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The importance of words

Posted on Mon Jan 11th, 2021 @ 9:58am by Captain Rhenora Kaylen

Mission: Healing of Minds
Location: Bajor

Rhenora stumbled backward from the Orb, her head swimming and vision blurry from the experience. She had no idea how much time had expired - it had felt like a day but most likely was only an hour, a few at most. The cleric caught her, seemingly prepared for the fall as though it happened every day - maybe it did. He motioned for her to follow him into a prepared room. A chair sat against one wall, a bed on another, a shrine on the third and a desk on the 4th. A room of retrospective contemplation about what had just transpired.

“The Brotherhood will return for you tomorrow, please, use this time to reflect. There is some soup on the table, more will be provided should you require it. I am here to serve” The cleric bowed and left, his work for now completed. He would act as a sounding board, a quiet ear, or a calming presence for whatever those that had just experienced an Orb may require. It was his purpose to serve the Prophets in such a way.

Rhenora bowed in return and allowed the timber door to be closed, leaving her alone in the space. The room was sparse but functional, rustic but somewhat pleasant. She would need for nothing whilst she was there. Her bones felt weary and her head still swam, images darting in and out of her mind as it tried to discern what was fact and what was fiction. She dropped into the chair set in front of the table and opened the small cabinet on top of it. A pen and a blank notebook were there, along with several sacred texts and other books on the topic. Fingertips trailing over the worn leather covers she gravitated towards the notebook, opening the simple bound pages and taking hold of the pen. She proceeded to write as much detail of the experience as she could whilst it was still fresh in her mind - leaving herself notes on pieces that didn’t make sense or required further thought. This process took several hours as she nutted out the guts of the experience, from all the faces, the emotion and what she felt the overall ‘lesson’ was. Control - she had to let go of ALWAYS being in control. Sometimes things were best left to beings higher than herself. It would go against her very nature, sometimes grate at the very core of her being - but she made a promise to explore other options - including if those options were to let the Prophets handle things.

She wrote until her hand ached from the pen, and her eyes blurred from reading and rereading. It was late, sometime in the last few hours someone had lit the scones on the wall, providing illumination for her to continue her work. The soup was forgotten and cold but she paused to consume it anyway. A basic vegetable broth that was surprisingly flavoursome even in its cold state. Somehow she felt most that came here had cold soup. She understood why Remal found journalling so therapeutic. Not only did it record whatever was going on, but it helps one process and digest thoughts and feelings. It was more than an experience, it was the acknowledgement of feelings and untruths she had previously held, and how her recent experienced had put everything into question.

The soup was replaced, additional notebooks supplied and a supplementary pen if she needed it. Night turned into morning which turned into midday. The Brotherhood hadn't arrived, and Kaylen was thankful, she could work more on her writing. She seemed fixated on putting everything on paper, not just her recent experience but her time with the Brotherhood, Remal, the Liberty, the Sunfire and all that went before. Tea and soup were replenished at regular intervals, as were notepads. No words were exchanged, just a silent understanding that this was a critical part in her journey. The Clerics provided the physical sustenance, her Pagh provided the perspective and the reasoning.


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