A Boy's ClinicThere are no hours under the earth. The Priestesses of the Temple of the Weaver keep star-charts and long counts to mark the cycles and keep the year in holy observance. The Great Houses, direct descendants of the first dark elves, are said to deploy astrologers to the overland to keep track of their auspiciousness and help them further their greatness by choosing auspicious times to do their auspicious things. But down in the lower levels of the city, there are no hours, only the lingual memory of them from a time long gone when the elthelir lived under the sky. Certainly time may be counted, but no one does so beyond their own needs. A day is nothing more than the time it takes for an individual to feel the need to take their rest. Fortunately the messenger called upon the physician when she had already gotten her rest. It was a far walk to travel under-slept, and while the passage of time might be vague to others, it pressed crucially on the mind of a physician.Ishrasse had been gi
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