Well, here I am with a relatively quick update! I hope ya all like it! :)

Disclaimer: Would I be writing Fanfictions if I owned Jane and the Dragon?

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Jane's head is pounding, the blood rushing wildly about inside her and making her heart pound far more than it needs to. She raises a hand to her sweating brow and bites her lip to keep herself from screaming as loud as she possibly can; the action only causes some of that frenzied blood to spurt from her chapped lip.

"Why is this happening to me?" Jane mutters to herself, collapsing onto her mattress with a quiet sigh. "Everything was going fine, this day was never meant to end like this."

She rolls over onto her stomach, letting her red curls drape themselves over her shoulders in a fiery curtain as she digs her head into the crumpled blankets of her bed. "And I should be down there, helping Dragon! Night should not be a barrier, especially not now!"

Her teeth clench angrily as she furiously recalls the events leading up to this moment.

~Begin flashback~

"Sir Theodore?" Jane calls quietly, peering around the doorframe and scanning the empty room for her mentor.

He isn't there, but he left his window open; papers are scattering about in the breeze, the aged parchment fluttering like little birds. The squire sighs a
little at the disarray, stooping to snatch up the papers and returning them to the desk as she attempts to close the window and prevent any further mess.

But when she dumps the papers on the wood and reaches out to grasp the windowsill, a loud wail interrupts her and she freezes mid-pull.

"Dragon?" She calls in confusion, leaning out the window and staring down at the seemingly empty yard. "What's going on?"

Her words are met with another loud, pained wail, and Jane feels her heart begin to race; she knows Dragon better than anyone ever could, knows every sound he lets out of his mouth, every expression he can make (and there are a lot). And she doesn't like the sound of this one.

"Dragon, what's wrong?" the squire shouts fearfully, and without waiting for a reply races out of Sir Theodore's quarters and out along the stone corridor in an effort to get down to the practice yard as quickly as possible. I bet he is just playing around, she tells herself between pants, I mean he likes his little jokes, and this is one of them. Isn't it?

With a gasp for air, Jane rushes through the crowded stables and out into the practice yard, her hair frizzy and whipping about her in a wild frenzy as she scans the area for her large green friend.

There! He's curled up into a tight ball, obscured by the shadows of the far stone wall. And he doesn't look like he's playing around.

"Dragon? Dragon, are you all right?" Jane asks worriedly, her pace quickening as she nears the beast. Where is everyone? She thinks fearfully, unnerved by the otherwise silent castle, they should have tried to contact me! If they even knew…

Dragon raises his great head, previously hidden behind his wing, and meets Jane's gaze just as she reaches out to stroke his nose.

"Hello, Short-Life," he says fondly, "I was wondering where you went."

Jane smiles weakly in an effort to hide her anxiety, and rests a hand on his scaly head; a moment later she jerks her hand away.

"You are burning up! What did you eat?" She questions immediately, and her hands almost unconsciously reach out again to stroke her friend's snout. "Is it Curly Tail?"

Dragon blinks sleepily at her, "Huh?" he asks. Then, as if he just realized she was expecting an answer, "No, not that. Curly Tail felt different, more like a small sickness, not something to really get excited about –although you certainly did, just like you are now." He chuckles, attempting to lift his head, but suddenly collapses in a fit of heavy, dangerous-sounding coughs. Blood spatters the dusty earth.

Jane leaps to her feet. "SMITHY!" She yells, as loudly as she can without reaching a pitch of hysteria.

No one answers.

Frantically, the squire takes a few steps away from Dragon, calling for the stableboy once more with her hands cupped around her mouth.

Again, silence.

"Dragon, where is Smithy?" she practically wails, turning back to her friend expectantly as his coughing fit subsides. He wipes a large paw over his mouth, the scales coming away bright red, and blinks at her groggily. Jane notices with a jolt that his eyes have gone a terrible shade of yellow.

"The Market," he wheezes at her, choking a little but attempting a smile, "your King let them all off early, since it is the first day in a long time that he has had so many merchants come for that annual Market-thing you Short-Lives can't wait to blow all your earnings on. He needs the money."

Jane feels her eyes widen in understanding, but the emotion is soon replaced by the constant racing of her heart and the rushing of the blood in her head.

"Why did they leave you if you were so ill?" She questions angrily. Dragon rolls his discolored eyes.

"Jane, you get so fired up about the silliest things. I am fine, just a little under the weather-"

"That is not what I asked you."

"Good heavens, you really cannot see that I-"

"Dragon!"

"They left me here simply because I was fine at the time, all right? Satisfied?" The large creature sniffs haughtily, stopping mid-sniff to choke a little.

Jane nods slowly, "So how long have you been feeling like this, Dragon?" she asks suspiciously.

Dragon shivers, although the day is unnaturally warm, "It has been a progressing feeling. I started the day out just a little sleepier than usual, but you had already left to go patrol the Market, so you did not see anything. Then, as it approached midday, I started feeling more and more sluggish. Then I felt terrible, but being the strong, handsome creature that I am, I kept it to myself and did not say a word when your other Short-Life friends were dismissed for the day. I've been here since, sleeping." He yawns unconvincingly. "I think I shall have a little rest right now, come to mention it…"

Jane stops him, her hand brushing his nose lightly to get his attention. " As if!" She says with a sharp laugh, "No rest until we get down your symptoms and I can speak with Smithy and Sir Theodore."

Dragon moans.

O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O

"Well? What do you think?" Jane asks, nervously shifting her gaze from the sick dragon to Smithy and back again. "Do you know what it is?"

Her friend shakes his head thoughtfully. "I am not a trained Dragon healer, as you are well aware," he replies slowly, "None of the horses have symptoms that even come close to Dragon's all at the same time." Jane nods silently.

"You said he complained of both chest and stomach pains, coughing up blood, and fuzzy eyesight. But you also told me his eyes are yellowed, his tongue almost white, and he refused to move at all because he claimed he could not feel his limbs. And I have not the faintest idea of what could be causing it. I am most sorry, Jane. Mayhap you could speak with Sir Theodore? He has all those books of Dragon Lore, after all." Smithy pats her shoulder kindly.

"Where is Sir Theodore?" She wonders aloud, turning to her friend with an inquisitive look. "He was not in his quarters when I checked a few minutes ago…"

Smithy gives her a gentle smile. "He should be there now," he says, "I saw him head for the stables to check on his horse when we first got back, but by now he must be in his rooms."

Jane nods at him, and after a hasty, "Look after Dragon, will you please?" trots off towards the knight's quarters in search of her mentor.

He has indeed returned to his rooms, and is sitting hunched over his papers when Jane peers into the area.

"Ah, Sir?" the squire calls softly, stepping forward and dipping her head in respect even though he has yet to turn around. "I was wondering, if maybe you had a mo-"

"Dragon's sudden illness brings you here, does it not?" interrupts Sir Theodore, looking over his shoulder to meets Jane's worried gaze. She blinks, surprised for a second, then lapses back into her nervous state; she shifts from foot to foot as she speaks.

"Of course it does, Sir," she replies, dipping her head again, "I am most concerned about him. Do you have any idea what is wrong?"

Sir Theodore turns around fully in his chair now, his eyes solemn and hard.

"Yes, I know what is wrong with Dragon." His voice is quiet, and Jane feels her heart begin to beat even faster than it already is at his tone.

"Then, sir, w-what is it?"

Sir Theodore places his hands on the paper-littered desk and raises himself up, until he reaches his full height and has been silent long enough for Jane to feel little bolts of fear spiking through her body.

"It is a disease I have only read about," her mentor begins, walking purposefully over to his bed and reaching for a thick volume lying on the covers. "Apparently it was supposed to have died out long ago, so as a result there is very little remaining information about it that is still legible." He blows a little dust off of the book.

"What Dragon has is an ancient form of it called the Night Curse, as far as I can find, what with all his symptoms."

Jane tugs at her hair. "And, exactly how deadly is this plague, Sir?"

She decides not to ask why Sir Theodore went through all the trouble of searching for information when she has yet to mention it to anyone. For a moment, Sir Theodore is silent as he flips through the yellowed, worn pages of his dusty book. Then:

"Jane." Her mentor's voice is still calm as he walks over to where she stands and offers the open volume to his squire, "This is a rather serious illness that Dragon has acquired in one way or another, and were it not limited to animals I would have him quarantined. I am afraid to say that it is fatal."

Jane feels her breath catch as she takes the book from the senior knight. Her world spins just a little, and suddenly the room is somewhat smaller than before.

"I-I see," she chokes out, not quite believing her ears as she glances down at the musty pages in front of her; they smell of cabbages, oddly enough.

"Read this when you get a chance, Jane," Sir Theodore says with a wave towards the book. "It will help you understand what is wrong and what will happen as the disease progresses."

Jane nods, her eyes staring blankly at the pages without seeing them at all; Sir Theodore's kind dismissal is muted and far away, and she only vaguely understands that now that she has her information she is to leave and let Dragon rest on his own for a while –it is the best thing for him at the moment.

So she leaves, wandering silently to her room and only allowing any emotion to show once she has closed the door to her room and has collapsed onto her bed with a muffled sob.

~End Flashback~

Jane raises her head from the blankets (now reeking of cabbages), and stares furiously at the thick, smelly book inches from her nose. The page with the Night Curse's information on it has been bookmarked with a pale green strip of silk, and despite her fury at everything and her overwhelming fear for her best friend Jane sticks a tentative finger under the ribbon and lifts the top papers up so as to see the bookmarked page.

The first words that catch her eye is enough to make her sit up and lift the book onto her lap.

Dragon Guardians.

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Dang, this one's long! I hope to add more exciting stuff later on –should I up the rating just in case? Please let me know! :D

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