"Your clothes are waiting for you over there," I said, pointing to a carved trunk, on which was draped the robe Maerad had worn the night before. I stood up a little awkwardly – she didn't want me in the room, but sometimes I found myself forgetting our relationship, and thinking of it as something I knew it wasn't. "I'll put this book away now. If you like, I'll come back after you're dressed and show you around the School. If you're hungry, we'll go to the kitchens and see what they have for a late afternoon snack. Would that suit you?" Whatever you want, I'll go with you, I thought before I could stop myself.

Maerad nodded, and I left the room. As I stood waiting outside for her, I heard her lyre, and smiled. That would have been what I would have done. Music is my home, I had told Maerad once. It was quite true.

After a few minutes I knocked on the door, but she didn't answer so I knocked again. Still no answer. Was there something wrong? The third time I knocked I entered as well, calling Maerad's name. I saw her doubled-over on the floor, sobbing, and I could see blood all over the floor around her. What the hell had happened? I ran over, lifting her gently in my arms and putting her on her bed.

"What's the matter?" I asked.

"I…I don't know," she replied in a strained voice which came in fits and starts, "It hurts so much. I'm bleeding, and it hurts." A sudden thought crossed my mind as she gasped in pain.

"Bleeding?" I said sharply, "Where?"

"There's blood down my legs. I don't remember being hurt…" Maerad gasped again and grasped my hand so firmly my fingers went white. I felt a sudden strange sensation like my heart and my stomach had done a synchronised summersault. I looked at her pale sweating face and felt her temperature. Both confirmed my suspicions.

"Maerad, tell me," I implored, "Has this happened to you before?"

She shook her head. Oh, by the Light, I thought, not her first time?! Surely?! And it's me who has to deal with it. What do I know about it? My eyes dropped from her gaze in embarrassment, and I felt the blood creeping to my face. I gathered up my courage. It created a long pause.

"I think it's the menarche," I told her, "Do you know what that is?" She shook her head again. Could it GET any worse? She doesn't even know what it is! Help me, someone. "I should get Silvia." I said – someone to pass the buck to, I thought guiltily. Maerad squeezed my hand tighter in panic, and I sat next to her not knowing what to do. At that moment I would have gladly faced a dozen wers rather than a girl having her first period.

"Am I going to die?" whispered Maerad, terror naked in her voice. "I'm cursed, aren't I?"

Oh, poor Maerad. Poor, darling Maerad. I took a deep breath, "No, you're not going to die, nor are you cursed. It is a thing that happens to women, all women. It's a bit late for you, that's all. It doesn't mean you're sick."

"Then why does it hurt so much?"

"I don't know, Maerad. It does sometimes." Should it really be me explaining this? "I should find Silvia." I could feel the bones in my hand grinding together.

"Don't leave me!" she cried, fear in her eyes. They begged me to stay with her. I couldn't go now. I had to wait.

I sighed. "I'll wait a little while." I loosened her hand off mine, and Maerad grabbed my forearm instead. I summoned all my patience, and waited. It felt like forever, but it can't have been long, until Maerad straightened up. "It's going, I think," she whispered unsteadily. She seemed to realise she was holding my arm so tight that her nails dug into my flesh, and let go.

"You'll be alright," I reassured her. There was a short silence, and I stood up. "I should call Silvia now. She'll know what to do." Maerad nodded, and I ran from the chamber.