Eun-Hee: I Can't Do This

Mother was having a bad day. Rocking back and forth, crying for Father, leaving deep scratches in her arms where she clawed at them. Eun-Hee tried to calm her, asked to be sung to, asked to curl up and sleep, but Mother was too trapped inside her own mind. So Eun-Hee got out her holy symbol, and tried to magically soothe her.

It didn’t work. The magic, a looming and menacing presence usually, was just… gone. Eun-Hee tucked away her symbol and asked Zarya for some laudanum. It didn’t take long to have a nice cup of tea made, that put Mother right to sleep. Eun-Hee curled up next to her, and pulled her symbol out once again. Traced her fingers along the curves of the antlers, and remembered what she’d read. Beshaba was a goddess of misfortune. Of suffering. Eun-Hee hadn’t ever been a devout type of cleric. She’d thought maybe she wasn’t even drawing power from a god. But, maybe that was wrong. Maybe now that Eun-Hee was away from that place, full of suffering, Beshaba wasn’t interested in her any more.

Eun-Hee tucked away her symbol. She’d read about other spellcasters, who didn’t need a god to support them. Wizards. She’d do more research on them when she could. For now, she stroked her mother’s hair and kissed her forehead. The laudanum locked her deep into her dreams. Eun-Hee hoped they were pleasant ones.

~\*~\*~\*~\*~\*~

“I *told* you!” Eun-Hee clutched the book to her chest, doing her best not to cry. “I told you not to do it. I didn’t need this!” Not if the cost was lives. Zarya— well. She looked regretful at least.

“I’m sorry Eun-Hee,” she said. “I didn’t mean to kill anybody. But I got outta jail and managed to get the book too!” Like that somehow made it better. It was a nice book. Really expensive— or would have been, if they’d paid for it.

“I could have waited,” Eun-Hee said, giving up and scrubbing at her eyes. “I— I didn’t want it this way, Zarya. They won’t come *back*.”

“I could… return it?” Zarya offered. As if that’d do anything to help. Eun-Hee clutched the book tighter. Her patients were out of control. And Eun-Hee couldn’t do anything to stop them.

“I’ll— I’ll keep it,” she said. There were a few spells she’d known that would help keep people under control. Maybe she could re-learn them. And then, then she could stop something like this from happening again.

Zarya brightened. Like she’d done a good thing. Eun-Hee scrubbed at her eyes again. “Aw. Don’t worry Eun-Hee. It won’t happen again.” She hugged the little tiefling, and Eun-Hee let her. Wishing that she could believe it.

~\*~\*~\*~\*~\*~

Irah was having a particularly bad day. Zarya hadn’t let Eun-Hee give him any laudanum so they wouldn’t have to deal with it. It put her teeth on edge. She remembered fireballs consuming her, eating away at her flesh. Burning *hurt*. And every time she moved wrong, Irah jumped, and twitched, and Eun-Hee felt like she’d be reliving it again. Only this time she wouldn’t wake up from it.

Eun-Hee needed some way to keep herself safe. So she busied herself with her spellbook. It was a wonderful book. Sometimes, Eun-Hee forgot it had been paid for in blood. The pages smelled like wisdom and magic, and even her rough, scratchy quill left the prettiest marks behind. It made the outline of how to do the spell look so simple. Eun-Hee studied it, nodded a bit to herself. Yes. She was pretty sure she could do this.

No time like the present to try it out. Eun-Hee closed her book, carefully set it aside, and went right up to Irah. He jumped and shied away, his fingers twitching like he was ready to cast a fireball. Eun-Hee beat him to it. She thrust her antlers at him— they’d worked before as a focus, they could again— and called “*Hold*!”

It worked. Irah froze. The only movement the frightened twitching of his eyes, and the rapid rise and fall of his chest. Satisfied, Eun-Hee dropped it. “I’m *not* helpless,” she hissed at Irah, ready to cast the spell again if he seemed about to spell her.

Zarya stepped in then. Calming Irah down, and telling Eun-Hee she shouldn’t have done that. Eun-Hee turned and walked away, focus still clenched tightly in her fist. She could do this. She had something she *could* do, now.

~\*~\*~\*~\*~\*~

Eun-Hee wasn’t supposed to cast Hold Person on the others. Eun-Hee wasn’t supposed to dump laudanum into their food. Eun-Hee was supposed to just— sit back, and watch everything burn, and do *nothing*.

Eun-Hee *couldn’t*.

It was the middle of the night. Eun-Hee waited till everyone was sleeping soundly. Mother woke sluggishly, trying to protest. Eun-Hee held her mouth closed until she stopped. The others remained asleep, thankfully. Eun-Hee folded up a note, and placed it under a stone next to Zarya. Then she took Mother, and they left. Eun-Hee wiped at her eyes as they walked away, refusing to look back. Eun-Hee was out of the asylum. She was no longer a healer, a doctor. She had no patients. So it was time to act like it.

*Zarya—*

*I’ve left. Please don’t look for me. I can’t do this anymore. I’m not your doctor, and that scares me. I’m taking Mother, and I don’t know what I’m going to do. I suppose I’ll figure it out. Please, try not to kill anyone, and try not to let anyone else kill anyone. They listen to you, somewhat.*

*I will miss you. You were brave, and looked out for us. I wish more of the doctors were like that. I wish I was like that.*

*Goodbye—*

*Eun-Hee*