A Bitter Pill

Alnar opened his eyes. He looked up at the stone ceiling. They were staying in a tavern?

Immediately a myriad of thoughts swirled in my head, tangled in a tight ball. One flowed into a second, a second into a third, a third into a fifth, only to return to the fourth. Basically, the usual morning thought mishmash.

"I should ask them to make Said breakfast", Alnar thought to himself. Sharar had become so overworked during the month-long journey by the sudden duties of a servant that thoughts of what was to be done for Said had become habitual.

In fact, to be fully honest, Alnar was terribly annoyed by his position at the moment. Even more than a broken horn. He was already acting as a bodyguard and amusement every day, and now he had to endlessly mess around with that great-aged... Ugh…

Despite the noticeable age difference, Alnar sometimes felt that he was forced to be a baby-sitter. Said was not at all self-sufficient, thank God, at least he know how to washed himself. Otherwise, the constant nightmares from the past would have been joined by even more frightening scenes.

Along the way, Alnar had time to rethink his existence, a couple of passages from the scriptures, and his views on life. One would think, a man of forty years old and not even know how to wash his socks or peel a potato. No, in some ways Alnar understood him - he grew up in a rich family and was surrounded by servants - but he knew how to do simple household chores.

Alnar sat up in bed and rubbed his eyes. Okay, that wasn't so bad! At least he wouldn't be cooking, which meant that the worst thing that awaited him would be muttering about how the cooks in the tavern were stupid, crooked idiots (to which he could nod smartly and not listen), not a "why are there five pieces of carrot in my pilaf instead of six?!" level scandal.

“Good morning”.

 Alnar twitched sharply with his whole body. And then he remembered yesterday and the events before it. And exhaled. He wouldn't have to carry breakfast.

"Is everything all right?"  Iney asked politely, closing the book.
"I just haven't fully woken up. Don't take it... personally."
"I wasn't going to. So, you and I don't have much time..."  Iney began. Alnar tapped his tail on the bed nervously.
"Before the interrogation?"
"Before the psychiatrist's appointment".
"What...?" Alnar stared at the sugrobic.
"Look", Iney stood up from his seat, "because of your wonderful performance... You don't know the word performance either?"
"Yes".
"Long story short, I wrote a report about yesterday".
"And so... What?" Alnar blinked slowly, "do you realize that I don't understand what your "psychiatrist" is?"

Iney looked thoughtfully at Alnar's face.

"Bromdihydrochlorphenylbenzodiazepinum was unnecessary", he said after a few seconds.
"Stop talking with scary complicated words, I'm about to start speaking in Alhararic with a very creepy accent", said Alnar grudgingly.
"Let's start by degree of difficulty...", Iney interlaced his fingers, "Bromdihydro..."
"That word scares me, and how easily you pronounce it.
"All right, all right. Remember when I brought you those pills tonight?"
"Well... Yes."
"It was a sedative. The medical office decided to be a little bit over-insured... They over-over-insured, it was unnecessary. You can hardly form meaningful sentences."
"Is it for the rest of my life? " frightened Alnar asked.
"No, for six hours at most", reassured Iney, "performance means the same thing as show. It's my responsibility to report on self-harming behavior. That's why they've got you on a psychiatric hold."

 Iney walked to the door and turned to Alnar.

"Do you eat poppy seed buns?"
"I do", answered Alnar confusedly. He didn't really understand the connection of what was going on.
"And do you drink black tea?"
"I do..."
"Well that's lovely", Iney looked out into the corridor and said something. Alnar put his tail around his legs, looking expectantly at his companion. Will they feed him? Will they answer his burning question?

Seriously, he wouldn't be interested in what a "psychiatrist" was at all, if it weren't for the endless postponement of explaining what it was... Alnar's hunting excitement and natural curiosity were awakened.

A few minutes later, the breakfast was brought to him. Tactically, it was decided that food was more interesting than abstruse Hladogorian words. Alnar raised his ears impatiently and tapped his tail on the bed.

"Are you hungry?" Iney passed the food inside the cell.
"I'm starving", Alnar immediately gnawed into the bun.

The last time he ate was last night. Dinner was very strange: cold and reeking of something... Not very understandable and not necessarily edible. Alnar thought he was being poisoned and heroically ate the entire portion (to avoid awkward conversations in the future), but half an hour later he fell asleep just as heroically. And even slept. But even then wasn't really satiated, and now the feeling of hunger was even more acute.

The bun was wonderful: soft, with lots of poppy seeds, and incredibly warm... It seemed to Alnar to be the best pastry he'd eaten in a long time. Iney watched the act of eating the baked goods with a slightly tense expression.

"I... I hadn't noticed how sharp your teeth are."
"Ordinary sharar teeth", snarled Alnar, "more importantly: a psychiatrist. What's that?"
"Not what, but who. It's a doctor who helps solve any problems... With moods. Or thoughts."
"I don't have any problems", Alnar replied, licking his lips, "actually no, there is one: I want another bun".
"You tried to get me to kill you".
"It's a matter of duty, and I didn't think to break the mirror", Sharar snorted. Taking the cup in his hands, he began to enjoy its contents as well. The tea was perfectly brewed, and Alnar was seriously considering calling it the best meal of his life.

 Iney looked a bit preoccupied and nervous.

"This... The matter of duty looks unhealthy."
"Did you just humiliate the traditions of my kind?"
"No, you're just acting like you have nothing more to lose."
"Because I do?", Alnar looked at Iney incomprehensibly, "isn't it obvious? I no longer belong to my family, because I disgraced myself, I have no friends, my love betrayed me, only my horse remains. And then, at such a pace, she will be allowed for meat and liver".

 Iney looked sadly into Alnar's eyes.

 "You don't want to fight for your life at all?"

 Alnar shrugged indefinitely. He was beginning to tire of this conversation.

"What do you care? Or are you just trying to understand those with flesh and blood? You're a curious one."
"Yes", Iney answered with sudden directness, "you are the most incomprehensible creature I have ever met. And I am curious as to why you are like that. But it's still worth going to the doctor: you just sit with her and talk. That's all."

Alnar looked at Iney frowningly. Such a straightforward answer didn't offend him, but rather surprised and alarmed him. He had the feeling that he was once again in slavery to Said, but more... Perverted or something? As if he were an old incomprehensible book written in an even older incomprehensible language. It's already falling apart and cracking, but someone's insistent hands have gotten to it and are now studying it meticulously.

"Just talk?" asked Alnar incredulously.
"Just talk", replied Iney. But immediately added: "you might be prescribed some pills, but not that heavy."
"Bitter?"
"Probably."

Alnar sighed heavily.

"And then can I have another bun?"
"You can."