It's sharp and tearing and fierce. 

Six more. 

She's already falling into the pain a little. It's not like the play she's done with the sparker. It's on a whole other level.

The strikes fall rhythmically on her back, one after another, blow after tearing blow. 

The pain only intensifies, until it blots out everything else.

By the seventh stroke the pillory is the only thing keeping her upright. 

The man holding the whip lays one last heavy stroke into her back, and then steps back.

Her lawyer comes forward and helps her out of the pillory.

She doesn't have the strength in her legs to stand: she falls to her knees and cries hot tears onto the ground in front of her. Her back burns like fire.

"Heal yourself," her lawyer nudges her gently.

Right. She can do that.

She reaches for her channel, and lets it pour out into the gathered crowd. The positive energy half-knits her back. 

Right, Sunaira gave her Cure Moderate Wounds. 

She heals herself again with the prepared spell. 

That fixes her. 

She straightens, wearing her ripped-up clothes, takes a deep breath, and steps down off the platform and walks for home.

The crowd parts for her.

Well fucking done.

She returns to her job. She has forty-two gold and a week to make rent. 

She isn't going to make it, she's pretty sure.

The next day, a man knocks on the door of her apartments.

If she goes to answer that, Weal or Woe?

Weal.

She answers her door. 

"What is it?"

"You can call me Pen. I work with an abolitionist newspaper out of Andoran." 

There's a bronze charm of a tankard hanging at his neck.

"I want to publicize your story. Are you willing to answer a few questions?"

"Why, yes. Please. Come in, sit down."

He smiles and joins her. There isn't any furniture, so they sit on the floor.

"So I've heard rumors about the Lady of the Blackberries. You say she instructed you to do this?"

"Not as such, expect perhaps by picking me instead of someone else..."

She explains the basic story, and what catechism she's been able to scrape together from her goddess' hints. 

Pen listens, and takes notes in shorthand. He gives her little nudges when she seems to be starting to freeze up.

The whole story comes pouring out of her. 

It helps. It's hard to talk about the whipping, or the time she spent in jail - how can she explain this eithout making her goddess sound like a freak? - but she manages. 

Eventually Pen sets down his pen and nods to her. 

"I'll see to it that your story is told," he says. "Best of luck to you."

"Thank you for your time," Kumi says automatically. 

She shoos him.

He goes.

Time to go to work, she supposes. 

She changes into her best remaining dress and goes.