehow. I didn't understand it.
I still don't understand it.
The Elf returned, and told me it was all over. They took my shackles off and lead me gently outside of the tower.
I had warmth and comfort and good food. And I wept.
"How many are hurting because of this?" I wailed. "How many are suffering because of me?"
"None," said the Elf. "That is the proper way."
[Photo by Lachlan Gowen on Unsplash]
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