The Angel of Elydria (The Dawn Mirror Chronicles Book 1) by A. R. Meyering

blankets enveloping her aching limbs, and the pain flared up again. The gashes and wounds that spotted her legs seemed to have healed, but deep within her ribs there remained a terrible burning. It felt as if someone had sewn a hot stone inside her body, which continued to grow heavier by the moment. Soreness gripped her every muscle and her head pounded.
    Penny tried to call out for someone, but managed only a groan. Her tongue was dry and puffy, and seemed to be blocking her throat. She heard someone moving across the room. Hector came into view through the hazy blue light and sat down at her bedside.
    “Penelope?” he murmured, brushing Penny’s bangs away from her eyes. Penny shut her eyes again and gave a shallow nod to show she had heard him. The sounds of early evening drifted in through the open window.
    “Where are we?” she croaked, keeping her eyes closed tight. Even the meek light that shone from the twin moons of the Elydrian sky was enough to make Penny’s eyes sting.
    “I’m not entirely sure what to call it. Some sort of shrine, church, or temple. We’ve only just arrived, though. They should be with us shortly…or at least that’s what they said about half an hour ago. I’ll go check.” He stepped out of the tiny infirmary, assuring Penny he would return with help.
    The door creaked back open, and in shot a shaft of light, searing her aching head. She pulled the blankets up around her face to block the light and heard Hector talking with someone.
    “Well, let’s have a look-see,” an optimistic voice said. The blankets were peeled away from Penny’s face and a set of earnest, sea-green eyes peered at her in timid curiosity.
    A girl who looked not a day over twenty smiled down at Penny. She had waves upon waves of honey-colored hair that flowed down her shoulders and back. Her face was oval-shaped and pleasant. A strange white bonnet adorned her head, from which hung two golden bells on either side. The girl wore a modest white and blue robe that matched her peculiar headdress.
    “How are you feeling, my sister?” the young woman inquired. “I hear from your friend that you had quite the encounter in the Tarni woods.”
    Penny grunted in affirmation. The young woman faltered, then continued on, “I am a Junior High Priestess and the resident alchemist of this sanctuary. You may call me Armonie, if you wish. Now, what is the nature of your displeasure, sister?”
    “I feel like I’m dying. Everything hurts, I can barely move,” Penny croaked, unwilling to go into detail. Armonie blinked and looked over at Hector, nonplussed. Hector recounted the tale of Penny’s run in with the monstrous plant in as much detail as he could. Armonie’s face grew more and more somber as the story went on. The young priestess thought for a minute after Hector had fallen silent.
    “Hm. Thank you for your help, big brother,” she nodded at last to Hector. Penny did not care to lift her head to see what Armonie was up to, and was startled when she felt a dart-like pinch on her arm. Armonie gave an apologetic bow of her head as she lifted up a vial filled with blood. She bandaged Penny’s arm and bobbed over to the corner of the room, where the tinkling of glass vials and the heavy, rhythmic grind of a mortar and pestle could be heard.
    “Oh dear,” Armonie whispered after what seemed like a very long time. “I had better take these results to Madam Priestess at once. Please pardon me, friends. I won’t be long.” She fluttered through the door, her skirts rustling as she went. Penny looked at Hector, anxiety buzzing through her.
    Minutes later the door reopened and a tall, graceful woman entered. Glossy, dark brown hair had been arranged in two loops around her ears. The woman wore the same sort of robe and bonnet as Armonie, only there were no bells that jingled as she went along. She was quite a bit older than Hector, but retained the radiance of youth. She took a seat beside Penny’s bed and