Alicia woke up shivering. Consciousness returned to her slowly, which was welcome. Her whole body was in a cold sweat that had left the mattress damp and her throat was parched. She tried to sit up but found that she lacked the strength, and instead all she managed was a small thrash and a low moan.

“My lady, you’re awake!” This came from the woman sitting next to the bed, and for a moment Alicia struggled to place her. The woman was wearing a formless black dress with a long white apron over it that hung down to her knees. Her hair was pulled back and tied with a small ribbon, and in the harsh morning light Alicia could see dark circles below her brown eyes. Alicia knew she should recognize the woman, but for some reason it was escaping her--ah, that’s right, her maid Lucille. The maid stood up immediately and rushed to Alicia’s side, sitting on the bed so that she could press her hands against her forehead. They felt delightfully warm against her skin.

“My lady, it seems that your fever has broken,” she said. “I will call for the doctor at once.”

“Please do,” Alicia managed to croak out. Lucille paused for a moment in the doorframe, giving her a concerned look, and then she left.

It was difficult for Alicia to make sense of what had happened. She tried to sit up once more and managed to prop herself up on her elbow for a few seconds before the effort proved to be too much and she fell back into the mattress. It was an awfully soft mattress, she thought to herself; a four poster bed frame with a hanging canopy, although the curtains had been drawn back for now. She remembered back in college, having only a small dorm room and the stiff mattress that had given her mild insomnia for all four years that she’d attended.

Wait. Her eyes shot open. She knew that she was 12, that she had never even spent a night outside of this room much less attended any form of academic institution. And yet, that memory was utterly clear to her; she knew that old college dorm room like the back of her hand, could point out the desk where she had spent hours slaving away on the tedious drawings for her animation classes, the minifridge she kept in the corner that had only ever kept the drinks lukewarm at best, the cramped bed with the hard mattress and scratchy sheets where she had nursed a hangover the next day.

Alicia felt her breaths coming faster and faster. What were these strange thoughts and memories, to come unwelcome in her mind? What was animation, or a minifridge? The first word she almost knew; she’d heard of magnolic circuits that could animate a construct for specific tasks, but that had almost nothing to do with the memory of pressing a pen against a glass screen to draw images behind it. The second word was truly foreign, although the concept in her mind--something to keep drinks cool--was not unfamiliar.

The last thing she could recall before waking up was at the Bloom ceremony. She had pulled out the magnolic energy from the third bloom, and then it was as if no time had passed and she was waking up here. Even as she felt the throes of hysteria begin to grip her frame, a part of her could still appreciate that she had not Wilted, as she’d been afraid of. And then the new memories intruded, insisting that ‘hysteria’ was a misogynistic term from an outdated medical perspective and she felt her panic return.

Footsteps from outside announced the return of Lucille, carrying a pewter pitcher, as well as the arrival of a stout man with a bushy mustache. He was wearing a dark grey suit and carrying a large black leather bag that was embossed with a stylized golden Lily, the symbol of the Medicinal Guild. Alicia had only seen Doctor Hadwick a few times in the past, on the occasions when she had been sick and the time when her brother had broken his arm falling out of a tree, but she recognized him instantly. She remembered him as being kind yet distant and she focused on him as he entered the room to avoid her other thoughts.

“I am glad to see you’ve woken up, my lady,” the doctor said. He spoke with a slight Farcouis accent, presumably from his years studying at L’institut Medical. He set his bag down gently on the bedside table and released the clasps to open it.

“I’m glad to have awoken as well,” she replied, her voice still quite hoarse. He gave her a small professional smile.

“I’ll say, you gave us quite a fright there,” he said as he began to remove several tools from his bag. Two she recognized, like the magnifying glass or the thermometer, while the third was more obscure; there was a round metal device that looked almost like a compass attached to a dark brown ribbon with several wires coming out of it.

Alicia tried to respond but instead found herself wracked by a sudden coughing fit. By the time she finished, Lucille had poured a glass of water and set it in her hands. Alicia sipped it slowly; the water was ice-cold and refreshing. With every sip she could feel strength returning to her. She hadn’t realized how thirsty she was until that moment, and it was only her weakness that kept her from drinking it all at once. A vague memory informed her that it was probably for the best, since otherwise she ran the risk of throwing up, and she pointedly did not attempt to figure out where that memory came from.

“How are you feeling, my lady?” The doctor’s tone was comfortable, if somewhat distant.

“I’ve felt better,” Alicia replied. He gave her another thin smile, but she knew that wasn’t what he was looking for. “I feel quite fatigued, sir, both in body and spirit. My appetite has yet to return to me, but I imagine I will be famished when it does. And--” She cut herself off abruptly, covering her lapse with another brief coughing fit.

“And what, my lady?” Doctor Hadwick had seemed unsurprised by the symptoms she listed, but now she hesitated. She had been about to tell him of the other memories, but it suddenly struck her that it might not be wise. There was a very real chance that he might pronounce her to be suffering from a hysteric breakdown, and both of her memories agreed that a sanatorium was not a place she wanted to be.

Still, he was looking at her expectantly, so she had to come up with a convincing lie. “...And I’m quite cold.” It wasn’t even a complete lie-- she had been cold ever since she woke up, practically shivering even under the heavy down blankets.

“And you are quite sure there is nothing else?” His brow was drawn in a stern expression, and she wondered if his intuition somehow alerted him to the fact that she was not telling the whole truth.

“I don’t believe so,” she replied, frowning. “Should there be?”

The professional smile returned. “No, no, of course not. In fact, those symptoms are exactly what I would expect you to be experiencing at the moment. I am only trying to ensure that my initial diagnosis was correct.”

“And what exactly was that diagnosis, sir?” Her voice only quaked slightly as she asked. Even with as much etiquette training as she had received, it was still frightening to receive medical news.

“It seems you had a rather severe case of the thaumic vapors following your Bloom, which caused you to collapse and left you susceptible to a fever.” His face was serious but not quite grave, which gave her hope. “You’ve been insensible for a little over two days, my lady.”

“The thaumic vapors?” Alicia asked. She once more tried to sit up, now that her strength had somewhat returned, and Lucille helped by propping some pillows behind her.

“It’s quite common, although rarely talked about. I assure you nothing to be very worried about.” Once more the kind, professional smile. She appreciated that he didn’t seem to be talking down to her. “My lady, it is a gift from God that some of us are able to channel magnolic forces, but that does not mean it is without cost. If you attempt to channel more energy than your cardiothaumic system can handle, it will tax your whole body; generally you will first feel slightly faint and dizzy, and if you continue then it will get worse until you collapse. With children who are experiencing their first bloom, they have very little tolerance against magnolic current, and so often feel these effects.

Alicia considered this for a moment, processing the ramifications. She was glad that it wasn’t some rare disease, although she had a suspicion the doctor might be understating how rare it was to actually collapse; after all, she had never heard of that happening at any other Blooms. Finally, she spoke.

“Will this occur every time I channel?” Her heart felt like it had climbed up her neck and was pressing against her windpipe. While not as bad as Wilting, it would be awful to pass out every time she tried to use magnolic power.

“That I can’t say, my lady. Most of the severe cases I’ve seen have occurred during a Bloom, and almost all of those children recovered and reported no further relapses. I imagine that you will start learning to channel quite soon, though, so we shall find out then.” He picked up the thermometer. “Now, if my lady does not mind, I need to perform a few examinations to make sure you are properly recovering as well.”

He proceeded to hand her the thermometer, instructing her to place it in her mouth, while he used the magnifying lens to examine her eyes, ears, and the back of her throat. She had new memories of this kind of procedure, memories that also told of long waits in small rooms and beds covered in paper; privately she was glad that this was being conducted in her own bed, with Lucille right beside her. In deference to propriety, the doctor never once touched her skin, keeping a respectful distance and instructing either Alicia or Lucille where necessary.

“Miss Lucille, if you would kindly tie this ribbon around the young lady’s arm? Just above the elbow. I’m afraid it needs to be rather tight.” He handed Lucille the device that looked like a handheld compass attached to wires and a length of ribbon. The maid obediently looped it around Alicia’s arm and began competently tying it off. “A little tighter than that. Yes, that’s perfect.”

“Will that measure my blood pressure?” Alicia asked around the thermometer.

“The sphygmomanometer?” The doctor seemed surprised and almost impressed by the question. “Yes, as well as your heartbeat. It’s a quite modern design, too--I actually know the man who developed it. It’s a clever bit of circuitry; all based around measuring the flow of Life magnolic energy through the body.” He reached onto the bed and, careful once more to not make contact with her arm, picked up the three wires coming off the device with his left hand. With his other hand, he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled a small glass vial of a light-yellow oil that was faintly glowing to her eyes.

He uncapped the vial and poured a small amount into the palm of his hand. She could feel the magnolic energy boiling there, waiting to be used, although it wasn’t calling out to her. Carefully, he capped the vial and returned it to his pocket, and then with a brief expression of concentration he sent a current down the wire and into the device. It felt cold and tingly against her skin, and she shivered despite herself as the current of Life passed through her veins. She could see the dial climb for a few seconds before it came to a resting point, and then it came to a halt around the halfway point. As it happened, the oil lost its glow and the faint smell of marigolds filled the air, until he stopped the current and wiped away the remainder of the oil with a handkerchief.

“Well, that’s about what I would expect. Miss Lucille, if you could remove the sphygmomanometer and hand me the thermometer as well?” He briefly looked at the thermometer, nodded in satisfaction, and then wiped it off with the same handkerchief.

“Well, my lady, I would advise not doing anything overly strenuous in the next two or three days, but otherwise you seem to be on the path to recovery; and I will leave you to do just that.” He began placing the tools back in the bag as he talked. “Heaven willing, you won’t have cause to see me in a formal capacity for quite some time, my lady.”

He gave her a brief bow. “Thank you, Doctor Hadwick,” Alicia replied. He bowed again and then he was gone, leaving her alone with her maid. The encounter had exhausted her, more due to her condition than any fault of the doctor, but regardless she felt ready to fall back asleep again. She started to rearrange the pillows so that they would be more comfortable for sleeping.

“My lady,” Lucille interjected, “there’s something else you should know.”

Alicia stopped what she was doing and looked at the maid. “What is it?”

Lucille seemed nervous, looking down as she spoke. “His Highness Prince Alsander will be visiting tomorrow.”

Alicia’s head snapped toward her made, exhaustion forgotten. “He’s what?!”