Chapter 4: Pascal's Theory; Cheria's Concern
Though it was not his first time ridding in the Amarcians' ancient shuttle, Richard never quite got used to the feeling of flying through the air. Though the travel was much smoother than any other vessel he'd become accustomed to taking, there was an uncertainty about riding a ship through the skies that never completely left him. It was foolish, but he'd been far more comfortable riding something that had wings of its own, even if it had been a monster. Never-the-less the shuttle was by far the fastest means of travel and Richard was glad to discover they could make use of the machine for their return to Lhant. He would take any time that they could spare.
"I must admit, I'm rather impressed," Richard said, admiring the device he held in his hands.
The small piece of machinery was intricately built; with several gears and switches that Richard dared not function for fear of ruining the device Pascal had spent a greater part of the night assembling. Atop the strange machine was a display of sorts that produced a multitude of numbers whose meanings were lost on him. Still, he did not have to understand its function to appreciate the work that must have gone into building it.
"It's not much, but it should do the trick," Pascal commented. "Fourier helped me test it against some of her veras and it seems to work. It would have been nice to spend some more time testing it, but it kinda sounds like Asbel might not have much of it."
"His illness set in so quickly, we're concerned it will continue to progress at the same pace," Richard affirmed. "I think right now uncertainty is our greatest challenge. We might have days, we might have months, there's no way of knowing."
"Well then we just have to be prepared for anything!" Pascal chirped encouragingly, while Richard returned the instrument to her bag. He couldn't help but take a second look at the size of her sack. If one didn't know any better, they'd think she'd no intention of ever returning home. For someone who didn't feel the need to bathe on a regular basis, she certainly looked like she had packed enough to survive a year without wearing the same outfit twice. Not that Richard suspected a single item in that sac was actually a piece of clothing.
"And is that the reason you packed so heavily?" Richard inquired. Pascal looked at him with confusion for a moment before looking down at her bag.
"Oh yeah, I guess so." Pascal admitted sheepishly, her free hand scratching the back of her head. "I mean we don't know what's wrong with Asbel so I just brought everything!"
"I see." Yes, that was a solution that was truly worthy of Pascal.
While Richard spent the next few moment pondering what Pascal could have possibly felt the need to bring with her, the engines flared in roar that told Richard they had finally reached their destination. Travelling back from Fendel, they had gained some daylight and they found Lhant just as its residents began to stir for the day.
Perhaps it was a testament to Asbel's involvement in the world's affairs, but even as they set down the shuttle, they drew very little attention. Though many stopped to identify the noise, acknowledging the ancient machine with a look of awe, few save for the children got excited over its appearance. The sight of the shuttle had become almost commonplace in the small hamlet, which was truly a sign of changing times.
With fewer people about, Richard and Pascal were able to make the journey to the manor in far less time then Richard had several days prior, and already he felt as if that journey were a lifetime ago. So much had happened in so short a time, he realized that even now he'd barely begun to process it all. Looking back up at the manor's exterior for the second time in three days, Richard could only pray that they would be able to find a quick solution. He was in the midst of realizing how much he had already come to take their peaceful days for granted.
As he and Pascal approached the entrance, Richard spotted two of his Knights dutifully standing guard and a whole other realization came over the young king. While neither man said anything as he passed by, Richard knew exactly what flurry was about to come crashing down on him as soon as he passed through those doors. Maybe he really should get a new attendant.
"Your Majes-"
"That will be enough," Richard fired off sternly, hoping the man who came running at the sight of him would take the hint that he was the last thing Richard wanted to deal with at this particular point in time.
"But Your Majesty you vanished without so much as a word! We had no idea where you'd gone, what if something had happened to you?"
"I informed Lady Cheria of my destination, and I did not require an escort," Richard returned. "The world is not so treacherous a place that I cannot visit a friend without an army alongside me."
"None-the-less, please consider your station! What would befall our great country if she should lose her King? With no heirs of your own you must be cautious!"
"I believe I told you that will be enough," Richard reaffirmed, the edge in his voice finally silencing his over-eager attendant. "You are dismissed for the time being."
"Sir," the man replied, slinking away to the servants' quarters.
"Wow," Pascal commented. "You came down on him kind of hard, dontch'a think?"
"I know he means well," Richard replied with a sigh. "But sometimes I fear he is a bit too eager. He has trouble knowing when enough is enough."
"Maybe, but he was just worried about you, ya know?"
"You're right," Richard conceded. Perhaps his irritation had gotten the better of him; after all he'd been slightly on edge since finding out Asbel was ill. "I'll have to be sure to apologize to him later. For now, shall we see about finding Cheria?"
"Y'ok!" Pascal agreed, raising her arm in the air.
"If you're looking for Lady Cheria," Frederick interrupted, "I believe you'll find her in Lord Asbel's chambers. She's scarcely left them since you departed."
"I might have expected as much," Richard replied. "Thank you Frederick."
"It's no trouble, Your Majesty," Frederick answered with a bow.
"Are you sure you don't need any help with that Pascal?" Richard inquired as the Amarcian hauled the bag up over her back.
"Nope," Pascal insisted, almost skipping up the steps before turning to him and giving him a look that demanded to know what he was waiting for.
Following her up the stairs, Richard reached to knock on the door when Pascal burst right in. The momentum her heavy bag created sent the door crashing open, no doubt adding to the dent that Cheria had previously incurred on the adjacent wall. Once Pascal had cleared from the doorway, Richard could see that Cheria had been seated in a chair beside Asbel's bed. In the time he'd been gone, she'd removed Asbel's jacket, and settled him into the bed more comfortably. Several bowls of various foods sat discarded on the nightstand from her attempts at feeding him, though the half-empty glasses of water were more encouraging.
"Hey Cheria!" Pascal bounced over to Lhant's Lady, her energy dispersing the sombre atmosphere that had settled in the room. "It's been like forever! You've got to come visit Fendel more often! Poisson tells me she can make a wicked grilled chicken bowl, but I told her you were the deciding judge of that."
"Hello Pascal," Cheria replied, smiling for what may very well have been the first time in days. Her eyes alone look burdened with worry, just as the darkened circles beneath her eyes told Richard she likely hadn't slept properly since his departure. "I'll have to keep that in mind," she added. "Perhaps once Asbel is well again we ought to go on a trip together. It's been awhile since either of us has left Lhant for any extended period of time."
"Aww geez, you guys are totally missing out! There's all kinds of stuff to see all over the place, like just the other day I heard they discovered some Amarcian ruins just north of-"
"Pascal," Richard cut her off.
"Oops, sorry, you're right," she said sheepishly. "I guess before we do any of that we've got to get Asbel here all fixed up!"
"I admit, I didn't expect you back so soon," Cheria confessed. "Does that mean you found something in the Archives?"
"Unfortunately not," Richard confessed.
"Yeah," Pascal added, her voice muffled as she dug deep within her pack for the piece she needed. "Apparently all our medical records went all kapoof! So there isn't anything in the Archives that can be helpful."
"So now what?" Cheria asked. "The doctor's tests didn't find anything wrong with him, we're at our wits end. He keeps deteriorating and no one knows why."
"Don't worry Cheria," Pascal piped up, clicking the last piece of her monitor into place. "The fact that the tests didn't find anything just means that they weren't looking for the right stuff, that's all."
"What do you mean?"
"I'm with you guys," she said. "From what Richard's told me, it really sounds like it might have something to do with his eleth, which is why I cooked this baby up, right here."
"What exactly is that thing?"
Cheria was right to be sceptical of the device Pascal was in the process of setting up over Asbel. Had he not been involved in its creation, Richard likely would have harboured similar sentiments towards the strange machine. Under its rectangular display sat a metal box. Several slits in the box opened to reveal a mesh of gears and wire. Several long legs protruded from its sides anchoring a small cryas that sat against Asbel's chest.
"It's a device Pascal constructed to measure Asbel's eleth," Richard provided, leading Cheria back over to the bedside. "She and Fourier programmed it to detect whether his eleth levels are normal."
"Exactly!" Pascal exclaimed. "With this we'll be able to tell exactly what's going on with Asbel's eleth. Now all I have to do is plip plop this little thingamajigger and-" The device roared to life and several sequential lights began to flash.
"Richard…" Cheria spoke so softly that her voice barely rose above the sound of the machine. "What if it isn't his eleth? Then what do we do? And what if it is? We aren't any closer to a solution then either!"
"It doesn't matter what it is," Richard replied, softly squeezing her hand re-assuredly. "We'll find a way to save him."
The machine slowed to a stop and Pascal began frantically punching commands into the small display. Richard reached over and pulled some of the covers back up over his friend from where the machine had displaced them. As he retreated his hand brushed against Asbel's face and he instantly noted that Asbel's skin was cool to the touch. When he had first arrived nothing about Asbel had felt amiss, including his temperature. He was still slipping away from them. Richard felt his fist clench tightly as he bit back the frustration that swelled within him. He didn't need this own emotions causing Cheria any more concern. Asbel would make it through this, he had to believe that. No, he was going to believe that, even if no one else would. For Asbel who believed in him when everyone else had given up, he could do nothing less.
"Well that's not good," Pascal mused, staring at the screen of her device with her head tilted to the left.
'What is it?" Cheria asked.
"These readings are way off from what Fourier says they should be."
In what way?
Lambda's voice caught Richard off guard. He guiltily admitted that he'd almost forgotten about Lambda's presence in light of everything else swimming around in his mind. Richard repeated the question to Pascal.
"I mean, I guess there's a chance that Fourier miscalculated, but I doubt it was by this much."
"Pascal," Richard interjected. "Do you know what the problem is, or not?"
"I don't know for sure," Pascal admitted. "But at this point, I think its safe to say that it isn't his eleth causing it."
"Why do you say that?" Cheria inquired.
"His eleth levels are so low, to be honest, I'm almost amazed he's still breathing. I don't think he has enough eleth in him to be doing anything other than keeping him alive right now."
"But what would possibly run his eleth so low?" Richard mused. "From what everyone has told us thus far, a person's eleth isn't supposed to change.
"That's the thing," Pascal continued. "The detector also picked up some real wonky signals that it didn't know what to do with. I have no idea what it might be, but I'd be willing to bet they're the cause of this. Maybe whatever this weird signal is has been using Asbel's eleth to poison him somehow. Yeah… that's gotta be it! Then it would totally make sense. His body is trying to slow the poison by shutting of its own eleth flow in order to protect itself!"
"You think he was poisoned?" Cheria gasped.
"Not poisoned per-say," Pascal tried to explain. "I doubt there's any poison we know of that works through someone's eleth supply. I'm just saying that whatever this is acts like a poison would."
"Most toxins would have been picked up by a routine blood test," Richard pointed out. "Though my uncle has proved that there are several that cannot be," he added darkly. Yes, he'd more than ample experience with the intricate world of poisons. He'd been poisoned himself more times than he cared to count. That he was still standing today he could attribute solely to Lambda's protection and regenerative capabilities, but that was a fact that was neither here nor there. If this was a problem that Lambda was unable to solve, or even detect, Richard was assured it couldn't possibly be a normal toxin.
"None-the-less," he continued. "I have a difficult time believing someone would want to poison Asbel. There are very few who would stand to gain by his death, and of them none who would wish for it."
"So what can we do to make him better?" Cheria asked.
"I don't know if we can," Pascal admitted. "The hardest part is that his body is doing this to itself. It's trying to protect itself from whatever is attacking him."
"So until we remove the aggressor, there's no chance of him waking," Richard concluded.
"Pretty much," Pascal confirmed. "As long as his body sees his eleth as a threat, it'll just keep on shutting things down."
'Lambda,' Richard thought to himself. 'When did all of this begin?'
When did what begin?
'When did Asbel's eleth begin to decline? If we can pinpoint when it started, we might have a better chance of identifying the precipitating factor.'
Unfortunately, I do not generally pay attention to Asbel's eleth. It is a constant presence; I've never had the need to pay it any special mind.
Lambda's reply sent Richard's musings to a crashing halt. He was struck by a wave of uncertainty. It was a peculiar feeling, one that set the muscles in his gut tightening uncomfortably.
'Wait…' Richard began. 'If you don't pay attention to Asbel's eleth, then how did you know that was the problem in the first place?'
It was merely a deduction based on the facts that we possessed at the time. Lambda replied simply. No more than a guess. It could have just as easily been incorrect.
Though his words made plenty of sense, the unease that had flooded Richard had yet to subside. If anything the more he thought on it, the less sense it made. Lambda knew it was Asbel's eleth. Richard realized now that the reason he had been so sure that Asbel's eleth was the problem stemmed from Lambda's own certainty. He had been influenced; pushed so that he refused to let the subject drop even when everyone else said it was impossible. If that was the case… then Lambda was lying, or at the very least was not telling the entire truth. But what did Lambda stand to gain by not telling them right off the bat? Just what was the ancient creature trying to hide? Was it possible that Lambda played some kind of part in this after all?
"Well at the very least, Asbel's low eleth explains his symptoms," Richard confirmed aloud, still trying to swallow the lump in his throat. "If eleth is required to sustain life, then his current state would be the natural outcome of a shortage."
"What happens if he stays like this?" Cheria inquired.
"Well, the bad part is, whatever is poisoning him is still there," Pascal replied. "Either the poison wins out, or his body will keep shutting down its eleth supply. Either way… he'll eventually die unless we do something."
Cheria inhaled sharply, her gaze returning to Asbel. No… this just couldn't be happening. She shook her head in disbelief. This was all just a bad dream, right? Soon she would wake up to his smiling face lying next to her and all these feelings would disappear into the morning air. They would get up like they always did, she'd cook him and Sophie some crablettes for breakfast, and Asbel would complain that she made Sophie's favourite more often than his. Cheria bit back a sob.
"Cheria?" Richard voice brought Cheria back to reality. She felt his hand's soft pressure on her arm and she was so very grateful for his presence. Richard was fighting so hard for Asbel, he had dropped everything without giving it a second thought and each time she saw that determination in his eyes she felt a little bit better. He made her feel as though things would all work out somehow. They weren't going to give up, and she needed to be strong as well. For Asbel whom she loved more than anything she would not let herself falter.
"Thank you Richard," Cheria replied softly. "I'm alright now."
"So what do we do to get rid of this poison?" Richard inquired.
"Before we get to that, there's one other thing I'd like to know," Pascal commented.
"What is that?" Cheria asked.
"How did it get there?" Pascal inquired. "I mean, Cheria's alright and no one else in the manor is sick, right?"
"That's true," Cheria realized. "And I'm certain we'd have heard if anyone else in Lhant displayed any similar symptoms by now."
"Has he been anywhere different lately?" Pascal asked.
"No not at all," Cheria returned. "In fact he's barely left the study in the past couple weeks."
"Lambda?" Richard inquired.
No, he has done nothing outside of his normal routine of late.
Again a feeling of stark unease flooded Richard, enough to set his stomach roiling. The peculiar sensation swirled in his gut for a moment before curling up his throat and making the young King distinctly uncomfortable. What was this strange feeling? Was it coming from Lambda?
He pondered for a moment, debating asking Lambda what was wrong but no sooner had the thought occurred to him than he realized he knew the answer. Lambda was worried about Asbel, just as they all were. These feeling were no different than the reason he had yelled at his attendant earlier. Whether he was hiding something or not, it didn't change the fact that they were all Asbel's friends; of course Lambda would be on edge like the rest of them.
Richard shook his head leaving his friends with a disappointed sigh. Pascal stared furiously at the readings she had taken, trying to force more answers out of them than the numbers were willing to provide. Cheria once again adjusted the blankets over Asbel.
"I wonder…" Cheria began hesitantly. "Could this be because of Lambda?" She asked.
"I don't think Lambda would ever want to hurt Asbel, Cheria," Pascal pointed out. "Besides, even if for some reason he did, it would be pretty dumb to put himself out of a home."
She looked at both her friends one at a time, and frustration rose from within her. "Don't look at me like that," she insisted. "Don't tell me it didn't cross your mind as well. I'm not saying he did it intentionally, but what if it's some kind of side-effect of sheltering him all these years?"
"But Lambda lived with Richard for almost 7 years, right?" Pascal pointed out. "This never happened to him."
"That is true," Richard affirmed. "However, while we did interact from time to time, with the exception of the months leading up to the Valkines Crisis, Lambda spent the greater portion of our time together dormant. In Asbel's case, Lambda has been mostly active. Our situations aren't quite the same."
Richard stopped to see both girls staring at him intently. "What is it?" He finally asked.
"Nothing," Cheria was the first to break his gaze. "It's just, you've never spoken of your time with Lambda before."
"Oh," Richard looked down at the floor. It was true, those were times he didn't want to think back on, much less relive with any level of detail. An uncomfortable silence blanketed the room until the tension was palpable.
The seven years he'd spent growing up with Lambda had been spent almost entirely alone. Ever since the incident in the catacombs he'd been watched closer than ever, though the real threat remained within the castle he'd been forbidden from leaving. He spent the years looking over his shoulder, watching for the knife that would inevitably stab him in the back. To say that they weren't his happiest times didn't begin to do it justice. All those feelings, all that darkness, he had put the entirety of it behind him and he wasn't going to look back. If only it could fade into the past and stop leaving him with such a weight on his chest.
"What-" Cheria took a deep breath. "What does Lambda have to say about it?"
Richard waited but if Lambda had any thoughts on the matter he had no desire to share them and his voice remained silent.
"Our first priority should be saving Asbel," Richard pointed out. "Once he's better, Asbel might be able to give us more insight as to the source."
"It's easy to say that, but how to suggest we go about it?" Cheria asked. "It's an unprecedented problem, and we don't have any records to go off of."
"Well…" Pascal interrupted. "That may not be entirely true. The records might still be intact somewhere."
"Really?" Richard asked. "Where?" Pascal simply pointed her finger towards the ceiling.
"Of course." The realization dawned on Richard. "There may still be records intact on Fodra."
"Plus they were way more advanced technologically than we are, I'd be willing to bet if they have records of his condition, they might also have some kind of cure."
"If that's the case, then they could very well be our only chance of saving Asbel," Richard noted. "Though it will mean travelling to Fodra."
"No worries!" Pascal piped up. "The shuttle is all rigged up to control the heat cannons from on board. I can zip us up there in a jiffy!"
"I'm coming this time," Cheria insisted, her piercing gaze lancing the young king. "I won't be left behind again, and before you say another word, I am not far enough along to be treated like an invalid."
"Wait, far enough along? Cheria, you're pregnant?!" Pascal exclaimed. "Oh my god, like congratulations!"
"Thank you Pascal, but I'm surprised Hubert never mentioned anything to you. We told him as soon as we found out."
For a split second, Cheria saw Pascal's smile vanish and the resulting expression left her face empty. But as rapidly as it had come, a second smile lit up her face and Pascal took Cheria's hand in her own.
"Oh my gosh, can I name the baby Banana Pie?"
Cheria let out a disheartened sigh. "I see you and Asbel have similar tastes in names."
