They collapsed at the threshold of the building burning with fever of illness. The one being made to pay penance for their arrogance was made to care for this poor, bedraggled, individual, and it was far from easy. But when the fever broke and health began to return, the arrogant one truly understood the benefits of kindness over greed.
@internutter/challenge-04772-m023-read-the-instructions -- BKF
[AN: I read the original and no fever was mentioned. So this has to be something.... interpretive...]
It took four days for Tentarou to remember to make his bed after he rose from it. The Fae who ran this place put his first tasks on the inside of the door to his tiny room. For four weeks, the list said, Turn around. Make your bed. Take out the chamber pot. Clean the chamber pot.
Most of his days were washing dishes, washing and hanging up bedclothes, cleaning privies and chamber pots, and sweeping out the hearth. At least they let him have a bath at the end of the day.
It took him two weeks to remember to clean up his mess in the bathing chamber, too. This morning, after the usual run of chamber pots, his list had one item. Care for the being in bedchamber three.
In bedchamber three, sweating and next to naked, wrapped in feverish dreams, was a Hellkin. Their skin was mostly violet, though they had weird patches all over their hide that were a charcoal grey. It made them look mouldy. Their flexing claws had rent some of the bedclothes. Their sweat had soaked into the mattress. They stank of sulphur and brimstone.
Tentarou wanted to run away and never come back. Take up alternate life as some Everdark Elf's pet. Precious or not. But he also knew that the Fae here would find him, and make his life even more miserable. So he said, "I'm not a healer. I don't know where to begin."
The instructions appeared next to the violet Hellkin's bed. Hold her hand, it said.
Tentarou pulled up a stool to sit by her side and, very gingerly, wriggled his hand into one of hers. Her feverish thrashing calmed down. Her breathing slowed, and the ferocious grimace on her face eased. The next thing to appear was a bowl of water and some towelling. With the instruction, Gently bathe what you can reach.
It was tricky, but he could do it. Somewhen between blinks, the bedclothes either changed or magically repaired and cleaned themselves.
Tentarou knew that the Fae running the place could have done all of the things this Hellkin needed. But this was also some kind of lesson he needed to learn. The Fae were very insistent on making certain that people learned their lessons.
The Hellkin had piercingly turqoise eyes. As typical for the people - without pupil nor sclera. Nevertheless, they managed to convey that she was still somewhere in the foggy land of dreams. Or more accurately, nightmares.
"You're safe," said Tentarou. "You're going to be all right." They were stock phrases, and he made sure to say them as if he meant them.
"Who?" she managed, just able to move her head.
"I'm Tentarou. And you are?"
"Ardua," she slipped briefly into a light slumber. "What is this place?"
"A Faerie inn," answered Tentarou. "You will be helped, and they insist on kindness repaid for kindness. Whatever you can spare, except coin."
There was a bowl of soup, and the instruction to help her eat. Tentarou had to let go to help her sit up.
"Hooray," Ardua croaked. "More debt."
"Don't worry about it until you're better. They see to needs here."
Ardua relaxed, and let herself enjoy the soup.
[Photo by Reza Yaghoobian on Unsplash]
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