Teacup Story – Headache

Guala suffered because the gods willed it so. It didn’t mean that she could take the fight for much longer (Rating: T, Genre – Fantasy, Sci Fi, Action)

Guala’s head pounded with the strength of a thousand Netraphas. It hurt. It really hurt.

The pain potion wasn’t working. The dark room wasn’t working. The priestess chanting crap over her head all morning wasn’t working.

It just hurt. Almost to the point that she couldn’t even feel when one thump ended and the next began.

Gods just let this end, she thought, please.

But they wouldn’t, not in a million years. This was her curse to suffer according to Ing, the goddess who had visited her all those fateful years ago. It was her way of attaining a stronger understanding, Ing had said, to give her powers that no one else on this world had seen in a millennia.

But that meant she had to pass through the suffering of a curse which broke her down, for five years, to prove herself worthy. Five years of being unable to leave the house, on some days unable to leave her bed. It meant that she had missed her little brother growing up, his first fights in the Reglagi competitions, his first Netraphas riding lessons. She had missed her friends catch ups, their talks and their troubles, watching as they had drifted away from her as their lives took them down different paths to new villages full of new opportunity.

But Guala stayed at home, in her tiny hut, waiting for the pain to subside.

But it never did.

Guala opened her eyes, wincing at the bright light which shone through the heavily curtained windows. For most people, that light would be barely enough to see by. For Guala, it was like she was staring at the sun.

She fumbled next to her for the piece of chalk, catching it between her fingers. Her hands hurt, her body hurt, her whole brain thrummed with pain as she forced herself to sit upright, wobbling and shaking as her weak muscles hurt with the excursion.

One more day, Guala thought as she placed the chalk against the wall, marking off another day of her suffering. Soon, they would have to move her bed so she could start on the next wall of her room.

Three years, two months and twenty six days so far.

Guala finished her line, dropping the chalk and falling back onto her bed, exhausted.

It felt like eternity. It felt like her whole body was on fire.

This was her own personal hell.

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