| Blythe Vhoori Stoker ( @ 2008-06-13 11:00:00 |
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| Entry tags: | eileen, henry, mitch, will |
The Tower
The incident with Henry and Mitch (and Will, I suppose, as well) has left Asgard shaken once more. It makes me sick to my stomach.
When Henry and Will came in, bloody and wounded, it was...I couldn't see the wounds. And I feel blessed for that. It was so much to do.
Eileen was a wonderful help. I would not have been able to treat them properly if she hadn't aided me. I owe her a debt of gratitude that would take lifetimes to repay.
When Mitch came home I feared I would scream out my lungs! How cruel is this? How heartless! How predictable that it should happen to some of the best of us. They sit over there in their Niflheim, hardly making a sound until suddenly one of us is missing and the others are forming a cavalry.
What is it we're doing wrong?
I am pitiful.
I should know better. I should! To heal so much when I'm not ready...
This is my downfall. To offer assistance when there are other as capable, if not more, than I am. Alice could have saved them. Why didn't I simply go to her and ask her? It is her gift; her birthright. It is only something I know how to do.
And now I am ill. I am coughing up blood, of all things. I know what it is, even if I cannot see it. Sometimes I fear someone will see it - that I won't clean it off my face well enough. My body is too tired, even my visions will not come to me. I am sore, but I must pull myself together. They cannot know.
It can only get better. It must!