Master Arwyl was used to getting woken up in the middle of the night. More often than not, he was needed in Medica to urgently take care of a patient. As a consequence, he was a light sleeper, waking to the faintest knocks on the door, even to footsteps outside on the corridor. It was always a relief when, opening the door, not one of his gillers stood there, pale-faced and urgency in their voices. On nights when nothing happened, he woke anyways, at least once, just out of habit.
Herma was a frequent visitor as well. His illness, tho not life threatening, required constant treatment. Most people wouldn't even have noticed he was sick and Arwyl saw that as a good sign.
Herma always came before his bedtime. It was their agreement to never meet in the Medica, in order to not get any gossips started. Stability was important. If things turned sour, they would have reason to worry, but so far it was under control. Arwyl examined him once every span and supplied him with medicine. Then they had a nightcap together. Sweet cider, more for the sake of ritual. Arwyl needed a clear head all the time and Herma's medication didn't mix well with strong alcoholic beverages.
Elodin's visits were less regular. He was the only other master Arwyl treated outside Medica. Tho it was not for the sake of secrecy. It was a matter of security. Elodin was dangerous. Awake and conscious, he was in control, but feverish and delirious, he could destroy the whole building. Arwyl had permission to transport him back to Haven if things were looking bad. Elodin himself agreed to it, for the safety of the others. He might have been one marble short of completely sane, but he was not unreasonable.
In the Master's Hall, Elodin had a room at the far end of the building, with Arwyl as his only neighbor. He had to switch rooms with Kilvin to end up there. Not that there was any chance he could go back to the chancellor's rooms. As far as Arwyl knew, Elodin was not interested in being chancellor again, which was good news, all things considered. He was a quiet enough neighbor. He came and went at strange times, but he seldom made any noise. Sometimes, he had nightmares. Sometimes, Arwyl could hear him and Elxa Dal through the thin walls. They both chose to not have soundproofing wards. Arwyl needed to be reachable all the time, and Elodin hated the lack of noise since his stay at Haven. All in all, he was a better neighbor than Kilvin, who snore loudly. Or Hemme, for that matter.
Arwyl had always liked Elodin. Despite the fact that his studies in medicine were short-lived. He signed up like all the new students who were hell bent on studying everything. Most of them left because they couldn't handle the burden of so many subjects. Elodin left because Arwyl was adamant on how many terms it would take as a minimum to advance in ranks in the Medica. He didn't fault him for that. Elodin burned with a fire that was unstoppable. Medica would have just kept him back. Still, having adequate experience was crucial for identifying illnesses, and Arwyl wouldn't bend his rules, not even for a genius.
He simply had a thing for wayward youngsters. He would have loved to have kids of his own, but running the Medica needed all his time and attention. A family would have just suffered from it. The students were his children, grown ups and underage alike. He treated their cuts and burns, cured the majority of them of the occasional pneumonia, lost a few to binder's chill and freak accidents. It hurt more when he lost them too young. He was adamant on not losing Kvothe. Just the same as he didn't lose Elodin.
Kvothe was a lot like a young Elodin. Except that he had already learned that life was hard and he was always ready for a fight. He came to the university self-secure and street-smart. He kept impressing Arwyl with how clever and gutsy he was. Tho he couldn't help noticing that he was singularly pursuing interests he was naturally good at. He was sure Kvothe knew struggle, but he seemed to prefer the easiest path to avoid it as much as possible. Arwyl once told him that he hadn't forgotten boys were not innocent and even men could be cruel. If Kvothe had heard from Manet what he was referring to, he didn't know. He was glad to see the boy had friends, even if he had no family left. That Manet was one of them was even better. Thirty years at the University let you see and hear all sort of things. He hoped Manet would be the compass to him that they all failed to be for Elodin. They did everything they could. But a master who answers all your questions is not a friend who helps you through all your troubles. Elodin was their student, they weren't allowed to have any other kind of relation with him. Arwyl was especially bothered by this. When fourteen year old Elodin was brought to the University by a loving and doting mother, who sheltered her brilliant son from as much of the world's cruelty as she could, she probably thought she left him in good hands. She couldn't have known that she left him for the wolves. Elodin loved her too much to break her heart with the truth. That young men with high hopes didn't take kindly to a boy who was way smarter than them. That people who couldn't match your wits, more often than not used their fists to even out the odds. That even a master was not above such a thing when clashing with a razor sharp mind.
Elodin visited less often than he should have. He let his injuries go untreated as long as he could ignore the pain or the discomfort. He avoided getting his illnesses checked out as long as he could stand and walk around with them. And he absolutely refused even to hear him mention a non-physical injury. Arwyl didn't believe, not for a second, that he was mad. He had seen madness, and while each case was unique, Elodin just didn't check out as one. He would have loved to talk to him about his mind, his thought processes, to be able to determine what really was going on. Elodin firmly refused. Still, it didn't stop fascinating him. Talented namers were often perceived as eccentric and weird, some even went completely mad. It couldn't be avoided. As you opened up your mind to a new world, an altered concept of reality, your view of yourself changed with it. Arwyl wondered sometimes how fine the line between madness and sanity was. But he was sure Elodin hadn't passed it. They let the gossip circulate about him going mad and ending up in Haven, only because the truth was worse. Arwyl shuddered even at the thought of it.
That night, he came. Arwyl expected him. It was the kind of night that made him uneasy. The moon was hidden behind unmoving clouds, the air heavy and stale and cracking the window open only made it worse.
Elodin was wearing his best robe. It was a rich, heavy material, probably chosen because it was the warmest. Arwyl saw right away that he had a fever. His eyes were way too shiny, his cheeks flushed and he was wearing too many clothes for a warm night.
Arwyl put a hand on his forehead, brushing away stray strands of tousled hair. His skin felt clammy and hot, and he didn't like the color of his lips. Nor the shape of his pupils for that matter. It was definitely not just a cold. Elodin shuddered and stumbled. Arwyl steadied him. He gently guided him towards the bed and sat him down. Elodin's Adam's apple moved as if he was trying to speak, but couldn't.
Arwyl gave him some water.
"Can you speak, son?" he asked.
"Yes, Master Arwyl." Elodin's voice was coarse and somehow weak. At least he was able to use it. He took another sip of water. After that, Arwyl pulled the glass from his lips and gently pried it from his fingers.
"Don't drink more until we figured out what's wrong with you" he said. He put down the glass on his nightstand, then lifted Elodin's chin to examine his face. All the tell-tale signs were there. But who would do that to Elodin?
"Let's get you out of these robe so I can examine you" he said, letting go of Elodin's face. He helped him take off his robe, pulling it over his head, then set it aside. Elodin was naked under it, of course. His skin was pink where the robe touched it. The material was coarse, not intended to wear over bare skin. Still, it shouldn't have irritated him this much.
Arwyl put a hand on Elodin's chest, feeling his erratic, shallow heartbeats. He listened to his breathing, then looked him all over, searching for fresh cuts, infected scars, any physical signs of injury.
"When did it start?"
"I was feeling weak already this evening. The fever started only a few hours ago" Elodin replied.
Arwyl nodded. He noticed that Elodin looked out of spirits over dinner already. He was barely touching the food. He tended to be distant sometimes, ignoring all the other masters when he didn't feel like having a conversation. He showed up anyway most of the time, just like the majority of them who didn't have anything else planned. Having dinner together was not compulsory, but dinner was served for all the masters who were there in time to eat it, and it was convenient enough to just eat with the others.
He should have asked Elodin back then if he was feeling all right, but he was deep in conversation with Mandrag over a new substance they were planning to test out as cast for broken bones. It was only the five of them that night. Hemme and Brandeur were in Imre. Lorren travelled to Tarbean earlier that day and Herma was still in his office, poring over a translation. Kilvin and Elxa Dal were also talking, and Arwyl caught Kvothe's name in their exchange. Elodin used his knife to individually pick out the beans from his soup and line them up in patterns on his slice of white bread. He sometimes stabbed his fork into a piece of potato and nibbled on it. It wasn't unusual, apart from the fact that he was barely eating and he looked completely solemn, which was not a normal state of mind with him.
Arwyl sighed. What was done, was done. He pulled out a fine woven blanket from one his drawers and draped it over Elodin.
"This is pure linen, it shouldn't give you any trouble" he said. Elodin huddled under it.
Arwyl pulled up a chair and sat in front of him. He took one of Elodin's arms, examined the veins then held two fingers over his wrists.
"How do you feel?" he asked.
"Faint. Dizzy. Cold."
"Is your mind clear or do you feel confused?"
Elodin seemed to be weighing his answer.
"It is hard to keep it clear. It wants me to slip" he said finally.
Arwyl became worried. The mind of a namer was delicate, but they had a kind of control other people didn't. If Elodin was struggling to keep himself in check... he had to find out quickly what was going on.
"Are you still walking around barefoot?"
"It's not that cold yet" Elodin replied.
"Have you injured your foot? A cut, a bite, stepped into something? A pain or swelling you ignored?"
Elodin shook his head.
"Have you been to the Fishery recently?"
"Not since the accident."
Arwyl nodded. Elodin was not at the University when the bone-tar exploded, but he insisted on helping with the clean up and the repairs once he heard what happened. Kilvin grumbled that he wanted his good for nothing giller to scrub the floors and mend the piping with his bare hands, but Arwyl knew he appreciated Elodin's help. And that he would throw him out straight away if he set foot in the Fishery without his shoes. Elodin nearly died inside there once, after all.
At least he could rule out injuries and smelter's flu. He didn't like the next question he had to ask, not one bit.
"Have you slept with anyone?"
"I can say with reasonable assurance that you heard when I did" Elodin said matter of factly. Arwyl smiled briefly at that. He did hear it, he happened to be inside his room all of that night.
"Outside the Master's Hall?"
"No" Elodin spat. The tone suggested the question offended him.
Arwyl knew he had every right to take offense. Still, he needed to be sure. Elodin was no longer an affection starved boy, but the possibility was there. Even tho it was fifteen years ago when Deoch personally carried back his bleeding, unconscious body to the University and gave Lorren, who the runner boy happened to fetch, a piece of mind about looking after their damned kids. It must have left him thoroughly confused, since he showed up at Arwyl's room in the Master's Hall and all but dumped the boy in his hands. When the stitches were out a few weeks later and Elodin got whipped for conduct unbecoming, it was Lorren who insisted on the maximum number of lashes. Not that the whipping helped anything.
"Have you eaten or drunk anything that you don't usually do? Picked berries or drunk from a stream?"
"I don't graze, I'm not cattle" Elodin replied, still offended. "A few spans ago I ate barley bread of questionable origin for dinner. And one third of a cinnas fruit" he added after some thinking.
Arwyl wondered what kind of company he could have had dinner with, but it was way too long ago to have any significance. He would have been showing the signs already then.
Elodin's eyes are were growing dimmer. He stared shivering violently, pulling up his legs to his chest as he sat under the thin blanket. There was not much time left before he would slip.
"Tell me everything you did today. Where you were, who you met, what you ate and drank" Arwyl said. He tried to keep the urgency out of his voice, to not scare Elodin.
"I woke up, climbed the roofs, listened to the wind in the morning. Skipped breakfast. Taught a class. Visited Elxa Dal, but we drank only water. I had lunch with Master Herma, then we went to his office. He wanted me to look at a translation he was preparing. He offered me chilled wine and I took a glass. He drank a few sips as well. I was with him until third bell. We drank only water and before I left, he gave me a cinnas fruit. It was too ripe to keep and he didn't have a taste for it, he said. I would have shared it with a friend if it looked like it would hold a few more days. But it was on the edge of overripe so I ate it. Then I visited Alder in Haven and went for a stroll, but I was too tired so I came back. I went to the archives and read a book. Then I had dinner with you and retired to my room. I didn't do anything afterwards, I felt too sick for it. Just drank some water and tried to sleep it off." The lengthy reply must have exhausted him, as Elodin closed his eyes.
Arwyl raised an eyebrow. Elodin only ate and drank with other masters, but everyone else was doing fine. There was only one thing that he ate alone.
"Did Arthur tell you where he got the cinnas fruit from?" he asked. Elodin opened his eyes and looked at him incredulously.
"No. He just said that he'd had it for days and now it was too ripe, so I could have it if I wanted. He saw me looking at it and offered."
It was not a secret that Elodin was very fond of cinnas fruit. None of the other masters liked it that much and they often let him have it if they came by one. Except Hemme, of course. Anyone who knew that could have done it. It didn't have to be Herma.
"Did it taste unusual?"
Elodin shook his head.
"No, I felt no taste, other than the cinnas."
"No taste" Arwyl muttered. Cinnas fruit was sweet enough to hide bitter tastes, but Elodin had eaten enough of it to feel any difference. It must have been something tasteless. Rapid heartbeat, shaking, fever, dry throat, confusion...
Arwyl jumped from the seat. He opened a cabinet and took out two bottles. One was hardly bigger than his thumb. He uncorked it and gave it to Elodin.
"Drink up. All of it, at once. It tastes vile but try to keep it down."
Elodin's hand shook and Arwyl had to steady it with his own, so he could drink it. He heard him gag, but swallowed. Arwyl resisted the urge to pat his head for being a good boy. He put down the other bottle on the nightstand and sat to observe him.
For long minutes, nothing happened and Arwyl was afraid he got the antidote wrong. It might have been a different poison. But then Elodin's breathing evened out and his violent shaking stilled to the occasional shiver. He appeared to be more lucid as well.
"Do you still vomit when you take charcoal?" Arwyl asked. Some people could not handle the texture of it, and Elodin was one of them.
"I haven't tried in the past two years, but I suppose I still do" he answered. Even his voice sounded stronger. Still too weak for comfort, but better than before.
"We'll give a few more minutes for the antidote to work, then you can drink the other bottle. It does the same as charcoal, but without all the mess that causes. Unfortunately, it induces vomiting as well, but it doesn't matter in your case anyways."
Elodin scoffed. Arwyl took it as a good sign. He watched him, checking his temperature once again. The fever had to run its course. He would draw out the poison as best as he could, but that meant no other medication. It was all the same. If the poison didn't kill him, the fever wouldn't. If it did, curing the fever would have been for nothing anyways.
Arwyl's mind was racing. Herma had no reason to poison Elodin. He liked the boy, respected him even. He was made master while Elodin was away and took over from him as chancellor later. Elodin had no dislike for him, and Herma often took his side when he exasperated the other masters with his antics. There was no rivalry or emnity between them.
It must have been unintentional. Herma was the target of the poison. The cinnas fruit could have been accidental. Or the poison placed by someone who didn't care if Elodin ended up as collateral damage. Or the other way around. Elodin was the target and Herma the collateral damage if he were to consume it himself.
The solution came to his mind right away. He didn't want to believe it. It was beyond cruel. Not one of them would be capable of that.
Arwyl realized he had never withdraw his hand and Elodin was now leaning into it. He looked healthier, but tired and as the flush from his skin disappeared, he became pale. He patted him lightly on his cheek. Elodin looked up to him. There was knowing in his eyes. Arwyl didn't have to tell him what had happened, it was clear he figured it out himself. The way he looked at him, the cool sanity of it, scared him.
"Time for the second bottle" he Arwyl said. Elodin reached for it himself and Arwyl stood, picking up a basin which he placed on the chair in front of him. He rummaged through his cabinet for a few strips of dried ginger. He filled a glass with water and put both in the reach of Elodin.
"You can drink a few sips if you want, but don't drink much. It will come back out anyways. Chew on some ginger if you feel like it, but keep some for after you are finished" he advised.
Elodin looked at him, but before he could say anything, he ducked and pulled the basin closer to himself.
Arwyl cracked open a window. The air outside was still unmoving, but it was cooler than the room's temperature. He stared into the darkness outside, trying to give Elodin some privacy. He heard him vomiting. He kept it up a long time and when finally he was just wretchedly dry heaving, Arwyl closed the window.
He took the basin from him.
"Chew on the ginger now. Don't swallow it. And no water" he told him.
He went out to empty the basin and wash it. The Master's Hall was quiet and empty. He could see light seeping from the crack under the door from Mandrag's room, the rest of them were dark. He had a mind of checking on Herma, just to see if he was all right. He answered his knocking right away. He looked sleepy but healthy. Arwyl decided to not trouble him with details until the morning. He told him that Elodin was sick and to cancel his classes for a span, as an excuse for waking him. Herma thanked him and went back to sleep.
Arwyl sighed. The danger was far from over.
Back inside his room, Elodin was asleep. His legs were still on the floor, but he lay on his side, his face resting on Arwyl's pillow. Fever and exhaustion got the better of him. Arwyl lay down the basin next to the door. He couldn't be bothered to put it away yet.
He checked on Elodin's breathing, then lifted his legs up on the bed. He sat down next to him, pulling a book from his nightstand to read. He had to stay awake and watch him, just in case. Some of the poison was still inside his body. It would be a few days until it cleared completely.
Arwyl sat vigil.
He hoped the poisoner was sleeping well, because once Elodin recovered, there would be no sleep for him.
