CHAPTER 9 I Find Myself In Izark's Care

I pull out the knife I claimed in Calco. One of my least favorite part of video games is when the player character picks up a quest character who is completely helpless, or worse, useless. If the quest character has a sword or other weapon, then it ought to be helping out against all the enemies that are inevitably thrown at the player character. If I'm the quest character "Fairy Queen" that got picked up by the player character "Super Knight", then I'm danged going to be able to do my seven points of damage and work up to twenty, minimum. Even if he did just go up a level at the end of the Calco segment of the quest. That only happened with both of us working together. I've decided quite firmly that is a requirement of this quest. I can feel it.

"Izark," I can't decide whether to wheedle or be firm, then I remember honey draws more bees. "[Please], teach me." I ask it calmly. "This place, this planet isn't safe. Teach me to protect myself enough to get away." I look at him soberly. Sometimes, when we are calm and speak slowly to each other, the message gets across, even if we don't have the words. "It will be enough to help you, too, when you get into something that just a little bit more would help." He stares at me, and I know he got the level of sincerity, but not the message, not fully. I don't know if it will be enough.

I put the knife back into its sheath, then go find a stick the right length and strength. It takes me a while and he has the campfire started and the water for dinner is on to boil. I show him the two sticks I've found. One about the length of his sword, the other the approximate length of my knife. I hold out the long one to him. "[Please.]"

Izark sighs and looks at me sadly, then he takes the practice sword and nods. It's not quite reluctant... more unhappy. It looks like he's been thinking about it. He didn't argue this time. He motions me over and he draws a circle on the ground, starting with a point, that he points to, then the circle, then pointing to the point again. The ending is the beginning. Everything comes back again. I nod. I got it. The philosophy of karma and Christianity: don't do something you don't want to have done to you. If he's going to teach me, I have to understand where I am starting from, because it's going to come back to me.

I move to the next part of the dirt. I draw me, then the knife with the point down next to me as a second figure, then a bandit. As a second diagram, I draw Izark and a bandit in front of him and a bandit behind him, leaving space. Then I draw me between him and the bandit at his back. I'm facing the second bandit, making Izark and myself back-to-back. Then I draw a knife, point down between me and the bandit. The knife is a shield. Can he understand that?

Izark puts his hand on his own sword, then points to it. I nod. I watch as he puts out his long arm, covered in it's ever-present wrap, and his slender finger reaches out. He draws a sword, point down between himself and the bandit his pictograph faces. Then he pauses over the knife between me and the second bandit. Finally he withdraws. I know he wanted to put a sword there instead, also - his sword. "Sheshe, Noriko," he says soberly and looks me in the eye.

"You're welcome, Izark." I answer. I know he is talking about what I did for him in preventing the teleporting bandit from making that second blow.

I blink, run my hand through my hair, then smile a little. I try to draw three-dimentionally, placing stick-figure bandits all around both of us, then I draw his sword between us and all the rest of the bandits. He blinks back, then gets a slow, tiny smile on his face. "Yes, Noriko." I smile a bright smile at him. I'm happy with that. Maybe some day I'd be able to work up to two, or even three, but not likely ever enough to kill, except by accident - critical hit level - 100 on a 2D10.

His second lesson is that strength - he uses the "strong arm" symbol from before - is within us. What we are, what we bring to the table, is what is our strength. A solid core, brings solid strength. I get it, but I don't got it. I sigh. I point to myself, then cross out the strength symbol, shaking my head, then I draw the strength symbol again, little by little, in between swinging my practice stick. I will need to build up my strength.

I am surprised when Izark shakes his head at me, erases the 'x' over the original strength symbol and solemnly informs me I am already strong. I frown and blink, then point to myself, then shake my head, cover my eyes, and point back at the strength symbol all while saying, "I don't see it." When I look at him again he is just looking at me, bemused. I'm just a student, I want to protest, but he wouldn't understand it. Maybe he's thinking he doesn't know how to explain it to me either, because he lets it drop, standing. He motions to me and I erase the board and stand where he puts me. We begin the first practical lesson, standing side by side, me imitating his movements.

-o-o-o-

We've been travelling by 'horse' - they have feet more like a camel, heads like a deer, and bodies like a slender horse or wide deer, and they coo, snort, and squeek (sort of) - which I like because it puts me close to him. It was uncomfortably embarrassing at first to have to ride in front of him because he has to hold the reigns. That puts his arms as if he were half-embracing me. We've been on the road now for almost six weeks though, so it doesn't bother me any more. I even fall asleep occasionally and make him let me lean on him, which he doesn't complain about, but I think embarrasses him, unless I've been making him talk too much to help me learn the language. He doesn't complain about that either. I don't like to talk so much, except I want to learn it quickly and the only way is to hear it and practice it. Often we will fall into silences that last long enough...for me to fall asleep. Sometimes he'll start talking just to keep me awake. I need to find something else to do when our jaws and ears get tired and I'm getting bored.

I've learned the ordinal directions and we're headed rather southeast, though for a while it was rather random. For the last two weeks we've been slowly following a large stream, or small river, I'm not sure which. Sometimes we'll stay an additional night at a particular campsite. We've been here at this one for the longest - this will be our third night. It's a nice beachy sort of area at a bend in the river, where it takes off to head south. He keeps looking east, though. I think he wants to head that way next, but there is something keeping him here at the river side for now. I wonder what it is? I haven't had a reaction to the blood immunization yet, and I wonder why. I also have been picking up the language faster than I would have expected since I don't have my book out unless it's evening and we are at the campfire and Izark can add his written language to it. When I want to talk, though, I see the pictures I draw to go with the words and the words come to me. We've just graduated recently from nouns and some verbs and I'm trying to get syntax and prepositions. That's coming slower at the moment.

Izark stands and walks to the east side of our encampment, the farthest from the water side, again. He's starting to make me anxious as well. I stand and walk over to him. We've run into occasional wild creatures (monsters in my book) that he's had to fight off, though it doesn't take much from someone like him. "Izark, [monsters is it?]" He starts and that surprises me. He always knows when I'm approaching. "[Ah...Noriko, no not monsters. Word thinking.]" I automatically assign "just" to the word he said that I didn't know and stick it in my mental dictionary. I'm getting better at remembering things to put in my dictionary. That may be part of what is helping me learn faster, too. I purse my lips. "[Come practice, please.]" I say. If he's going to be that impatient this late in the day, when we can't actually pack up and go anymore, we shouldn't have stayed the extra day. Maybe if we practice I can keep him distracted.

He must agree with that thought because he comes. After the warm-up and drill exercises, we work a little on one-on-one practice. We've only been doing that for a few weeks, and he keeps it light. Even still, tonight I don't recover as quickly after we rest. When he gets started on the evening routine I just sit and watch him for a bit. We've already got all the firewood we need right now, and there isn't much for me to do until it's time to wash the dishes. Hmmm. I can't finish as much of dinner as usual. "[Sorry, Izark, not so hungry today.]" Izark looks at me, but shrugs slightly. I take his dishes when he's done and head to the river to wash up. A wave of dizziness overcomes me and all of a sudden, I'm headed for the ground. I feel Izark by me, catching me, and I want to protest it was just a sudden blood rush, but I can't. I'm suddenly shivering and so weak I can't hardly open my eyes, let alone move or speak.

I'm wrapped in a blanket and close to the crackling fire. Strange things are dancing in my mind and I whimper. A strong hand is under my head and an herbal drink is pressed to my lips. I greedily drink at the warmth, except it is very hard to swallow, so I have to back off on speed until...I fade out again. I'm panting...so hot! Struggling weakly to be free of the covers, pulling at the neck of my dress, my skin burns and I want it to not be covered. So badly, I begin to moan and then panic. There are hands on me, removing layers and I'm desperate, and so glad when the layers are off. But I want my skin off now, too. It's like I'm being boiled alive from within. Hands touch me, lift me, and I cry out in pain at the touch, then I'm being lowered into cold running water and I whimper in relief.

I float in the water. My head is being held so I don't float away and don't drown, but inside I'm still so hot I am panting. It hurts so bad, hot tears are slipping down the sides of my head to join the water rushing past me. I can't see how a human body can survive such high temperatures for any length of time and I'm afraid. I know I've been in and out of consciousness and am sure I've been here for a very long time, here in the cold river. "Izark. Izark." I moan, wishing he could save me from this too, though I suppose he is, since he's doing what he can. My head is lifted out of the water just enough to uncover my ears. "[Noriko, here am I]," his voice is calming. His hands shift on my head and I gasp in pain, though it lets me know he really is here with me. In the end, the overall pain is too much and I lose consciousness again.

I'm breathing normally again. The air is still and quiet. My skin and body are no longer too hot, though I feel a little cool. The blanket wrapped tightly around me is comforting. I can feel Izark is close by, but sleeping. I drift back to sleep, comforted by that warmth, too.

My eyes fly open. I have a weird, very unpleasant sensation in my belly. It feels like I've got insects crawling around - inside my intestines, or the space around them. "Izark! Izark!" I'm panicked again, curling around my belly, then arching instead when it hurts to crunch down. "[Insects inside! Help,]" I gasp when he is next to me. He is pulling the blanket off me. He puts a hand on me and I grab it and move it to where I can feel them the most. I'm not sure what he does, but it helps. They stop moving. I breathe for a minute, then move his hand again to the next place I can feel movement. Another three times and I pass out again. I'm grossed out on the way, though. I hope those weren't really real living creatures. My least favorite is the horror, and all I can think about is my brother and his friends talking about Aliens, the movie.

Three more times we have to do this, though by the last time there are only a few wiggling in the lower colon and I put his hand on my back that time, towards my tailbone. The next time I wake up, I have to go to the bathroom very badly, but Izark is ahead of me. He'd been watching me and has me immediately up and has me seated on a log behind a bush, then disappears. I poop out more than I've ever pooped in my life. It smells nasty and I don't look. It was both lumpy and watery and all I can think about is overly large-sized ant body pieces being ejected. I hope they all are, and that I'm so wrong about it. There is a stack of large leaves on the ground near my feet. When everything has come out that's going to, I use them to clean up as best I can.

I can't stand, so I go to my hands and knees and crawl out from behind the bush. Izark picks me up and carries me to the river again. He carefully washes me clean - everywhere. I blush but can't do anything about it. I'm as weak as a plucked leaf. The soap feels nice, though, and has an herbal scent that is calming. I wonder where he got it.

The next time I wake up, I itch. I struggle against the blanket wrapped around me, and the rubbing scratches the itches enough, but then they feel firey and I gasp. "[Noriko, what is it?]" Izark is crouched next to me. "Itchy," I say, but I don't know that word in his language. "Itches, then ow." He gives me a word, I apply it, but grit my teeth instead of say it. Speaking made the back of my throat itch and the insides of my ears itch, like I'm having a massive allergic reaction to something. I can't help rubbing the inside of the side of my throat with my tongue and fire is the result. I groan. "[How long?]"

Izark frowns, then shakes his head. "[Noriko different.]" Great. I'm having a reaction to everything, but my responses are different. "[How?]" "...[Faster]." I raise my head in surprise, looking at him. "[Faster] recovery...[fix]? Or [faster cycle?]" He looks at me soberly. "[Everything faster.]" I'm talking to keep my attention away from the itching that is increasing in severity, even though it is now burning my throat. "[Symptoms worse, better, same?]" He shakes his head and I drop my head, moaning against the itching. If it's faster, it's got to be worse. "[Herbs? Please?]" I beg. He reaches over and picks up a cup and helps me drink from it. "[Poultice?]" He looks at me in concern, then takes the blanket off to check my skin. I am just seeing his eyes go wide as mine close.

It takes everything I have to not scratch. Time is wide and the itching endless. Then a cool touch as I am lightly painted all over my body. The relief left behind makes the heated places even more irritable and I grouch, not using words, since it isn't possible anyway, until all of me but under my hair is painted, and I wish that could be, too. "[Head?]" I do manage to get out. As my first ear is painted, I give a little pleased moan. He does my neck and I moan in pleasure again. He pauses, then starts at my forehead hairline. I start humming. By the time he is nearing half-way done with my scalp, I'm finally at a level bearable enough I'm passing back into sleep again.

What an idiot. I'm awake, but I don't open my eyes. Izark can't be distracted right now. I'm such an idiot. I've put him to so much trouble, and I'll bet I wouldn't have had to go through it at all, this is such a fairy tale place. ...It's been three of four so far...I wonder what the last one will be? A cough tickles at the back of my throat, and I finally can't keep it in. Once I've started, I can't stop. The bandits bothering Izark finally believe him, that he's tending a sick person and they don't want what I have. They back off and disappear. I'm barely getting in breaths for all the coughing out, so I force my lungs to behave just enough to keep my brain sufficiently supplied with oxygen. Izark is doing things around me and after a bit there is a scent in the air that, when I breathe in, helps my lungs to open up enough, and the cough to calm enough, that I can tell there is another blanket tented over me, or at least my head and chest, and that a small pile of leaves is being smoked under it for me to breathe in.

My chest is still tight, though, and the constriction is becoming uncomfortable. Fingers are touching me, painting me again. Across my chest and ribs and upper back - because I'd rolled onto my side in order to cough better. Then hands, one in front and one in back, are massaging the poultice into me. Poor Izark. He must be massively embarrassed with this one. He hates to touch, dislikes being touched. I focus on breathing. The massage and the cooling effect of the poultice helps to relieve the constriction around my chest and lungs. For a while, it doesn't matter how much I try, I can't breathe deeply at all, then, finally, the combination seems to take effect and my lungs open up enough I can breathe somewhat normally. I'm just relaxing when my head explodes. I grab at it and keen, unknowingly since I can't hear anything - only feel a vibration in my lungs. I feel Izark's hand on the back of my neck, putting pressure where the skull meets the backbone at the top of the neck, and I am falling into darkness.

The pain in my head is intense and I'm not glad to be awake again. I moan and try to roll, but there is something in my way. It moves and looks at me. I can't open my eyes to see well, but it looks like a bear anyway so I close my eyes again. I can tell by feel it's Izark. He's fallen asleep next to me and I've woken him up. "[My head,]" I moan at him. "Oowww."

"[Noriko sees what?]" I open my eyes again to slits and try to look around. "Izark [is a] bear...Earth [creature]."

Izark gets to his feet and picks me up again, though this time he leaves me wrapped in my blanket. I can hear the sound of the river approaching. "Izark [will protect] Noriko." I don't understand why he said this. Of course. I know he will. This time, not all of me goes in, just my head. After a bit, I begin to understand why he said it. I'm starting to see things even with my eyes closed. They start innocent enough, but they begin to morph into things very frightening. I know he is here next to me - I can feel him inside and outside - but they are becoming too frightening. A whimper escapes me and he puts his hand on my shoulder. Fixating on his touch is sufficient for a time, then it isn't enough. I reach up and take his hand, tug on it a bit to get him to stretch a little more, and I put his hand over my closed eyes. Having his scent so close to my nose and his touch over the scenes my eyes are seeing, even though they are in my head, helps immensely. I try to focus on the stream passing by my cheek and his touch instead of the visions.

A cough takes me again and I am lifted out of the water I had forgotten about. I don't know how long I was passed out this time. I'm carried back to the little tent to breathe the smoking herbs again, but it is short-lived and I'm passed out again quickly, the herbs helping me to relax and the resulting pain in my head not sufficient to prevent it.

Terror overtakes me and I roll over quickly and grab the body next to mine and bury my head into it. My mind is screaming that it is a humongous woolly caterpillar that is going to open it's belly and swallow me whole. My heart knows it's Izark's warmth, Izark's strength. I hold on with all my might, shivering. My arms are removed and I let out a little cry of fear, but then I'm picked up again and once again my head is doused in the water of the river. I'm clinging to the woolly sasquatch's fur, the caterpillar replaced by it, completely unwilling to let go. It's other hand goes on top of my eyes again and I'm smelling mint mixed with prunes. "God, this is terrible," I moan.

The words that come to my ears are garbled. "[Wrong smells, wrong touch, wrong hearing.]" I'm going to assume he asked what my symptoms were. I want to complain about it anyway. "[Head-heart stupid afraid.]" He pats my arm, where his hand can reach since I won't let go of his sleeve. Yeah, bear with it until it's over, just like everything else. I sigh, a wavery sort of thing, and nod. When the coughing takes me again, I shake my head. I don't want to leave the river just yet. The cooling actually helped calm down the images and other symptoms. It's like some strange brain fever, tied to the lungs not quite taking in the right levels of air mixture, or something. Izark only gives me a brief reprieve, then has me in the tent again to start a new bunch of herbs smoking. Once I'm breathing again, I realize he was right. If it's a problem with the breathing of the right mixture, then I need to have the lungs properly open more than the head cooled. My fear doesn't go away this time and when he is content and lays down next to me again, I roll over to shiver in him. He rolls me back over so I'm getting the best effect of breathing the herbs, then puts his arm over me - both to hold me down, and to let me know he is still protecting me. I finally slip into sleep again.

I wake in an absolute terror. I'm not even sure I am awake. I'm up on my feet and running for the cool river that I can hear but not see. All I see are moving shapes and shadows that smell lemony, then rainbow, then curl into orange and frothy beer flavored ferns. I hit the water and dive in to get my head under it, and swim, hard, trying to escape whatever it is I'm running from, while keeping my head underwater as much as possible. There is a great movement next to me and I'm being grabbed and hauled up to the surface where I cough and sputter. I wriggle, as if I'm a great fish that has just been pulled up and I am trying to escape back to the river.

"[Idiot,]" Izark's voice is very annoyed. Finally! I can at least hear right. I fight the irrational fear reaction I'm having and switch to grabbing him, twisting enough to wrap one arm around his shoulder. Whatever reaction I'm having that has increased my strength, makes it so that is enough for me to get fully turned around so that I can bury my head in his neck and clamp both arms around his neck. He holds me dangling over the river, and I'm shivering with fear and against the need to keep running. He carries me back to the shore, the air tasting like curry and cat hair, the vision in my head being that we are walking through a waterfall rainbow with crunchy birds flying through it and frightening creatures surrounding us that only his presence keeps at bay.

Izark moves to put me down and I won't let go. "[I'll run.]" I say, shaking my head, knowing it's true. If he lets go my wild body will take off again. He shifts me so I'm up on his hip and he bends down until his shoulder is nearly in the water. I can hear it close to my ear. I manage to loosen my grip just enough to tip my head back. He lets me slide a bit and in fear I grab his collar with my hands, but that was far enough. My head's in the water again. I'm whimpering with the fear again with every breath.

"[Noriko, don't run.]" I nod. Izark sets me down. I'm more in the water this time. He's let me hold on, my hands clenched in a death grip on his shirt and that helps. But then his hands are unclenching mine from his collar and I protest in fear. "[I'm here,]" he says as he moves my hand down to hold on to his shirt at a lower position that lets him have more freedom of motion. He takes my other hand, on the far side from him, and holds it, then sits down next to me. I hope his knife isn't on his belt. It would likely be getting soaked and rusty if it was. The cool water on my head is calming down the odd visions again and the scents aren't so strongly weird either. I float in the world of my head and in the river, holding onto my anchor, until I finally relax, then fade away.

When I wake up, I'm as weak as I was when I entered the state of living through the hell of the childhood diseases of this world. I don't think I made a sound, but Izark is instantly standing over me, a hand on my shoulder. Does he think I'm going to run again? With effort, I turn my head to look at him. It is just Izark, just the sky. I sigh and close my eyes again. I am breathing fine as well. No funny smells, just the water, wood fire, and Izark. "[I think it over, Izark.]" I say. "[Smell okay, see okay. Hear okay yesterday.]" The time reference is because I'm not sure how to say "last time".

"[Head hurt?]" he asks.

"[No. Breath okay.]" I answer. He sits down next to me with a thump, taking his hand back to rest his own head on it, his elbow up on a raised knee. I open my eyes and he is looking at me, worried even still.

Slowly I make my closer hand move to touch his. "Sheshe, Izark. [I'm sorry. You worked hard.] Sheshe." My eyes close. As I slip into recovery sleep, I feel the hand mine is on top of turn over and gently take mine, wrapping it in warmth. It doesn't register enough to remember later, except that his present warmth was still beside me.