@Lup -- my dear, your story is done (as I told you baha) and your new request is added to the list!
There were many doctors who had lost sight of their hopefulness and positivity. When it was your job to save lives, you were often surrounded by misery and death. It was impossible to save every patient, after all. Yet, somehow, Akemi had maintained her bright outlook on life. She had lost patients before, certainly, but she had never let herself fall victim to the despair that she felt so keenly at such a loss. She mourned them, learned from her mistakes, and used her enthusiasm and cheer to inspire those around her.
When she had time away from her duties, Akemi would collect the rare flowers that grew in the fertile land around the volcano. They were beautiful, with orange and red petals that seemed to glow like magma. They were delicate little things found in clusters of five or six and thrived in the heat and sunless wastes of the Blacksand Annex. The petals were paper-thin, long stamens reaching gracefully up and out. The stalks were tall and slim and made for easy pickings, but she had to watch her claws around the delicate glowing petals. When she picked them, she blew on them gently, sending ash swirling into the air.
She always collected four flowers on these expeditions, and would then head to the clan’s graveyard. Kelud was waiting for her when she arrived every time. She always wondered if it was just that he spent too much of his time there, or if he somehow knew she needed him there.
“Kelud!” she greeted cheerily, the four radiant flowers held gently in her paw. He wordlessly nodded in greeting, as was his way, and she butted his forehead with her own affectionately. “Isn’t it a lovely day?” she asked.
Kelud looked around, eyes going from the smoky sky to the lava trickling from the volcano. He looked back at Akemi skeptically.
“I love the way the light looks on days like these,” Akemi continued. The pair began to walk into the graveyard proper as she spoke. “When the sun is really and truly hidden, and everything is lit by the lava. I couldn’t ever see myself living anywhere else, you know?”
They stopped at a grave, and Akemi laid one of the flowers atop it. She smiled sadly at the headstone and closed her eyes. Silent words moved her mouth. She opened her eyes again, and she and Kelud moved on to the next grave.
“This really is the most wonderful place in Sornieth. There aren’t flowers like this anywhere else, not even in the Everbloom Gardens, I’m sure. Have you ever seen anything so lovely?”
She held out the second flower to Kelud so he could inspect it.
“It’s beautiful.”
Akemi nodded and placed the flower on another headstone. Again, her eyes fell closed and she breathed a few inaudible words. They visited two more headstones, Akemi keeping up a steady stream of chatter the whole time. After she had placed the last flower on the last headstone, she looked to Kelud. Her usual chipper smile and twinkling eyes held a look of sadness. Akemi still smiled and looked upon Kelud fondly, but there was a wavering quality to them that was unusual for her.
“Thank you for always doing this with me,” she said.
Kelud shrugged. Her eyes turned from him to sweep over the graveyard, and she took a deep, shuddering breath. When she looked back at Kelud, the sadness had cleared from her eyes, and she could feel herself beginning to return to the bright, happy dragon she was. But sometimes, it was good to sit with the loss and remember.
There were many doctors who had lost sight of their hopefulness and positivity. When it was your job to save lives, you were often surrounded by misery and death. It was impossible to save every patient, after all. Yet, somehow, Akemi had maintained her bright outlook on life. She had lost patients before, certainly, but she had never let herself fall victim to the despair that she felt so keenly at such a loss. She mourned them, learned from her mistakes, and used her enthusiasm and cheer to inspire those around her.
When she had time away from her duties, Akemi would collect the rare flowers that grew in the fertile land around the volcano. They were beautiful, with orange and red petals that seemed to glow like magma. They were delicate little things found in clusters of five or six and thrived in the heat and sunless wastes of the Blacksand Annex. The petals were paper-thin, long stamens reaching gracefully up and out. The stalks were tall and slim and made for easy pickings, but she had to watch her claws around the delicate glowing petals. When she picked them, she blew on them gently, sending ash swirling into the air.
She always collected four flowers on these expeditions, and would then head to the clan’s graveyard. Kelud was waiting for her when she arrived every time. She always wondered if it was just that he spent too much of his time there, or if he somehow knew she needed him there.
“Kelud!” she greeted cheerily, the four radiant flowers held gently in her paw. He wordlessly nodded in greeting, as was his way, and she butted his forehead with her own affectionately. “Isn’t it a lovely day?” she asked.
Kelud looked around, eyes going from the smoky sky to the lava trickling from the volcano. He looked back at Akemi skeptically.
“I love the way the light looks on days like these,” Akemi continued. The pair began to walk into the graveyard proper as she spoke. “When the sun is really and truly hidden, and everything is lit by the lava. I couldn’t ever see myself living anywhere else, you know?”
They stopped at a grave, and Akemi laid one of the flowers atop it. She smiled sadly at the headstone and closed her eyes. Silent words moved her mouth. She opened her eyes again, and she and Kelud moved on to the next grave.
“This really is the most wonderful place in Sornieth. There aren’t flowers like this anywhere else, not even in the Everbloom Gardens, I’m sure. Have you ever seen anything so lovely?”
She held out the second flower to Kelud so he could inspect it.
“It’s beautiful.”
Akemi nodded and placed the flower on another headstone. Again, her eyes fell closed and she breathed a few inaudible words. They visited two more headstones, Akemi keeping up a steady stream of chatter the whole time. After she had placed the last flower on the last headstone, she looked to Kelud. Her usual chipper smile and twinkling eyes held a look of sadness. Akemi still smiled and looked upon Kelud fondly, but there was a wavering quality to them that was unusual for her.
“Thank you for always doing this with me,” she said.
Kelud shrugged. Her eyes turned from him to sweep over the graveyard, and she took a deep, shuddering breath. When she looked back at Kelud, the sadness had cleared from her eyes, and she could feel herself beginning to return to the bright, happy dragon she was. But sometimes, it was good to sit with the loss and remember.
