The Asylum
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There And BackChapter 182: Asylum free porn video
Sailing across the cove was trivial compared to the difficulty of making past the rocks, and the water was deep and blue. The captain poked his head in to tell us that the cove was safe and protected if we liked to swim – and then asked us to remain seated while he docked. He promised to come get us when we were able to disembark.
Without a word, Aedan and Alistair each grabbed one of my hands, and I squeezed theirs gratefully. We waited a few minutes after the bump of the boat coming to rest at the dock, and then finally the captain came to escort us off the ship. He encouraged us to leave our things, promising they would be taken to our rooms, but we all exchanged glances and grabbed our own bags. Alistair and I helped each other onto the dock – his face flushed with irritation that he couldn’t just lift me out, and I kissed his furrowed brow in sympathy – and then we followed the other passengers down the dock towards the building. Several people stood waiting for us there; three of them led the other passengers away, leaving the seven of us standing on the shore with the last.
She was a young woman wearing a fabric head covering and a long, flowing beige dress decorated with the same stylized sun I remembered from the letter Fergus had showed me; she reminded me of a nun, really. She smiled serenely at us and curtsied deeply when we stopped in front of her, but when her eyes fell on me she gasped, her face blanching. She quickly recovered, though I noticed her shooting me strange looks as she spoke. I wasn’t sure whether to comment or not, so I pinched my lips together and decided to wait.
“Your Highnesses, your Grace, my Lords, welcome! It is wonderful to have you here at Lhanbyrde. I am Acolyte Rulia. I understand none of you have visited us before?” She eyed me again, flinching when I returned her gaze. When no one else responded, she nodded. “Rooms have been prepared for all of you, and supper will be served in the guest dining room as soon as you are settled. Meals are informal and private here, so please feel free to wear whatever you like. I will show you where to go, and Chancellor Cylie will meet with you first thing in the morning.”
We all agreed, and she turned to lead us inside the largest, central building, pointing out areas near the beach set up for guests, and then inside showing us the Chancellor’s office, the dining room, and a couple of lovely sitting areas before taking us up a set of wide stairs to an upper floor. We had four rooms all together on one wing, each with private bathing rooms – she assured us we would love the ‘amenities’ with a little giggle, so I resolved to check them out first. Each room was large enough for a bed and a sitting area, with several open windows with only shutters to close them if we wished. The air was warm and pleasant, and smelled of tropical flowers. It was what I imagined Hawaii might be like, if I’d ever gone there back when I lived on Earth.
When she left us – scurrying off with one last, long look in my direction – we all agreed to get cleaned up and then go downstairs together. I was concerned about Avanna and Charles sharing a room – as far as I knew, they weren’t romantically involved – but Avanna assured me that since they’d be taking shifts while we were on the island, they could both use the same bed at separate times. I knew protesting would be useless, so I just smiled wanly and let it go.
The bathrooms were as good as the guide had told us; the toilets had plumbing like Vigil’s Keep, the bathtub had a proper drain, and there were real showers, with water that could be turned on by twisting a knob on a large, metal showerhead hanging from the ceiling. The water was only lukewarm, so I intended to keep using my little runed showerhead, but I’d have been awestruck if I hadn’t had access to my own way of showering. I wondered where the water came from.
Supper was quiet; we had a small dining room all to ourselves, with a table meant for ten but only set for six. Charles had gone to bed, Avanna explained, so that he could take the night shift. The dinner was lovely but nowhere near as elaborate as those served at Hetty’s inn, and I was grateful not to have to worry so much about my clothes or table manners. After supper Fergus went up to his room, and Avanna stepped outside, leaving the four of us to chat for the evening.
“Did you see the way that Rulia stared at me?” I asked. The others nodded. “What was that all about?”
“Hadn’t met a ‘princess’ before?” Alistair ventured.
Zevran shook his head, and I was relieved I wasn’t the only one who didn’t think so. “No, that’s not it. It was like ... she recognised you, cara mia.”
None of us knew what it meant, so after a little bit of unrelated chat, we finally separated to go to bed.
I slept fitfully, trying not to squirm and keep Alistair awake, without much success; I finally fell asleep, exhausted, just before dawn, only to be woken an hour or so later by Avanna, giving me time to get ready to meet the Chancellor who’d written to Fergus. I blearily poured myself into my clothes, allowing Alistair to tease and prod me into somewhat of a smile. We had breakfast trays delivered to our room, to my amazement, though I only picked at mine anxiously.
Alistair ate my leftovers. I wasn’t shocked.
Finally the same young woman arrived to escort us to our meeting. She’d managed to hide her expressions better, so she wasn’t outright staring at me, but she was still awkward and stuttering every time she caught me looking at her, and she blushed easily. It was a relief when she ushered us into a large, attractive office space and then excused herself, closing the door as she left.
Chancellor Cylie was a middle-aged woman in a practical, though well-made, outfit of pants and an off-white, embroidered jacket. She had greying hair pulled back in a bun, only traces of what must have been an almost black colour left. She was tiny – probably the shortest human woman I’d ever met, almost dwarven height, though not nearly as curvy as the usual dwarva – and smiled broadly as Fergus and Aedan walked through the door.
She paled and froze when she saw me – even Alistair couldn’t deny the awkwardness of it – and muttered something to herself under her breath before forcing a fake smile back onto her face. She greeted us with a curtsy, and then ushered us to a cluster of couches and chairs that took up half of the generous space.
After pleasantries were exchanged, during which she kept sneaking glances at me and looking away when I caught her, she turned to Fergus.
“Your Grace, thank you for coming. When I sent my letter, I certainly didn’t expect to see you in person, I only hoped you might consider writing to me. I knew your parents well, and I was heartbroken to hear what happened to them. I am very sorry for your loss.” She encompassed both Fergus and Aedan in her glance, and they both nodded silently. She waited a moment to see if either would elaborate, but they didn’t.
“I wonder, what do you know of Lhanbyrde?”
Fergus cleared his throat. “Only that you apparently have my sister here – and we only learned that in the last few weeks.” He didn’t look at me, though Cylie did. “We don’t know much about the facility itself.”
She smiled, relaxing slightly. “Allow me to explain, then?” We all nodded and she continued, “Lhanbyrde has been around since the fourth Blight. Originally the facility was built in Rivain, but we were forced to flee in the face of an Exalted March about a hundred and fifty years ago. The Chantry may have been marching on the Qunari invaders, but there were fears that an independent order like ours would not be allowed to persist if the Chantry were aware of us – especially as we employ several mages at any given point. We settled here after the Llomerryn Accord and have held this location ever since.”
“What exactly is your purpose?” I asked.
The Chancellor glanced at me and then away again before answering. “We are a private healing facility for those people who have been found to be beyond traditional aid. We shelter and care for our residents who may have mental problems, physical maladies, and other complex needs. Some are here as a result of injuries, others were born with their issues. Our clients have usually seen multiple healers of every sort before they arrive here – they’ve often had magical and mundane healing attempted with no success. Many of them would be in danger were they to remain with their families, either of neglect and inadequate care, or as a target of political intrigue or assassination attempts. Having an uncle who cannot speak and must be attended at all times lest he soil himself can be a serious political liability in certain circles.”
“And I imagine it’s free for anyone who needs it,” Alistair muttered sarcastically, quietly enough that I was sure he thought only I’d be able to hear him.
Cylie must have had some amazing eardrums, because she responded as though he’d spoken normally. “Our services are costly,” she agreed, “though you might be surprised to know that we sponsor several clients every year whose families cannot afford it. We take violent, head-injury victims or other similar people who would be a risk to themselves or others as a charitable contribution.”
Suitably chastened, he sat back; I squeezed his hand.
“So my parents brought my sister here?” Fergus asked.
Cylie nodded, glancing at me surreptitiously. “When she was only a few months old. She appeared to be a physically healthy baby, but it was like she was permanently asleep. She didn’t eat or eliminate, yet still she grew. Your parents were concerned that it would not continue, that she would fail to thrive. They were also concerned about the consequences for their sons, growing up with a disabled sister – and the risks if someone attempted to use her for political gain. They came to ask whether we had some way to sustain a baby who could not eat – either to allow her to grow normally, or to prevent her from aging altogether if that was not possible.
“We rarely have infants as clients, and very few of our residents are completely non-responsive. Our healers spent days attempting to discern what ailed the child, and they found nothing. In the end we agreed to keep her safe, and to inform your parents if her condition deteriorated. They left a lifetime endowment for her care. In the end she was our easiest client, requiring no care whatsoever. She grew as any other child would, her muscles never atrophied, and when she reached adulthood, everything stabilised. She stayed the same for years.
“Until recently.”
I could actually feel eyes on me without even turning my head; unless I was very mistaken, Aedan, Zevran, and Alistair were staring at me speculatively. I knew I was flushed, though how much from embarrassment and how much from anxiety I wasn’t sure. However, the Chancellor was still trying to pretend she wasn’t taking every opportunity to look at me, and Fergus hadn’t even twitched. His expression was stern, and I watched the tiny woman telling us the story wither in the face of it.
I opened my mouth to ask, but Fergus beat me to it. “Recently?”
Cylie cleared her throat and nodded nervously. “Yes. We first noticed problems about two years ago. Occasionally, on rounds, our staff would find Elissa covered in dirt. Or sweat. Or blood. She’d need to be bathed. At first we thought nothing of it, but it happened more and more frequently. And then she’d spontaneously develop injuries we couldn’t explain: blisters, splinters, small cuts. We wrote to your parents to let them know what was happening – and then the Blight began. We never heard back from them for obvious reasons.
“And then Elissa started ... disappearing.”
I couldn’t breathe. I wasn’t sure what I’d expected when I’d come here – denial, rejection, perhaps indeterminate issues that could neither confirm nor deny my bloodline – but suddenly hope bloomed somewhere inside me. I wrapped my arms around myself trying to hold it together, and felt Alistair shift to put his arm around me too. I closed my eyes and tried to concentrate on air. Inhale, exhale, repeat. You can do it.
Nanette
- 17.11.2020
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