Storydoodle. :)
Just a quickie, but I hope you can enjoy.
Warning for strong language.
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Songbird Fever
"Fuck off!" The Tempest slurred as he pushed Arietta away. "What's wrong? Are you sick? I can tell, you know." She retaliated and moved closer again. She could see her comrade blushing an unhealthy shade of violet. Syncs headache was becoming increasingly hard to ignore. He held his head and groaned, ignored the girl in front of him, and made his way up the cathedral staircase.
She turned and shouted at him again, "You've only just came back from your mission at mount Zaleho, and this is how you treat the one who greets you?!" Her eyes became watery. Sync almost felt a little sorry for her, but he couldn't bring himself to move any faster to avoid the situation. A blur ate at the edges of his vision.
"Gloomietta, you know I hate that place. Plus, I'm tired..."
Her eyes widened a little at the Tempests exhausted tone. She couldn't see his eyes behind that mask, bus something was wrong. About the volcano she knew little. The only thing he ever told her about the volcano was that he was left to die there once.
Arietta couldn't shake the feeling that everyone was keeping something from her. 'I suppose there's no way I could understand…'
While she was in thought, he had begun to move again, up the final steps, toward his room.
"Wait!"
Click.
She was too late, the door was shut.
'I'd better let Van know.'
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Sync stumbled into his room and shut the door as fast as he could. Thank Lorelei he got away from that conversation. Van would kill him if he spilled too much info on his birth. "Fuck…" He felt very, very sick. Maybe he'd caught something on his mission.
The Tempests head throbbed and spun. He slowly stripped himself of everything but his shorts and, very carefully, slid onto his bed, placing his mask onto the bed side table. He would have let himself drop into it if it weren't for the headache.
Sprawled on top of his covers, he stared blankly at the ceiling. He hadn't felt this hot since his days in the volcano when he was thrown away. 'Trash…'
Sync smiled humorlessly at the memory and turned onto his stomach to sleep. The light streaming in from the window wasn't helping at all.
It stung.
Several long, sleepless hours in silence trudged past. Suddenly, he heard a knock on the door. "Sync, can I come in?" It was the familiar voice of Legretta the Quick. The Tempest raised his head a little to tell her to fuck off, when his lungs performed some sort of sick stunt, and he gasped once, twice, three times before it all settled. He withered with exhaustion and pain and relaxed against his mattress.
"Sync, I'm coming in." The click of a door.
'Shit…' He didn't want to be seen like this. Especially not by a woman. Sync buried his face in his pillow as Legretta stepped into his room. She located a chair and pulled it over next to the bed.
"Van sent me to check on you. Arietta thought you were sick. Did anything happen on your mission?"
He shook his head in a 'no'. She sounded concerned. It disgusted him.
"Alright. How do you feel?" Legretta spoke a little more softly after he winced at her loud voice. Sync blinked a few times before mouthing the word, "Shit."
"Can you turn around?"
He inhaled and obeyed. There was no point in hiding anything now. The Tempest squirmed onto his back. Legretta's expression darkened and she brushed the young General's bangs out of his face and gently placed her hand onto his forehead.
He shut his eyes. After several seconds of silence, she removed her hand, frowning, and dug through a bag on her lap. Sync watched with dull, tired eyes. The normal shade of piercing emerald had been reduced to a muddy grass.
Legretta brought forth a fonic thermometer and promptly shoved it into the Tempests mouth. He gagged until it was repositioned more comfortably, not halfway down his throat. "Dammit be careful, woman…" He cursed under his breath and let his eyes slide shut once more.
She could only smile. So this is what Sync the Tempest is reduced to? Pitiful. Normally, he would have socked her in the face. Or at least tried. Seconds ticked by, and while waiting for the temperature result of the thermometer, she examined the boy in front of her. For the first time, she too noticed the suffocated colour in his face. But what Arietta couldn't have noticed, was that it was even worse around the Fonic Glyph engraved in his chest. She frowned.
This wasn't an ordinary illness.
'Alright, just a couple of minutes until I've got to report back.'
BEEP
Legretta's attention snapped back to the thermometer. Syncs eyes were shut, and he was almost motionless. 'Asleep already?' She thought to herself and pulled the machine out of her comrades mouth. After pressing several buttons, scrolling through all sort of results (finding out that he wasn't under the influence of monster poison), her eyes widened in composed shock.
43°C/109°f.
Loosing her calm a little she turned to look at Sync, who still hand't moved.
"Sync."
Legretta wanted to show him the results. He didn't stir.
"Sync?"
She repeated herself, louder this time. Still nothing. She got up, very worried by now.
"Sync, are you awake?"
Legretta held him by the shoulder and shook him gently, to no avail.
'Shit...'
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"Ah, Legretta. Come in."
Van welcomed her as she stepped into the conference room. Her eyes shifted from face to face as she realized that Largo, Arietta, Ash, Van and a Seventh Fonist were all here.
"Why did everyone come?" Legretta asked as the took her place at a large table. Van smiled a little,
"Sync has some missions tomorrow, and since his condition isn't at its peak, I'll be handing them to you guys."
Ash smirked sarcastically 'He said that while smiling...' After a few seconds of awkward silence, Van continued,
"How is he?"
Legretta's expression darkened a little.
"Not good at all. He can barely speak, let alone walk. He's quite pale and has a 43 degree fever. Actually, he passed out a few minutes ago. I've put something on his head to cool him down, but It is still rather worrying."
The comical atmosphere in the room clouded and silenced. The seventh Fonist was the first to reply, "You say pale?"
"Yes. He's got a sort of suffocated purple look to him."
More silence. The Fonist turned to Van, concern in his eyes. "Is Sync capable of using the Seventh Fonon?"
The question caught everyone a little off guard, and Van answered reluctantly,
"Well, yes. Yes." The Fonist's frown deepened, but Van finished his surprised statement
"He is inscribed with a Fonic Glyph that allows him to."
The Fonist thought for a minute and nodded before turning to Legretta, "Did you get to see the Glyph?"
"Yes. The violet was strongest there."
Silence.
"I'll take a look at him."
Spoke the Fonist as he rose from his chair.
"So you have an idea." Van raised an eyebrow.
"It's too early to say yet. I'll report back in 10 minutes."
He left the room. They all sat in silence for a few minutes. Van didn't speak. He wanted what had just happened to sink in a bit. Then at last, he opened a new conversation with three folders, which he brought up from under the table.
"NOW.
He began, grinning from ear to ear.
"Missions!"
Ash groaned.
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Click.
The door of the conference room opened once more and the Seventh Fonist strode into the room, concern written all over his features. The Generals, who had been sitting in silence, looked up from their new mission files.
"And?" Largo started carefully as the Fonist took his place.
"Yes. It looks like he's caught himself a bad Songbird Fever."
Everyone shared questioning looks before turning back to him, wordlessly urging him to continue. "Songbird Fever is caused by the immune reaction to a microbe which feeds on the Seventh Fonon."
Van became very curious now. "Feeds?" He eyed the Fonist intensely, causing him to shrink back a little. "Y-Yes. What we usually do is wait until all the seventh Fonons in the body of the patient have been devoured, and the microbes die. It needs warmth and moisture to survive outside of the body, and it is very sensitive to pollution. That's why it is very rare nowadays. The geysers at mount Zaleho must be one of the few places where they can still thrive."
Van thought for a seconds before speaking, "Alright."
His expression darkened profoundly. Everyone could sense something was wrong.
"Is there an alternative treatment?" Vans voice was quiet.
"Well," The Fonist spoke very carefully now, noticing the change in atmosphere,
"One can delay the progression of the illness with seventh Fonon infusion… "
Van seemed to relax a little now.
"And one can kill the microbes with a powerful current of the Fifth Fonon… but I can not recomend this treatment. You see, 30% of the time it cleanses the body of the microbe, but 70% of the time, it results in the death of the patient. It depends greatly on the stability of their Fonslots and the strength of their body. Sync the Tempest is rather young and lean built. The risk would be very high."
Silence.
"Thank you. You and Arietta are dismissed." The Wild one looked rather surprised and disappointed, yet obeyed and left the room along with the Fonist.
"What's this all about?" Ash began, irritated yet curious all the same.
"Yes, is there a problem, commandant?" Legretta inquired. Van cursed to himself, "Sync is a replica." He began, Ash crumpled his face into a frown.
"He is composed of the seventh Fonon. Once this illness has eaten 50% of his Seventh Fonons, the rest will that hold his cells together will dissipate and Sync will die."
His blunt words shattered something in the room: the thin barrier between suspense and despair. Wide eyes stared in silence.
"We'll take the chance of the Fifth Fonon treatment."
He finished his point, stood up from his chair and exited the room, slamming the door. What few realize is that Sync is more of a son to Van than anyone has ever been.