(Scars do not appear to be cause of death –shock ... - Bad Request

Two steaming bowls of stewed offal later, we were headed to Mebbeth's to
hopefully complete my training.
When I returned to the hut, Mebbeth was tugging at the mass of
greenish-lime starched rags I had brought from Giscorl... she seemed to be
purposely fraying the edges, as if to peel them apart somehow. When she
heard me approach, she turned. "Aye, child?"
"Here's that ink you wanted."
Mebbeth took the tankard of ink from me, then sniffed it. "Prime ink, fresh
it is, aye..." She nodded at me. "Ye've done well, child. All I've asked. Now, I
ask ye again: after all ye've seen, do ye still want to learn the art?"
I smirked knowingly, "Yes. After all, the guiding goal of your errands was to
test my persistence, was it not?"
Mebbeth smiled, then nodded. "Yes... mayhap, child, mayhap."
"And that's not all; you knew who I had to see to accomplish each errand,
didn't you?"
Mebbeth nodded again, slower this time. "Mayhap, child, mayhap... iffen so,
what did yer senses tell ye about them?"
I ticked off the points on my fingers, "Mourns-for-Trees showed me that my
beliefs affect the world around me, Giscorl taught me that ritual is a wasted
effort if the purpose of the ritual is ignored, Meir'am taught me that no
matter how much I think I know, there is still much I can learn from
another's eyes."
Mebbeth was silent for a moment, then she walked slowly over to me and
touched me tenderly on the cheek. "Oh, child..." She sighed. "Ye will be a
master sorcerer one day, ye will. Ye have the knowin' of it, yet... ye've come
to Ol' Mebbeth for help, ye have. What could a midwife teach such a one?"
My hand was warm and gentle against her shoulder, "Much, Mebbeth. I
want to learn all you have to teach."
"So ye'll walk the path then..." Mebbeth paused. "Well, first things firstly:
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