Day 218 - Word training # 6

Day 218 - Word training # 6

“No.”

She sighs again, and it seems as though she's more frustrated than usual.  “I swear, for all of your aptitude, it's like you're fighting this.”
“I hope that you don't think that I am.”
“I know that you aren't.  That's part of what makes this so,” she pauses, before looking away.

My arms aren't aching.  Not necessarily.  That stopped being the correct word several hours ago.  It's more that the numbness has grown continuously sharper and more uncomfortable until it's become worse than any dull ache.  My legs don't feel any better, but for some reason I can bear that pain more easily.

I would be much better about both if I didn't feel quite so nauseated.

She looks back.  “It's been thirty-six hours now.”
“Yes ma'am.”
“Don't call me 'ma'am,' we've been over this.”
My voice gives out halfway through answering “Right.”
I've spent enough time around her now to see when it happens.  Her expression doesn't really change at all, but it relaxes.  I don't know if that makes sense.  Maybe it just feels softer.
“You don't have to continue.”
“I want to.”

She nods.  “Fine, but that's enough.  You're to rest and try again tomorrow.”
I try not to simply drop the weights.  Lowering my arms is vastly more difficult, and more painful, than simply holding them.  It doesn't matter anyway, as the last effort is beyond me and my arms finally give out at the end of it.  I wince as the metal hits the stone with a clack.  I wince again as I fall to my knees.  Again, the feeling of my muscles relaxing is somehow so much worse.  Stabbing pinprick sensations radiate outward from a dozen points on my body.

“You're not well, paladin.”  I nod.  “Your muscles are torn, your ribs are bruised, and you're about to vomit again.”  I nod.  “At the current rate, you won't have healed enough by the end of a month to continue your training.”  I nod.  “At the current rate, you won't be able to return to service, either.”  I nod.  “If you don't finish this session early, the damage to your body will be irreparable.”

I vomit.
The off-white fluid fades from sight, once again cleared away by my instructor.  “I'll ask you again.  Do you understand?”
I start to open my mouth, but think better of it.  I shake my head.

“Why do you want the words, paladin?”

I look up at her.  This is a new question.  “Because,” I begin, before swallowing heavily, “humans are weak.”
Again, her expression doesn't really change.  I don't think it would be obvious if you put two pictures of her side-by-side.  If I had to say, though, I'd thought that I'd just hurt her.

She turns and walks toward the door.  “Your training continues tomorrow, paladin.”

I nod, and as soon as the door closes, I vomit again.

There isn't a bed this time.  Just stone.  I know I should go get water, to clean my teeth and to rehydrate.  I don't think I can, though.  Gingerly, hissing through my teeth, I tilt over and set myself on my side.  Every point that touches the floor somehow hurts even worse than the others.  I try not to vomit, so that I won't fall asleep in it.

I'm crying.  That's not right.  Crying implies sorrow and sobbing.  Tears are coming out of my eyes, and just that.

I open my eyes, thinking that I'd blinked.  It takes me too long to realize that I hadn't.  I'd fallen asleep without noticing it.  My body burns.  All of it, inside and out, burns.  Why does my throat burn?  Why does my cheek burn?  Why is my cheek wet?  I close my eyes as I realize why.

I open them again when I understand.