We'll Bill the Temple

Doctor Roseleaf's examination did not take long, but it was thorough and involved several x-rays of the broken wing. The doctor swiftly confirmed that it would be possible to splint Sister Forty-Six's wing, and thus ensure it healed properly. She carefully detailed the healing process, what would be involved in the wing's rehabilitation, and how to combat the instinct to fly, to which Sera listened as attentively as she could. But now that Sera had found a doctor who'd agreed not to start chopping of limbs, the Sera's sense of urgency had faded and she was having more trouble ignoring the pain.

Thankfully, once she was satisfied that Sera understood everything and had no questions, Doctor Roseleaf dispensed a painkiller in pill form, followed by several shots of localized anesthetics. As she lost all feeling in the broken wing, Sera became hyper-aware of the undamaged wing and she started to panic.

One of Doctor Roseleaf's assistants, a woman who'd introduced herself as Nurse Bluebelle, noted Sera's rapid breathing and racing pulse and took hold of her hands, saying firmly, "Deep breaths. You'll feel that wing again soon, and then you'll be wishing the anesthetic hadn't worn off."

She continued to talk soothingly to Sera while Doctor Roseleaf and her other assistant — Nurse Zephyr — worked on the wing. Nurse Bluebelle was right, the anesthetic wore off quickly, and before long Sera once again felt the ache of the broken bones and strained muscles. A light-weight contraption was used to brace the bones and then the wing was bound up with an enormous amount of sticky tape and bandaging. There the wing would have to stay for several weeks until the bones healed.

"Now, let's get you up to a room for a bit. I want to monitor you for a day or so before I turn you loose. We'll send a message to your temple to let them know where you are, and that you'll be here for a little longer," Doctor Roseleaf said.

Sera was soon settled into a room on the infirmary's third floor. The room boasted whitewashed walls, a high table with two tall chairs with oddly narrow backs, and a bed. After a moment Sera realized the narrow backs and the height of the furniture were to accommodate her wings. One wall held a number of cupboards and what proved to be a flat-screen television. Another was made up of windows, all of which were open to the warm day and its breezes. A third wall had a bank of assorted monitors and medical equipment, none of which were needed at the moment. Aside from the open windows and the wooden floors, the room looked exactly like any hospital room from Sera's world.

As Nurse Bluebelle was supervising while Sera took another dose of pain medication, a plump woman with orange skin and short fire-engine red hair burst into the room, crying out, "Oh, you poor darling! It's dreadful! Simply dreadful! How will we ever manage without you? Sister Eaglecrest—"

She broke off and stared, eyes fixed on the massive bundle that was Sera's broken wing. Nurse Bluebelle took the opportunity to ask, "When did you eat last?"

"I'm not sure, but we were on our way to get food when we encountered Brother Forty-Three," Sera answered.

"Right, you'll want lunch then," Nurse Bluebelle said. She turned to the orange woman and warned sternly, "Do not tire out our patient."

As the nurse left, the new arrival finally recovered from her shock enough to exclaim, "They haven't been cut off!" and then a moment later, "Why didn't they cut your wings off?"

"I didn't want them to," Sera answered.

"But . . . But . . . ." The other woman spluttered. Eventually she gathered herself up and said stiffly, "If you think the Temple will support you while you laze about in the hospital, you are mistaken. You'll be cast out anyway."

"What do you mean, I'll be cast out anyway?" Sera asked.

"Well obviously, a woman who isn't a woman has no place in the Temple. We would have paid for your care until you could be sent to the surface, as is our duty. But this . . . " the other woman shook her head in displeasure.

Sera stared at the other women for several minutes, trying to make sense of what the woman was saying. But the implication behind the woman's words appalling, and she found herself saying, "But the wing will heal."

"Yes, but it will take a very long time, and how are you going to work while you are healing? The temple can't support you for WEEKS when you aren't contributing!" was the indignant answer. "Why do you always have to be so difficult? Why couldn't you have just accepted your fate like a reasonable woman? I'm sure that someone on the ground would have taken you in. You're young and would have been useful even if you were no longer a real woman."

"Doctor Roseleaf only means to keep us here for a day or so," Sera said, trying to keep her annoyance in check. What was WRONG with these people? "I'm sure there are still ways we can earn our keep at the temple."

"Bah." the other woman said. "Not in my kitchen, you won't. And I'm sure the Mother Superior will agree."

With that, the orange woman crossed to the window and launched herself into the air, managing to fly with just as much indignance as she'd put into her speech.

"This society has its priorities seriously messed up," Sera muttered. "And I say that as a citizen of a country with serious flaws."

Nurse Bluebelle returned a short while later with a tray of food that proved to be more appetizing than Sera had expected, but still on the bland side. She had no doubt the meal was well-balanced and contained all the appropriate minerals and nutrients for good health. It was certainly an improvement over being dead and not being able to eat anything at all. But Sera wouldn't be recommending the infirmary as a good place for a meal.

"Nurse Bluebelle?" Sera asked, after the other woman had taken her vitals and noted them down on a chart on the wall. The nurse looked up inquiringly. "Um . . . there may be an issue with paying for our care."

"Don't worry about that, we'll bill the temple," Nurse Bluebelle said cheerfully.

"Apparently the temple is going to throw Sister Forty-Six out," Sera said.

"Oh, we know," said Nurse Bluebelle. There was a wicked glint in her eyes as her grin widened and she said, "They're still going to get the bill. We'll be sure to label it for the care of Sister Forty-Six and Honored Traveler . . . err . . ."

As the nurse's expression turned to a mixture of chagrin and surprise, Sera said, "Sera Conroy. Or of you think it will look more impressive, Ana Seraphina Conroy. But just Sera is fine."

"According to the temple, popular opinion, and my mother, it would be sacrilegious to call you 'just Sera'," the nurse replied wryly. And then she flashed her wicked grin again. "So of course, that's what I'll do."

As Sera laughed, Nurse Bluebelle excused herself, saying she had other patients to check in on. She made sure Sera knew where to find the call button and promised that someone would be back to check in on Sera and Sister Forty-Six shortly. Sera nodded her understanding and turned her attention to figuring out how to work the television. That proved fairly simple once she found the remote inside a cupboard beneath the television.

To Sera's amusement, there proved to be very little difference between the day-time offerings here and what she would have found on her television at home. Soap operas, shopping channels, home-improvement shows, documentaries, and talk-shows abounded. Finding a news channel, Sera settled in to see what she could learn about Sister Forty-Six's world while she ate her lunch.

Over the next hour, Sera learned that she was in a city called Ilona, which was part of the country of Varreth, and that the weather was expected to remain pleasant for the next week, though there was the chance of early-morning showers next Tuesday. She also learned that it was currently Friday. There was concern over posturing from the neighboring kingdom of Osbreck and the possibility of war, but the Prime Minister was downplaying the danger and in fact accused a reporter of trying to stir up a panic to boost ratings. Sera also learned there were ongoing discussions of limiting couples to no more than ten children unless they could demonstrate the ability to provide for additional offspring, heard complaints about rerouting of a major thoroughfare in the Mid-Levels, wherever those were, and listened to concerned citizens expressing fear that the education reforms proposed by the City Council would damage the moral fiber of the city's youth.

Also, Papa Thistle's Family Restaurant was offering a two-for-one deal on Wednesday nights.

Having had all she could take of day-time new programming, Sera found one of the soap operas, figuring the melodrama would give her an idea about the cultural mores of this world. Or at least this part of the world. In short order she was thoroughly engrossed in the drama between sweethearts Silverblade and Whitedawn and the efforts of scheming villains Blackheart and Icewing to ruin their lives. Icewing was attempting to seduce Silverblade when Nurse Zephyr ushered in a white-haired man in a long silver robe.

"Honored Traveler, Sister Forty-Six, Father Superior Starwing would like a word," Nurse Zephyr announced. Sera turned off the television and gave her attention to the newest arrival.

He was tall and slim, with wiry muscle and his wore his white hair in a long braid that fell to his knees. His skin was unusually pale, a muted shade of light-green. Deep laugh lines around his eyes and mouth hinted at superior age, as did his gnarled fingers. He bowed deeply to Sera, saying "Honored Traveler, your Visit is most welcome. I've come to help arrange more suitable accommodations for you."

Sera's eyes narrowed. "You're not talking about getting me out of the hospital, are you?"