1 Work by TwoBitBroker
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Summary
Miquella scans the miscellany of curatives, preservatives, and blood-filled vials around the room (eyes darting quickly past the mirror… he really ought to get rid of it). The bandages, the boluses, the unguents. None do anything for his sister’s pain, or address its root cause.
When he feels lost, it’s easy to become swallowed up by the enormity of it all. But the weight of the blade in his hand keeps him grounded. That familiar urge.
(or: before he waters the Haligtree with his blood, before he throws away his body, Miquella begins bloodletting for reasons he can't quite allow himself to think about.)