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Deep inside the massive landship called Rhodes Island, there is a hall as wide as a city street containing countless rows upon rows of shoe lockers. Each door for every cubby is kept tightly locked – for they are memorials dedicated to the deceased. Only the few personnel assigned to the Rhodes Island Memorial Hall are allowed to carry master keys to open the lockers. Upon confirming an operator’s death, the deceased’s closest confidant is given an individual key to access the operator’s locker. While the bodies of the infected cannot be preserved, it was Amiya’s idea to create another kind of cemetery to honor the dead once they have passed.
It was Folinic who ended up with Dr. Atro’s key after returning from her mission in Wolumonde. When she first clutched it in her hand, she couldn’t understand the mix of fury and sorrow that she barely had time to process in all the chaos of that incident. It activated all at once, she nearly tossed it as far as she could in a fit of anger, but a sentimental side had kept her from letting it go. An old necklace and a letter to her friends at Rhodes Island were all that was left inside at the time – her final mementos. She must have realized the risk of leaving for Leithania, yet she still pushed on to help the poor infected in that godawful city.
Much time has passed since then, much has happened, and still, Folinic visits that grave often to pay her respects. She was not, however, expecting the recent recruit’s request to join her in paying respects.
“Operator Folinic,” Mudrock’s soft-spoken voice addressed her. “I would like to visit the landship’s memorial.”
With Mudrock joining, checking up on her infection and making sure she’s getting proper treatment has become part of her daily routine. That much is typical for a medic operator in her position. Surprisingly, though… she’s found herself paying extra attention to Mudrock. Most other operators seem intimidated by the Sarkaz woman who rarely removes her armor, but Folinic has seen the good in Mudrock’s heart.
What she’s noticed is that Mudrock herself seems equally intimidated by her fellow operators. She won’t admit it, but she’s probably just shy. Folinic is kind of bad at socializing, so she never knows what to talk about, but perhaps their past encounters have allowed Mudrock to be more comfortable when it’s just the two of them. With a stethoscope to her chest, she could feel Mudrock’s heart beating steadily – healthily enough for someone with originium stuck in their veins. “No sudden developments with the originium in your heart, so we can rest easy for now,” Folinic said while falling back into her chair. “Make sure you’re getting enough sleep. Have you been taking any medications before bed?”
Mudrock shook her head.
“I’ll prescribe you a sleep aid then.” Folinic quickly scribbled ‘Mudrock - diphenhydramine hci’ on her notepad. She took a deep breath in before resolving to stop dodging the question. “I can take you there. What brought this on?”
“Um…” Mudrock’s quiet voice grew slightly shyer, as if she was uncertain she was allowed to answer the question. Folinic gave her the best she can manage for a reassuring smile, though she was not certain if it came across or if she just looked like she was trying too hard. Either way, Mudrock continued. “I was hoping to honor my fallen friends.”
For a moment, Folinic’s stomach churned. Ah. Right. She knew Atro, too. But she understood. Mudrock was no longer her enemy, perhaps she never was. It was her right to mourn for her deceased friend. Neither of them could truly put the Twilight of Wolumonde behind them; such an incident could never have allowed them satisfying closure.
It was the least Folinic could do to let Mudrock say her peace.
Mudrock began to don her armor once more, but Folinic insisted she didn’t need to. She grew more timid at the thought of leaving the medical office without her mask, so Folinic didn’t push much on the subject and simply guided her toward the nearest elevator. Thankfully her heavy armor isn’t a problem; these elevators are built sturdy enough to lift hulking beasts on the off-chance that such a situation occurred.
Whenever Folinic thought of the Memorial Hall, she remembered the dim lighting inside it with overhead lights set to their lowest possible brightness. It was the feeling of being inside a clinic with the lights still on far past closing hours or hiding inside a shed with only a lantern to support you, its oil half-depleted. It was the mood of being in a place without feeling like you’re there. She glanced toward Mudrock and wondered what she might be feeling beneath that mask.
Before reaching Atro’s memorial, Mudrock had stopped by a few other lockers making note of the name plates attached. One was another former Reunion leader – they may have disagreed in the past, but she clarified that it only felt right to honor her memory. Another one was empty, lacking any nameplate or identification.
“What’s on your mind?” Folinic asked, though she wondered if she was overstepping her boundaries as she stepped closer to Mudrock and tried to figure out which cubby she was focused on.
“I have other friends. They couldn’t make it this far. I don’t remember all of their names or faces… but they deserve peace as well.”
Folinic remained silent. She closed her eyes and lowered her head. Despite the intimidating exterior, Mudrock truly was a kindhearted woman with a warrior’s heart. That kindness may have been infectious, Folinic soon found herself praying for the peaceful rests of those comrades she never had the chance to meet.
Finally, they made their way to Dr. Atro’s grave. It was a long walk between the lockers, and Folinic still found herself shaking, her fingers curled into a fist trying to suppress the rage, rage that had never truly left since she saw her dear friend’s burnt corpse among the victims.
Fire.
“Folinic,” a soft voice spoke to her.
Burning.
Smoke.
As she felt her anger building, the voice reached toward her inner heart and tried to pull her back. “Operator Folinic, can you hear me?”
Ash.
Mudrock’s voice was quiet, but the determination in her tone was clear. Mudrock was a woman of few words so when she spoke, it was only right to listen.
It was soothing. Almost soothing enough to keep Folinic’s rage at bay. But not quite. Her knees began to shake and remembered what it feels like to fall, to feel yourself lose everything and hit the ground. She began to let it happen while still holding back any semblance of tears from her eyes. Gravity started to take her, and she held one hand out to catch the floor.
…
She never reached that floor. A firm grip around her upper arm held her back as her legs swayed against the ground. It was Mudrock’s hand, bare flesh – not covered by a suit of armor or a glove. It was soft, comfortable to feel against her, but strong and resolute. Carefully, Mudrock helped her back up before removing her hand. “Apologies. I noticed you were distressed and acted on my own,” she said. Folinic had failed to notice until now, but Mudrock had meanwhile been removing her armor.
Folinic’s heart skips a beat upon the realization that she has never been held like this by a woman as strong as Mudrock before, with such a firm grasp on her… but this is hardly the time or place to think about that. “No,” Folinic answered. “Thank you. I was remembering something terrible.”
“Mm,” Mudrock nodded.
Their eyes met. Folinic’s muscles were still tense.
“Operator Mudrock, if you don’t mind… could you keep talking?” It wasn’t a request she’d normally make to anyone, but Mudrock’s soothing voice and kind hearted yet mature nature made it comforting to listen to her whenever she spoke.
“Are you certain? I’m… not sure what to say…”
“Anything is fine.”
“Mm.” Mudrock had to pause for a moment, but soon spoke up with what words she could think of. “You’re a lot like her. She was meticulous, always attentive toward the infected in her care. She had all our names and faces memorized and where on our bodies had the highest rate of infection, which areas and organs to pay attention to.”
Folinic wanted to cry, but perhaps she had already shed as many tears as she could.
That gentle voice continued. “I never once felt wary around her, even when I had to remove my armor for her check-ups.” Another pause, then Mudrock leaned in and rested her forehead against Folinic’s. “It’s the same with you.”
Folinic pressed back, truly feeling the warmth of her Sarkaz comrade’s words. The blazing fire of fury had settled in her heart to a comforting candlelight. She exhaled, allowing herself to accept a moment of peace.
…
After a brief period of silent calm, they disconnected their foreheads. Mudrock murmured as she stepped back, “You’re… more high-strung, though.”
“Hey!” Folinic protested, but she was a bit too distracted by how pretty Mudrock’s face looks right now. It’s such a contrast from her rugged exterior, but that makes her all the more beautiful.
Ah. Right. Not the time or place for this.
A few days later. It was the late evening, Folinic was lying on her bed in the darkness of her dorm room reciting the medical dictionary in her mind. Limb. Limb-gridle muscular dystrophy. Liminal. Lindane. Line. Lineage. Lingual. It was a habit she had picked up on early in her studies with Dr. Kal’tsit, and ever since then it’s been her go-to method to help her fall asleep. There was something calming about hearing those words all in order, they numbed her senses enough for her to fall asleep.
Before she could make it further, her thoughts were interrupted by a light rapping against her door. At first she mistakes it for footsteps in the hallway, but it soon sounds out again with just a slight bit more force behind it. She quickly pulls herself out of bed to answer the door, and standing before her is the Sarkaz woman with beautiful light hair, soft cheeks, and a muscular build. This time she wasn’t wearing any armor, she stood shyly in the liminal light between the hallway and Folinic’s room.
“Mudrock? Is there something wrong?”
Mudrock nodded slightly, quietly, before speaking. “I took that medicine you suggested, but I’m still having trouble sleeping.”
“Ah.” Folinic sighed with relief, thankful it was nothing particularly urgent before stepping aside. “Come on in.”
Mudrock followed inside and the door shut behind her. In spite of her size, Mudrock’s footsteps barely made a noise as she walked across the room, Folinic guiding her to her bedside.
Folinic reached over to her nightstand and turned the dial of her lamp ever-so slightly up to illuminate Mudrock’s figure. “I’ll see about upping your dosage then. If that doesn’t work, we can try something else.”
“Mm,” Mudrock nodded. Folinic was getting used to that signature nod accompanied by a mild ‘mm’ sound. Learning someone else’s language wasn’t something she was used to, as someone who had frequently put her social life aside to focus on work. It’s kind of… nice. She’s begun to treasure the chance she has to communicate like this.
“In the meantime, you could try drinking some chamomile tea and holding onto a pillow.”
“A pillow?” Mudrock’s head tilts, puzzled.
“Or a stuffed animal. There’s not much medical basis, but many people seem to find holding onto something helps them fall asleep.”
“Um, in that case…” Mudrock’s expression grew more timid, flush appearing across her face. Cautiously, she held her arms out towards Folinic.
Folinic stared at this gesture for a second before she could process what it meant. When she put it together, she let out a hushed, “Eh?!” She felt her own face growing warm at the thought, her Feline ears twitched. But she conceded. “...Er, go ahead…”
Mudrock dimmed the lights until all Folinic could see was her silhouette. Soon she felt sturdy arms reaching over her waist. They joined together under the covers, Folinic on her side facing away, hearing Mudrock’s breaths from just behind her. Her bed was just big enough to fit them both, though she worried about Mudrock’s horns bumping up against the nightstand which doubled as her headboard. Mudrock’s hold was gentle, yet firm. Those arms were something comforting, something lovely.
“Mudrock…?”
“Mm?”
“Thank you.”
“Mm,” she nodded.
Just as she did on the battlefield, Mudrock’s strength created a sense of safety that Folinic held close to her heart. She loved that about her, she truly loved it.