Chapter 3
It was around the start of month two that Emily had quite literally stumbled upon Lute, lying unconscious, dead to the world in a meadow of tall purple flowers. She had been out looking for a river, hoping that she would be able to dig up some clay from its banks. Pottery was a great way to pass the time, which she always had a surplus of when she was on probation. The best part was, Emily could make whatever she wanted.
Last probation, she’d decided on an ocean animal theme for her creations, since she had served her sentence on a coastline. She had been especially proud of an octopus-themed teapot that she’d sculpted. It wasn’t until after the teapot had been completely finished and meticulously glazed that Emily realized there were no herbs that she could find and use to make tea with.
Another punishment.
One day, she set out to look again, convinced that there had to be something out there. Chamomile, mint, rose hips? Heavens, she’d even settle for lavender, which was at the bottom of the list of her favorites. She had wandered for hours, walking for only Archangel knows how many miles, her mind somehow feeling both clouded and blank as her feet continued to move as if of their own will.
Emily couldn’t really remember the details, but she must have lost her footing while skirting a cliff edge.
The water had been freezing cold, knocking the breath out of her completely, and she certainly did recall the way its frigid embrace began to tighten and drag her downwards into the darkness. She’d woken up back in the hut, her dress still soaked and heavy, sprawled out on the floor in a puddle.
Years later, when Sera had finally come to bring her back to Heaven, Emily had nearly asked if she could bring the octopus teapot back with her, but quickly thought better upon seeing the taller angel’s mood.
Emily had been lost in that memory when she all but tripped over the body, nearly swearing aloud.
She took note of the handful of purple blossoms that had fallen from their stalks and were now sprinkled atop Lute’s body. Most were wilted, hinting at the fact that Lute had likely been there for a while. Emily knelt and carefully pressed two fingers to the exorcist’s throat.
Please, please don’t let her be dead.
Though Lute’s skin felt worryingly cold, she felt a pulse, abnormally slow but nonetheless consistent and steady. Emily’s hands shook as the relief swept through her body, having mentally prepared herself for the worst. The angel scanned the motionless body quickly, searching for any obvious sites of trauma– fuck.
Lute only had one arm.
Emily froze, still down on her knees, her mind racing. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” she whispered, more to herself than Lute. You can help her. She’ll heal. You have to take her back to the hut, though, and quickly. Before she could think twice, her body was already in motion, looping her arms under the exorcist’s armpits to pull her up. When Emily stood fully, she carefully ducked under Lute’s right arm and maneuvered her body onto her shoulders. The exorcist’s head lolled, neck limp.
Finally back at the hut, Emily kicked the door open, crossed the room, and gently maneuvered the exorcist onto the bed. I should make sure she doesn’t have any other injuries. I should take her clothes off–
Emily physically recoiled, and immediately felt her face burn. She didn’t need a mirror to know that her cheeks were purple right now. I… She seems like… um, I think it’ll be okay if I just look for any bloodstains that show up on her clothes. If I don’t find any, it’s probably okay if I, uh, just keep her clothes on her.
Tapping into the already meager amount of power she had to begin with, Emily stared at her open palm and visualized gauze. Her nose scrunched in concentration, and a thick roll of the pale cloth appeared. Thank the Virtues. Emily let go of the breath she’d been holding, but noticed with a frown that she felt completely drained now.
She tried not to sway on her feet, leaning against the side of the bed to steady herself as she reached toward the exorcist’s injury. Most of the golden blood had already clotted, forming muted, flaky scabs, but fresh blood still continued to weep from certain parts. In all honesty, Emily didn’t really know anything about first aid, but she couldn’t just stand there and stare.
She unraveled the gauze, thankful that the last of her power was at least able to produce such a sizeable amount, and began to wrap. Emily kept the cloth taught as she wound it around and around - pressure would help stop the bleeding, right?
Once the entire strip of gauze had been used, Emily leaned closer to inspect her handiwork. The bandage didn’t seem like it could slip off by accident, should the exorcist start tossing and turning or something. Spots of dark yellow began to bloom on the chalky cloth already, but Emily wasn’t sure what more she could do. She suddenly felt exhausted. When was the last time she’d used up all of her power? It certainly never happened to her in Heaven.
Emily reached for the exorcist's throat and felt for a pulse again. Satisfied that Lute’s heartbeat sounded steady, she pulled the tan quilt over the exorcist. Emily shuffled over to the cot near the stove, eyes sliding shut as soon as her head made contact with the firm surface.