Artus opened his eyes. His body was sore but the aching in his head that had been his constant companion for the last seven day was all but gone. Somehow he had fallen asleep. Closing his eyes he tried forcing himself to recall what had happened. Slow as sap memories came back to him: His head throbbing like it was going to burst open, the pain in his arm and the blood running down it. Valir screaming in agony, and Papprika giving him something to eat, had it been a cure?
Slowly he tried to sit up, a tall metal man wearing a long white coat walked across the room towards him. “Careful now.” The automaton grabbed a pillow from an adjacent bed and placed it behind Artus for support. “How do you feel?”
“I’m ok I think,” Artus looked down at his bandaged elbow, he knew he was going to have a really bad scar. “Where is Valir? Is he ok?”
“The young Lord is in our finer accommodations. The damage he sustained has left serious scarring along both arms and some of his face, they are of course permanent, but no deep damage was done.”
Artus felt his stomach drop. The heir of the imperial throne had just been permanently disfigured, and he was going to be blamed for it. He doubted the amnesty promised him by Valir would buffer him from the wrath of the Empress. His thoughts turned to Papprika. “Has a girl about my age, with pink hair come to visit me?”
“Yes, when you were brought here you had become catatonic from the pain, normally when the body reaches a certain pain thresh it goes unconscious, but yours didn't. We tried to administer an anesthetic to you but nothing worked. Finally your pink haired girl showed up and insisted that these little biscuits,” he pointed to a plate on a nearby stand with a stack of square bite sized biscuits on it, “are the only thing that will make you sleep.” the automaton picked up one of the biscuits and examined it “very curious.”
She had found a cure, Artus felt a wave of relief despite his predicament. At Least that nightmare was over. Another thought entered his mind. “I’ve never seen an automation healer before, can you paint?”
The automaton placed the biscuit back down and shook his head “I’m afraid painting is impossible for automatons, no i’m just a doctor, a surgeon in fact. Restricted to razors, natural herbs and the wondrous regenerative properties of the human body”
“That’s kind of funny becoming a doctor, when automatons don’t need them.”
“No funnier than a human becoming a mechanic to help repair automatons.” the doctor retorted.
“I suppose you’re right.”
©2013
Well I am hooked. This is defiantly interesting,I feel that it makes you want to know more about the story and what is going to happen next.
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