Snippet #2215891

The fever had started with one or two. Then, like vines, it crept to others, it's number exponentially growing. At first, it started with the older ones; those who were able to go out into the world, fare seas, and contract the virus. Then, it spread to the more innocent. The younger ones, whose immune systems weren't fully equipped to handle the overlooming threat of the sickness. When those affected had fell ill with headaches, fever, and flushed skin, it was of no doubt to any colonist that had traveled the lands that a wave of Velvet Fever had swept over Blakestown, and the frightening realization came with another; the colonists had no cure.

The streets grew bleak. Less children galloped across the stony pathways, more shops had been closed. Those who wandered amongst the streets kept their head down and their mouth covered, and bore such an unsurmountable expression of worry on their brows. It had become a dull, scary time for the once-flourishing city. Sickness bore no bias to caste or race, and if there was one thing that united the community, it was certainly that they were all effected by the fever one way or another.

The nurse's station had been overwhelmed with the sick. Those that were lucky enough to have isolated rooms were urged to keep their sickly there, and not to maintain contact with the unfortunate souls. It kept the same way for days upon days, with people coming and going, maintaining cautious stares and cautious distances. Some kept to wearing masks. Patsy certainly had. On the 4th, when a healthy Adrien Rune had come knocking on the door to the station. He was one of the busier boys, who kept themself to delivering wet rags, food, and water to those who couldn't make it themselves. One of the busier boys who preyed on luck not to contract the fever, and Adrien was surely pushing his luck.

His sleeves were rolled up, and his arms bore a definition that they hadn't only a few weeks back. His mouth was uncovered. In his hand, he held a bucket of water, which he dropped by the doorway. Sweat lined his brow. If that boy was going to contract the fever, by god, he would take it in stride.

"Patsy! How is it looking? I need a new rag for Radimus." He said, calling attention the already busy nurse.

She poked her head out from around the corner, her face wrapped in a damp cloth. "Y'know where the buckets are, lad. But listen, Adrien..."

She called him over to her, waving her thick hand and then grasping him by the shoulder firmly when he came close enough.

"Miss Rawls is sick here, and she hasn't stop talking about yeh since she came down with the fever. Now, you're gunna go tell her that all is forgiven, and let her have some rest, or I'm gunna beat it into yeh." She leveled a glare at him.

"Understand, lad?"

Adrien's chin wrinkled when Patsy took him by the shoulders. His eyes passed the large nurse, and laid on the door in the back. His chest heaved in a sigh. One that said that he'll do what he's told, but he might not like it. The boy sat down his supplies and moved past the nurse. "I'll do it." He said, in a half-grumble.

When he approached the door, though, he couldn't help but feel an uncomfortable welling in his chest. The symptoms had been all too familiar to him, and every time he'd seen them in another, a grainy picture of flushed cheeks and sick, green eyes came to the front of his mind. Of his mother, whose dainty ringlets had become worn from the many times she tossed and turned in her bed. It was vague, and his youth had caused her face to become nothing more than a blur in his own mind, but the image still resonated. He still recognized it.

So, he gave a knock on the infirmary door before cautiously entering in.

"Elleanore?" He asked.

An indistinct, but soft moan echoed from within the room. The sound of cloth shifting against cloth came to his ears, a voice finally making its way through the door.

"Adrien..."

She looked ill, her cheeks sunken, pale but flushed with the fever. Her hair was damp, curls flat from lying against the pillow, and she seemed to have a hard time holding still.

"I...I'm sorry."

"Hey," Adrien started. He jogged to where Ellie's bed had been, and knelt to it. For a moment, he seemed hesitant, but after seeing her condition, he took her hand in his own and held another over it. "Don't be sorry t'me."

He breathed. A loud, breathy sigh. "Don't be sorry at all. I was angry. Shouldn't be what you're thinking about right now."

A slight turn came to his mouth. It was forced, and there was certainly nothing to smile at, but if there was anything that was reassuring, it was that.

"Where's Cavis? How's he?"

"He worries." Her hand that gripped his was cold, and clammy. She swallowed thick, closing her eyes and taking a deep, shuddering breath. "Patsy says I'm very sick."

She hesitantly met his eyes again. "You'll forgive me, won't you Adrien? Please, I'm so sorry..."

A tear slipped down her cheek. "And I'm afraid."

"All's forgiven, Ellie. Don't go making your will yet, though. Patsy doesn't know anything about Velvet Fever. You shouldn't be afraid." Adrien said, convinced of his own words. His hand groomed hers as they spoke, and his chin sunk into the bedding that she'd laid on.

"M'mother. She's stuck it out all th'way until now. You don't worry about anything, Ellie."

She was still holding tight to his hand, her other one coming up to rest against her mouth. "You might get sick." she said softly, as if just realizing it, trying to withdraw her hand from him.

"Please, I don't want you to get sick. Check on my father and make sure he's alright? I don't want him to worry, and Xander..." she hesitated, her breathing shaky. "I don't want him to see me this way. Tell him I'm alright?"

Adrien let Elleanore withdraw her hand, but he didn't seem too worried about the sickness.

"Stop worrying about me, Elle. I'm just fine. You worry about you right now. I won't forgive you until you do that, hm?" He said, a slight smile coming to his face. It seemed out of place, what with tired eyes and a sweaty brow. "I'll check on Cavis, and Xander. I think Xander would like t'see you though. Talk to you. Make you feel a bit better, because love, you look like hell, and y'know the boy doesn't count on you for your looks."

"I'd even fetch him for you, if you'd let me. Cavis too, if you'd like."

She shook her head.

"Please, no. I just want to rest right now." She sighed, letting her eyes fall closed. "Thank you, Adrien. I just, I hope..."

But she'd drifted off to sleep before the rest of the words came.

"Okay, Ellie. Sorry." Adrien rasped. A guilt took over him. That he shouldn't have treated Ellie the way he had. That he shouldn't have even been hesitant when coming into her room. He bit his lip, and let his hands slack to his knees.

Patsy was standing at the door, watching the whole thing, and when she saw that Ellie had fallen asleep, she came forward to touch Adrien on the shoulder. "Lad," she breathed, calling his attention and making sure he turned to look at her.

"Listen, there's not much I can do for these people. We're wasting supplies trying teh keep fevers down, but no way to fight the illness itself. Yer not gunna hear it from yer father or Illiam, but we need help." she drilled her eyes into his.

"And I'm thinkin them tribals are the only ones who can, now."

"I don't know, Pats. What makes you think they've got a cure better than we do? I... mean. They helped me." He said, unsure of whether the nurse had heard of it or not. "But fixing a leg is mighty different than curing a plague."

"What else can we do?" Patsy asked, her voice soft.

"Least we can do is just ask. If not, then that's that, but if they do..." she sighed. "Well, I suppose we can jest hope they can forgive us for what's gone on."

"N'how do you suspect I get there? I'm not allowed to leave. You going to give me a waiver? Hell, I was trapped in Blakes because I was talking to the tribals. You don't think that'd upset my father and everyone else more?" Adrien questioned. His voice didn't carry a tone of spite, but rather of honest worry.

"As if that's caused you a problem before." Patsy said with a lifted brow. "The guards are sick, Adrien. If you go now, then you needn't worry for nuthin."

Adrien looked toward his palms, which kneaded together.

"I guess... I don't think anyone would try t'stop me. Radimus is sick as a dog. Should y'tell the villagers before I leave...?"

"You should go. I'll do the explainin while yer gone." Patsy said, patting his shoulder and guiding him towards the door.

"Quickly, b'fore yeh lose yer nerve, lad."

"Alright. I'll go. Wish me luck, Pat. I'll be checking on Xander when I get back, but Radimus still needs tending to, and I've not checked on Cavis." Adrien squeezed Patsy's wrist, before letting go.

"I'll be off, then." He repeated, before heading out the door.

The horse's stable wasn't far from there, and the streets were clean of people. At first, Adrien started off walking, before he'd ended up in a jog. When he finally found himself at the stables, the horses seemed distraught. They stamped in their places. Perhaps it was due to the absence of their owners, or the absence of those who rode them. He made his way toward a tempered, brown-maned beauty.

And that's when he mounted it. The path through the gates was one he hadn't taken in quite a while. The lone guard that stood at the door seemed fettered and bothered, and hadn't given a second glance to the exiting man on horseback. The horse carried him far and fast, perhaps a little too eager in itself to get out of the stables that held it. The two went kicking through the snow that laid a soft blanket on the ground, and the sogged dirt underneath. After they'd left the gates of Blakestown, Adrien and his steed carried quickly through the Forest of Whispers.

The weather was curious. It snowed lghtly, and forced him to keep his head down, though the branches that dangerously stuck out on his path had forced him to do the same anyhow. What little animal life that was there audibly skittered away at their presence in the woods, though never had those woods been as disturbed as the day the treaty had been cast down. That day was no exception.

Eventually, he'd come to the same entrance that Ajani had brought him when he was wounded, where he knew guards perched in the treetops and on the grounds.

That's where he stopped. To be greeted, and not to be taken as a threat. His eyes trailed upwards, then down, and he waited anxiously to be let in.

"You ride as if death chases you!" a voice called from the trees. One of the guards, and his tone was in good humor.

"Did a forest sprite frighten you, young man?"

His and another voice joined in the laughter, but it was a good signal for Adrien to continue.

Back at the village, everything was continuing as normal. Men and women took care of their households, and chiildren ran around, either helping their parents or playing with one another. At Adrien's arrival, more than a few lifted their hands in greeting, smiling to him, asking after his welfare.

Ajani was not anywhere to be found.

Adrien's worried glance toward the guards told a story that perhaps, death had been chasing him. He dismounted his horse and tied the beast to a tree, before running into the village. The happy faces of the children and the workings of the men and women only reminded him of the urgency of the situation. He nodded at those who waved at him, but nothing more.

And he made his way to where he'd been taken care of. The pathway was familiar to him. He ascended the small amount of steps and brushed away the fabric that obscured the medicine hut from the rest of the tribe. Then, he entered, and stared to the man inside with an expression unreadable.

"Our city is in trouble. Where is Ajani?"

The elderly man looked up from his work, his wrinkled brow knitting as he held up his weathered hand.

"In Consule, young man. Why the urgency?" His nose drew in deep, audible breaths, dry lips parting with wonder, as if he'd received his answer that way.

"The colonists are afflicted with illness?"

"Velvet Fever. It's sweeping over the town like a plague. We..." Adrien stopped to regain his breath. "We never had a cure. We were hoping you..."

He swallowed his words. After all the abuse from the colonists, he couldn't expect Ajani, or the medicine man, to want to help. Still, the expression on his face regaled a sort of universal anguish.

"We were hoping you would help us."

A somewhat peaceful smile came over the man's face, as if a revelation had occurred to him.

"I'm certain Ajani will be more than happy to speak with you. Fear not. Her heart has always been soft for you and your people." He rose from his seat. "Rest here, though. Take cleansing breaths."

The elderly man rose, and began to shuffle towards the door of the tent.

Adrien almost seemed bothered by the man's peaceful state. He stood up, and grasped for the fabric of the medicine man's shirt, to halt him in his steps. "Where is Ajani doing Consule?" He asked, though plea laced his syllables.

"I can't wait for this. I'm sorry."

The man staggered a bit, but he didn't seem bothered by Adrien's urgency. "To the north, there's a lake not far from here. She's at the edge of i-" The man was suddenly interrupted by the flurry of feet, which took the concerned boy through the Vanduo village. He passed the children and at a point, collided with a man, but it hadn't stopped him from reaching his destination. The thought that, if the tribals could help, and if they would help, had become increasingly overwhelming to him. The reminder that Ajani had been in charge only made matters more pressing.

So he passed through the village, and moved through the trees. It wasn't long before he'd found the lake, whose borders were surrounded by those ever-familiar imposing wooden goliaths.

There was a heaviness in the air, like a great weight was pressing upon his shoulders. It slowed his gait, caused him to pause in his steps as the lake became clear, extending like a black mirror to the distance shore.

Snow covered the ground, right to the bank, but the air had yet to cool enough to freeze the surface of the water. Yet, roughly fifteen feet off shore, a single figure stood on the surface of the water, like it was solid ground. Her back was to Adrien, silver-blonde hair hanging like a curtain down her back. Her hands were suppliant, palms facing the sky, and she was absolutely still.

Something like iron was clasped to her wrists, with a saphire stone set into the metal. They glowed faintly, with the same sort of aura that Motina emitted.

Something about the scene was enchantingly sacred. Even the snow sprites lay still.

Adrien was a stark contrast to such a peaceful place, even though when he'd entered, he seemed to quiet. He took in the serene sight, but the words rising in his chest were intent on interrupting it. His footsteps crunched leaves underfoot, and dispersed the eerie stillness that was ever-present by the frozen lake. "Ajani." He rasped, his voice filling the area.

"We need help."

"I know."

She turned her head sideways, looking off towards the east. Her eyes, from what he could see, were glowing the same, strange blue as the stones on her wrist. She closed them briefly, taking in a deep breath before turning to face him fully. Her steps were slow, but deliberate. When at last she reached the shore, her bare feet found the snow, and that strange glow faded.

With a heavy sigh, her shoulders relaxed, and she seemed to shrink before him, as if weary from the experience.

Hiding the tremble in her hand, she picked up the skirt of the white gown she wore, and ascended the bank towards him.

"How many are sick?"

"If we don't hurry - if you don't have a cure, then, everyone will be. I don't know, though. Th'streets are empty. My father... My wi - ... Elleanore. I haven't visited Xander, n'I haven't seen Cavis. Patsy's fine, but she's taking care of the sick. Can you?" Adrien asked, rather promptly.

"I thought Elleanore would be fine... My mother was fine, after getting th'fever. But she - Ellie - doesn't look good. Not at all. Patsy thinks she's dying. Radimus is sick as a dog. Others are staying in their homes, hoping it passes. I don't know what t'do, and by god, I hope you do." he continued.

She turned suddenly, reaching to take his face into her hands, before bringing it down and rather abruptly, but gently, brushing her lips against his forehead.

"Stop." she told him, sternly meeting his eyes before letting him go and turning to walk quickly up the rest of the hill. Leaving Adrien behind, she made her way back into the village, assembling those there with a sharp whistle.

"Brothers and sisters," she called, her voice keening above the din of the village. It silenced almost immediately. "Innocent people have become subject to vile illness, and they do not have the resources to take care of themselves. I'm asking every able woman and child to come with me to Blakestown to take care of their sick. The men will stay behind to guard Tribe Vanduo."

An uneasy murmur ran through the crowd.

"What of Motina?" Came a man's cry. Her eyes shifted to the one who had shouted.

"I would not have brought it to you without consulting her first." she answered honestly.

Eventually, Adrien had come up the hill as well. It had taken a long while, and his strides became steps, but he joined Ajani before realizing that he was subject to the stares of the entire village. A red tint highlighted his features.

He cleared his voice. "None of you will be hurt. Those with ill intent are too weak to do anything, and even those with strength wouldn't put the health of Blakestown at risk over a squabble with the tribes."

"A squabble is putting it mildly," someone retorted, not unkindly. Ajani reached back to gently grasp Adrien's hand.

"Motina has spoken to me, and she has never been wrong before. We are to help these colonists. I'm not forcing any of you to come with me, but I will go regardless of whomever else may come."

A quiet had stolen over the village as they gazed towards their leader.

"I'll go!" A little voice cried. Siska came forward, with three of his friends, and they were all dressed in the white of the healer's cloth. Siska rushed over to throw his arms about Adrien's waist.

"I'll go." A young woman came forward, no older than Ajani, and two more followed.

Not long after, seven women, and five children stood before her, each of them wearing the same smile of contentment that the Healer had worn. And it was he who came out finally, with a white cowl wrapped around his aged head.

"I wouldn't be true to my profession if I didn't extend a hand to all of Motina's children." he said, tossing Adrien a wink. Ajani looked to the young man.

"Motina provides." she breathed softly.

Adrien cautiously brought his hand to Siska's back, before rubbing it and offering an incredulous smile down to the youth. "Thank you. This means that you know how to treat it, right?"

His eyes suddenly came to Ajani again, his smile faltering a bit. Uncertainty came to the syllables of his voice, yet again. "I don't know that you have enough horses to carry this many people. I don't even know that you can cure our people. Blakestown is a large city, Ajani."

She shook her head, her expression unreadable, before she turned to the children, kneeling down to speak with them.

"You know what herbs we need, for the red illness. Go gather them quickly."

Nodding eagerly, the small gaggle of smiling children rushed off for the woods. The other women had already set about gathering supplies. Herbs, food, linens and other supplies were packed into leather satchels, before being carried over to the horses that awaited. Ajani merely oversaw everything, watching as the old Healer himself went back to his hut to get his things.

"We'll be able to help them." she reassured Adrien, looking to him after a little while. "Please trust that we can."

"How long will it take until you're ready?" asked Adrien, after he'd seen the children skitter off toward the woods and out of view. He had no problem looking to Ajani when he spoke again, and his features studied her own. "Tomorrow? Th'next?"

It wasn't a snide overstimation. It was a hopeful guess.

"Tonight." she said with a firm nod. "We'll walk through the night, on into the morning. You may ride ahead, if you wish, to speak of our coming." she searched his eyes.

Her own reflected a deep-seated worry, but not for the situation at hand. It was for something else entirely.

"Is that alright?"

"Fine." Adrien said. "Perfect. Thank you, Ajani. Thanks. I'm going to ride there, then. I'll keep you guys safe - if I don't, Patsy will. Promise. I'll keep this one."

He backtracked, and almost tripped, before giving Ajani a last glance and turning to find his place again, and the horse he'd mounted before. When he'd gotten to the beast, he quickly threw himself on, and headed back off into the forest.