When I open my eyes again, I'm back in my room, tucked up to my chin with the blankets Master Naga layered onto my bed when he realized I wouldn't ask even if I got cold.

Mia is sitting in the corner, patching a small tear in one of Marcus' shirts.

I watch her for a moment before wriggling out of the confines of the blankets. "Ah, what time is it?" I ask, swinging my legs gingerly over the side of the mattress.

It still feels strange, being on a raised bed. For the first week, I fell off almost every morning.

"Almost midday."

Her impersonal words are a comfort as I push to my feet, mind whirling as I think about all the chores I have to make up.

There's sweeping and washing the floor, polishing the carvings and statues, dusting the arches, changing the sheets of Master Naga's bed- he shouldn't have to sleep on old sheets when he returns home- I slip past Mia, ignoring the pointed look she sends toward me as she takes in the grimace on my face when my head zings with pain from the transportation.

Having a role makes me comfortable, and that comfort far outweighs any physical discomfort I may be feeling.

I'm at the well almost before I realize it, instincts hauling a bucket of cold spring water from the depths without any need for thought. I fill two large basins and hook them onto the rod leaned against the well's peak. Hefting the load onto my shoulder, I march toward the temple.

I can only imagine the dust that will be there after almost a week without cleaning.

There isn't much breeze through the temple, and though it's cold now, the air is still heavy with a humidity that makes it all the more difficult to scrub off the mildew-like dust.