"Have you gathered those herbs yet?" asked Soren tersely. Ike sighed wearily and dipped a cloth in a bowl of water.

I haven't had the opportunity," he replied quietly. "And honestly, there are no more herbs to gather. Too many people are sick, Soren." As he spoke Ike tried to ignore the stench of sickness that pervaded the air.

"Well you must find more," snapped the arch sage. "Too many have died already, Ike." Ike slapped down the cloth, too tired to care when the wet slap caused his patient to wake.

"You think I don't know that? I can't find what isn't there." Soren drew a sheet over the limp body of a young woman.

"I don't mean to be cross, Ike. Go home and rest a while. I'll finish up here. I'll be home when the next shift comes to relieve me." Ike hesitated unwilling to leave Soren alone to deal with the ailing victims of the plague. The warrior was tired though and Soren looked spry enough.

"I'll see you at home then." Soren's dark eyes watched as Ike slung his cloak over his shoulders and left. As soon as the hero was gone Soren slumped onto the chair stationed beside the dead woman. The sage found it hard to believe that just three weeks ago the town had been healthy. When the first family had fallen ill the town healer had treated them swiftly but to no avail. Their fevers had soured while their breath came in ragged gasps. That accompanied with the dehydration that came with chronic vomiting the people hadn't stood a chance. Because of his vast knowledge of battlefield herbs Soren had been elected the new healer when the previous had fallen dead on the job. He hadn't slept in three days.

The sun was at its apex the next day when a group of courageous young maidens decided to brave the quarantine Soren had set up. By that time four more patients had succumbed to respiratory distress. Sometime in the evening a crew would arrive to take the bodies for cremation. The way home had never seemed longer to the sage. A headache had built behind his eyes during the night making the bright sunlight almost too much to bear. He noticed that Ike was fixing lunch judging by the smoke coming from the chimney. As he had the thought his stomach rumbled for sustenance. He had trouble stomaching food while tending to the sick so it had been quite sometime since he had eaten. Soren let himself into the cottage and tossed down his bag. The fire was burning low with a definite lack of food upon it. The air was stiflingly hot, forcing Soren to roll his sleeves up.

"Ike?" called the arch sage cautiously. Soren knocked on Ike's door before pushing his way into the bedroom. Ike was a quivering lump huddled beneath every blanket in the house. Soren cursed angrily and rushed to his friend's side. Ike's brow was hot with fever while his bangs hung in wet navy clumps. Ike pulled from Soren's touch with a mumbling groan then pitched onto his side and vomited. Soren peeked over the bed, relieved to find a bucket bedside the bed rather than a puddle of sick. Soren vented silently to himself while he went to fetch water for Ike. The man had obviously known he was getting sick or else the bucket wouldn't have been beside the bed. It was something Ike had forgotten to mention while they were at the quarantine site.

While outside he spotted a lone child walking with his dog. "Boy," called Soren. The lad turned and headed towards the mage, little dog yipping excitedly. "Run to the quarantine and tell the nurses that I won't be coming in for a few days."

"What about the ill?" asked the child. "My little sister is there."

"The nurses will do exactly as I would," snapped Soren impatiently. "Right now though my friend is sick." The boy's face scrunched up in anger but Soren didn't wait for him to speak.

Soren treated Ike to the best of his knowledge for two days before it became obvious that Ike was going to succumb to the disease that had already claimed so many. Soren silently scrubbed at his sore eyes as he watched Ike toss feebly. Ike was going to pass soon unless the arch sage found a way to avoid it. His healing magic wouldn't work on the sickness that plagued Ike. He had already tried twisting his power to aid Ike's body but to no avail. There was only one thing to be done.

Soren went to his desk and pulled open its drawer, staring at the innocent potato like tuber sitting there. Ike groaned in the other room. Soren snatched the tuber and took it to the kitchen. Crushing every drop of moisture from the plant's hard flesh was difficult work that left Soren wiping at the sweat on his brow. The plant had a foul smell that made the arch sage want to gag. When he was finished Soren took the tiny vile he had filled with the juice and went to Ike.

"Can you hear me?" asked Soren quietly. He gave Ike a gentle shake. Ike groaned in response. "What I'm about to give you may kill you, Ike. But if I don't do it you'll die for certain." Soren's scarlet gaze studied Ike's weakened body. The power that made Ike great was still visible in his strong muscles. While not a young man, Ike still had at least a decade before his body would even begin to show its age. Knowing Ike as well as he did Soren knew it would likely take much longer. But that wouldn't matter if Ike was murdered by a sickness he had contracted standing by Soren's side. "Forgive me," mumbled Soren before pinching Ike's nose and pouring the liquid into Ike's gasping mouth. The warrior tried to reject the foul medicine but Soren clamped his hand over Ike's mouth and waited. Soren was unnerved by how weak his friend's shoves were. Ike should have been able to throw Soren into the wall with a single hard push. Instead the sage was barely moved. A few minutes later Ike's body relaxed and his eyes rolled into the back of his head. The warrior's face slackened in unnatural sleep. Soren swallowed around the hard lump in his throat. All that was left to do was wait.

The medicine worked by attacking what had caused Ike's illness with all the ferocity Ike had ever battled the Black Knight with. It would be a useful herb if it didn't have the nasty habit of killing more than three quarters of the people administered it. Soren thought that maybe it caused the bodies defences to stop recognizing friend from foe causing it to destroy itself but that was just his conjecture. No one knew enough about the body to really know how the herb worked.

After poisoning Ike the arch sage retired to his room to rest. He hated to leave Ike alone but if he had to sit for hours and wait for Ike to stop breathing he'd likely call a lightening strike upon himself. There was nothing to be done anyway and it had been far too long since he had slept deeply. When he awoke Ike was still comatose. The man hadn't even reacted when Soren had poked the bottom of his foot with a pin. Dinner was ash in Soren's mouth while he waited for Ike to recover. Eventually the sage dozed off again.

Soren came awake slowly, his body aching fiercely. His chest was sore without cause. Soren frowned and shifted to a more comfortable position. He wasn't frightened by the thought that he may be falling ill. If Ike died Soren planned to follow him swiftly. Without Alishia to love and bereft of Ike's friendship Soren was more than willing to take his last breath. The morning sun was poking at his eyelids trying to push him to action. The Branded man opened his eyes and looked to Ike to see if the man had survived the night.

Ike was watching him silently. "Do I want to know what you were thinking?" asked Ike as Soren sat up and stretched.

"How long have you been awake?" Ike tried not to be annoyed at Soren's neat evasion.

"Off and on since last night. I didn't want to wake you." Soren filled a cup with water and helped Ike to drink.

"Wake me next time. I don't need sleep that badly."

"Good," grunted Ike as Soren helped him sit up. "Because I'm in terrible need of a loo." Soren chuckled lowly then started to cough. Ike frowned at him worriedly. "I didn't get you sick, did I?" Soren waved the question off. Ike wriggled out from under the blankets and shivered when air brushed across his skin.

"I'm part dragon, Ike. Even if I get sick it will not kill me." Ike listed weakly against Soren as they walked to the bathroom.

"You're a damned liar," mumbled Ike grumpily. Soren smirked.