The cure

Isla take your medicine As with all things, understanding brought calm, and Isla felt no further fear once she knew what the grooves of pulsing light were for. What information they carried and where was still outstanding of course, but the immediate danger was passed. She faltered only once as the Voice invited her forward - one last shred of doubt to be shed before she could truly embrace the future. There was no room for doubt right now. All things should be questioned, and that part of her nature would (hopefully) never leave her, but she needed to put her trust in the Voice for the moment. For all her moments from now on, it transpired. Her blue eyes tracked the sparks of electricity that danced along the young woman's arms, Isla swallowing hard and nodding. "I am ready," she said softly. But she was wrong - nothing could prepare her for what came next. The touch against her temples was cool, then hot, then searing, like the Voice was driving needles into her skull. She crackled, she burned, standing alight before the goddess - or that's what she thought was happening. Her lips parted in a scream she couldn't hope to contain, and while she wanted to pull away, to run, to find somewhere safe that wasn't here on this pyre, her muscles locked within her. Gods, she was going to die here. With cheeks wet with tears and the strange sound of bells (she didn't know if it was real or if she was hallucinating), it finally, finally relented. Isla stood, exhausted and panting in the Voice's grip, gazing up with bloodshot eyes. ...Nothing. There was no pain. And it felt like bliss. "Yes," she said in a hoarse and broken voice. "I'm a medic. I'd like to see, to know..."