Hello. I'm a horrid, horrid writer. I promise people one thing and start on some fic or other, then i get a new idea and begin writing that. I really am sorry but, alas, I can not help myself.
::Smirks:;
But I don't feel all that guilty.
I warned many people that I was going to write a fic about the sorcerers. I meant it as something of a joke most of the time, feeling I couldn't accomplish this. My muse, however, says otherwise.
Please forgive my lack of medical knowledge. I am no doctor, nor do I wish to become one. Feel free to correct my erroneous knowledge if you know anything about medicine, however.

And now, on to the story!

Bon appetite.

"Healers in Shadow" Ch 1

"You know what to do," Dirandau said.
"Yes, sir!" Gatty replied.

Gatty watched his commander stagger off. He was very worried about him. He always worried when Dirandau became ill. No one wanted Dirandau to be placed in the hands of a doctor. They knew what he went through with them. He'd be better off on his own.
Gatty told Shesta what was going on and handed his job as messenger over. He had to protect Dirandau now. There was nothing more important.

As soon as Dirandau had managed to finish dragging himself to the bed in his quarters he passed into a deep slumber. His head was warm in that fuzzy, feverish way Something that feels so comfortable but at the same time makes everything unbelievably confusing. He took comfort in knowing that nothing else would happen to him, however. He'd had quite a few fevers over the years and successfully hidden this from the doctors. All that needed to be done was for a message to be given to Strategos to let him know that Dirandau was studying to become a better leader. Doubtless, Folken was glad enough that Dirandau made any attempts to improve upon himself that he didn't question it. He had think Dirandau would commit a dereliction

Gatty stayed inside Dirandau's quarters. This was unusual, as Dirandau always maintained a high level of privacy. However, if Gatty were to remain outside, it would be suspicious. It was well-known that Dirandau was somewhat obsessed with assassins. He slept with his sword in his hand. The acoustics and positioning of the bed were such that there was no way anyone could enter his quarters without his knowledge. He was a very light sleeper and with good reason. Given this knowledge, one would have to wonder why he would post a Dragonslayer, someone he considered inferior to himself in regards to fighting skills, as his only line of defense.

Dirandau's dreams were a strange mix of bright lights and queer sounds. He couldn't make sense of anything. He felt himself in the middle of a large room, surrounded by people who weren't saying anything he could understand. He was on his knees, holding his head and wishing to hear no more, but they just wouldn't shut up! He couldn't force them to.
There were sounds of a scuffle going on, loud thuds and and angry poundings. Dirandau was now awake but he did not open his eyes. As soon as he was well enough to stand without swaying, Gatty was in for the beating of a lifetime. He should have been standing guard silent and still all this time, and mistakenly knocking something over was not acceptable, no matter how it had happened.
"Gatty!! Stop your nonsense and get back to your job!"
There was silence after this. Dirandau assumed that Gatty had listened to him. He then prepared to drift off once more. He finally managed to fall asleep when he felt something gripping on his arm. This rudeness was not appreciated in the slightest.
"Unhand me or I'll kill you," Dirandau said, very detached.
"Don't put up such a fuss," a voice replied, stone cold and uncaring.
He opened his eyes lazily, preparing to give Gatty a beating even if his fever was killing him. To his horror he discovered it was not Gatty. It was one of those horrid men that he always despised dealing with.
Dirandau held still for a moment, attempting to decide the best course of action to take. He cursed Gatty for abandoning his post and leaving him susceptible to something like this. He had never thought that they'd come to his quarters. He always had to be dragged to them.
"Leave me alone. I'm fine." Dirandau had decided to remain cool and calm until either he had an opportunity to escape them or events proved necessary that he defend himself. He didn't care to be subdued just yet and he knew that struggling would lead to that. He was having trouble enough thinking, as it was without the added inhibition of sedatives.
"That's not for you to judge," replied the sorcerer. He placed a hand on Dirandau's forehead. It was warm enough to melt ice.
"He has a fever," the sorcerer said. This information was written down for further reference.
"I'm fine! I know well enough to know that! I-"
The sorcerer tilted Dirandau's chin upwards to check his pulse in his neck. Dirandau detested any sort of prodding like this. A scowl covered his face. This was most definitely not necessary!
"Leave me alone! I was tired! I was just taking a nap. I want to go back to sleep." Dirandau said.
"Pulse is erratic, as expected."
Dirandau sighed. He was talking to no one, apparently.
"I'm perfectly fine. Absolutely terrific. You could ask my second. Ask Strategos. Go ask anybody. Just quit touching me!"
"If you're fine, how could you possibly be exhausted enough to take a nap? You hardly ever sleep as it is."
Dirandau spoke through grit teeth. "I just wanted to take a nap."
"You can take one now," the sorcerer said. He took out one of those oh-so-familiar needles which Dirandau had grown so fond of. As soon as that was seen, Dirandau's peaceable attitude was gone.
Dirandau took up the katana that always lay next to him under the sheets. He swung at the sorcerer, aiming to take his arm off. However, the sorcerers knew his behaviors and how to deal with them. They always traveled in packs and had enough people to subdue him, no matter how full of rage he was. This was a losing fight, but one that Dirandau could never give up on.
Dirandau was stopped mid-swing and forcibly held to the bed. He screamed and struggled. Though they were strong and four of them were holding him down, they still had difficulty maintaining control over him. Like it or not, he was soon injectedand drifting off. The sorcerers were exasperated with him.
"He ought to be more appreciative."
"Yes. We've put a lot of work into him. He ought to be thankful that we are so diligent in taking care of him."
They knew he had no way of knowing any better, however. He never would. That was simply his nature. They might have tried to train it out of him, but his fury was ever so useful for wartime activities
"Let's just get to work."

Dirandau awoke in a large dark room. It was so cold, so unfeeling. He was thankful that they didn't have any bright lights on him. With this fever, that would have given him such a headache.
"Ehhh..."
He groaned, his eyes squeezing together tightly. He hated the after-effects of those sedatives. His head was pounding. All he wanted was something to stop the pain. He moaned in agony.
"Keep quiet," one of the sorcerers said. He was listening to the gentle sounds of a nearby machine.
Just to spite him, Dirandau gave a cry of rage. This backfired, however, as it increased the pain of his headache. He lay down again, pressing his face to the pillow. He wanted anything but to be here.
"Look, I know you have a headache. That doesn't mean you have to disrupt our work. It will pass if you are patient."
Dirandau chucked the pillow in the sorcerer's direction. It smacked him on the head with a good deal of force.
"I hope you don't think you're getting this back," the sorcerer said, picking up the pillow and tossing it to one side.
Dirandau wasn't listening. He had his hands clasped to his head, trying to somehow block out the pain

A group of the sorcerers were in another room, discussing what was to be done.
"Well, what should we do Korrade?"
They always asked Korrade his opinion on everything. He was the senior among them and well known for his good decisions.
"Hopefully we will do nothing. However, we shall have to wait and see. This may be something more than it appears on the surface."
"I agree. He shouldn't be ill so often, but Folken reported to us that he has done this several times in the past."
Folken, unbeknownst to Dirandau, had seen the young man staggering off to his quarters and became suspicious. After seeing Gatty follow with a look that seemed more worried for Dirandau's safety than for any onslaught of violence, Folken decided to follow. Defying Gatty's protests, he looked Dirandau over. He demanded to know what was going on. Gatty couldn't lie to him. He would have been willing to let Dirandau sleep this off, seeing it as a freak occurence, were it not for Shesta coming up to him immediately after and informing him that Dirandau was taking a few days to study. Now gathering a full picture of what was going on, Folken had no choice but to report it. Dirandau was not known to catch even small illnesses. The sorcerers worked to ensure that.

"Well, we'll just have to fix his immune system, then. That's obviously what is wrong."
"No," Korrade said firmly. "There may be more to it. Don't always take the obvious answer."
"And what do you think it is, oh wise one?" Torrea replied with great sarcasm. He knew that Korrade was usually right, but for once he would have liked not to be shown to be in error.
"I have suspicions that perhaps it may be a problem with his heart," replied Korrade.
"How in the world do you come to that conclusion?" inquired Torrea.
"The heart is such an intricate creation. There is always something that could be wrong with it. We've never gotten a true reading of his pulse, now have we?" Korrade asked, slyly. "He's either drugged or so unstable that there is no possible way to tell what his heartbeat is normally."
"Yes, but problems associated with the heart would have shown themselves long before now. He would have complained of chest-pain."
"He would have in the past. However, he has become secretive. He wishes us to know nothing. We are his enemy, as he sees it. There is no telling what is wrong with him. We can't force him to tell us what he feels."
"We'll just interrogate his men, then," said Torrea. "Surely they must know something."
"I doubt he would let them know. He has a good mind for defense. He would realize that we might do something like that and therefore tell them nothing."
The youngest man on their team, Akio, rolled his eyes. He had less patience than they did and had never dealt with Dirandau before.
"So what are we supposed to do?" asked Akio.
Korrade smirked. "Wait. We keep him here under our care and wait."
Akio detested the suggestion. He was a new addition to the sorcerers. He had been studying plantlife for at least a year now and he finally got to work with a subject that didn't have leaves. And now that subject was proving to be completely exasperating. He had been under the assumption that the people of Zaibach, who greatly appreciated progress, would submit willingly to their help. He didn't come here to play games. He had joined in the hopes of discovering new things that would help his people. He was only just beginning to realize that his was a hated cause and himself a hated man.
"I say we just get rid of him. If he doesn't want to be here, then let him go. He isn't needed."
Korrade smiled at Akio's outburst. So young, so foolish.
"Akio, go to the records hall and see that everything is organized, would you?"
Akio glared at Korrade. He knew this was busy work. He -hated- busy work.
"Yes, sir," Akio said. He trudged off complaining about how he was never able to do 'real' work.
Akio was quickly forgotten, as Dirandau's case was more important.
"Just waiting won't do anything. He'll become mired in misery and most likely die," said Torrea.
"I didn't mean to leave him here with nothing. Tseko, I want you to talk to him."
"I shall, sir," Tseko replied eagerly. He was also one of the younger men on the team. He was much more willing to submit to orders, however. He knew that if he were belligerent as Akio was, he would neither learn or accomplish anything.
Terrea had reservations about this, however.
"He shouldn't be charged with something like this. He's too inexperienced."
"Yes, but his main strength is psychological knowledge. You know nothing of how people think, Torrea, and while that is not a failing point considering your vast medical knowledge, it does pose a problem in this case."
"Do forgive me, all-knowing Korrade. I suppose I should excuse myself for not wanting one of our most important experiments to fail because of someone inexperienced fooling around with it."
"You are forgiven," Korrade said. He knew that Torrea was only being sarcastic but that didn't mean he couldn't reply.
Torrea shook his head, smiling slightly. His and Korrade's arguments were friendly, in most respects. Terrea knew that Korrade was indeed more intelligent than he was. He was just a little stubborn at admitting it.
Dirandau had been too belligerent earlier and earned himself another round of sedatives. When he awoke this time, his head was not only pounding, it was screaming at him as well. He lay for an hour staring at the ceiling. He was unable to do anything else. Attempting to talk was impossible for him now.

"I...I need a painkiller.." he asked shakily. The pain had subsided just enough to let him talk.
"That would do you no good," replied Tseko.
"No, you don't understand...I need something. Pain...I need the pain to go away."
Tseko pitied him in his confusion. However, he knew that Dirandau had brought this on himself by fighting.
"The pain will go away in time."
"Don't give me anymore..."
"We try not to."
"Yes you do."
"We just want to take care of you."
Dirandau didn't reply to that. He couldn't bear to listen to such lies.

He curled over on his side away from Tseko. He remained silent for several more hours. The headache had worn down considerably by this time.
"How do you feel?" Tseko asked.
Dirandau glared at him.
"Like killing someone," Dirandau replied, in no way humorous.
"You can do that when you are well."
"I am well! At least I would be if you'd quit giving me whatever that stuff is!"
"We wouldn't give you sedatives if you would cooperate with us."
"I won't do anything you say. You're going to torment me no matter what, so I'm not going to. I'm not talking to you anymore!"
"You hate me that much?" Tseko asked, affecting more sympathy than he shared. He hoped to appeal to Dirandau's sense of pity. If he could make Dirandau see him as someone who was merely doing his job, then perhaps Dirandau would feel bad for him. Had he worked with Dirandau longer he would have realized that Dirandau held no such sense.
Dirandau covered his head with the quilt he had been given. He ignored that damned sorcerer as best he could.
Tseko could see that he wasn't getting anywhere with pity.
"I had best go for fear, then," Tseko though to himself.
"And what of your men? Do you care nothing for them?" Tseko asked with an ominous tone in his voice. He hit the intended mark. Dirandau bolted out of the bed. He stared at Tseko with great rage as well as sorrow. He had his hands at Tseko's throat.
"You're not doing anything to them! You've done far too much to me. Don't you dare involve them!!"
"Ah, but if you don't cooperate, we can't let you go. That means you can't see them, which further means you'll never know what's happened to them."
"What have you done to them?" Dirandau asked, instantly assuming that the sorcerers must have taken them all in and were currently tormenting them. Or worse, but Dirandau didn't dare to think of what other unspeakablethings could be done.

Tseko smirked. His theories were working admirably thus far.
"How will you know if you kill me?"
Dirandau removed his hands. He walked over to the bed and sat down on it. He stared at the floor. His voice became quiet.
"What have you done to them?" He repeated. He seemed on the verge of defeat. Tseko decided to pursue his line of questioning.
"My questions first. Then yours. Why didn't you tell anyone you were sick?"
"What have you done to them?!"
"Why didn't you tell anyone you were sick?"
"Tell me what's going on!!!!"
Tseko leaned forward, supporting himself by bracing his arm against his leg. He removed his ever-present glasses and rubbed his forehead. Dirandau wasn't going to be easy as he had thought.
"I told you I would tell you as soon as you answered my question."
"Tell me now!"
"Why should I tell you?" Tseko asked, idly rubbing his eye.
"Just shut up and tell me!"
"You're begging to be put to sleep again. I hope you know that."
Dirandau shrieked in frustration. This was not a hard concept to understand. He didn't belong here. He wasn't ill. He was absolutely perfect. There was nothing they needed to work on.
"Let me make things perfectly clear to you. Until you are ready to do as I say and be helpful to me, you don't have any priveliges . No one will tell you anything. You won't get anything to eat. You won't get any sleep. And if you insist upon being violent, as seems to be the way you are leaning, no one here has any qualms about strapping you down."
Tseko replaced his glasses.
"Why didn't you tell anyone you were sick?"
Dirandau lay his head against the wall. He stared at nothing, despondent. His words had a tearful pull to them, almost as if he were inhaling instead of exhaling to create them.
"What have you done with my men?"
"I'll let you figure that out."
Tseko closed his book and rose from his chair. He walked towards the door. Dirandau glanced at him out of the corner of his eye.
"Where are you going?" he asked.
"To go work with someone who will actually cooperate."
"Hmph."
Dirandau was glad to see that the idiotic sorcerer was leaving, but he still wanted to know what was going on.
"No one will be by here until tomorrow morning. That leaves you ten hours. I trust you will be more cooperative by then."
Dirandau shut his eyes.
"The only way I'll let you do anything to me without resistance is if you kill me."
"Is that a request?" Tseko inquired.
Dirandau replied in a mocking tone. "I'll let you figure it out."

The first thing that Tseko did was to talk to Korrade. He explained how uncooperative Dirandau was. He was a bit nervous, not wanting to be taken off of this project.
"I...I know I can do this, sir! I just need more time." He was able to refrain himself from adding 'Please don't take take me off of this!'
Korrade nodded sagely.
"I trust that you can as well. I wouldn't have entrusted such responsibility to you otherwise."
Tseko smiled. He was indeed eager to do his job.
"Thank you, sir! I will not disappoint you. I've planned to leave him alone with his thoughts for a time. I don't think he fares well when he is alone."
"You are indeed insightful. That was a constant complaint of his when he was younger. He doesn't voice it much now, for fear that we will force solitary confinement on him. There is no reason to think that he feels otherwise now."
"I just hope that he calms down by tomorrow. He is quite the intolerable brat when he's angry."
"You are lucky you didn't have to deal with him when he was younger. The advent of giving him men to lead has changed that considerably. He now has something important to lose."
"Isn't that a bit dangerous? I mean, they are soldiers. There's a chance they could die."
"It is a bit dangerous without control. However, we have carefully monitored them. There is no soldier in the Dragonslayers which is not in above-averagehealth. Dirandau helps us out quite a bit by demanding perfection in everything they do, particularly in battle skills. Their loyalty has been said to be truly unbreakable. There is also a set standard by which the odds of their attaining victory is measured. If the odds are not great enough, they are not allowed to fight. Barring an unforeseeable disaster, they will not die or leave him."
"I see," said Tseko. He felt relieved. He would hate to think that this experiment might fail for something that would happen in the blink of an eye.
The conversation was interrupted by a persistent messenger.
"Lord Korrade, I have a message from Strategos Folken," the messenger said. He waited for the permission needed to read the message.
Korrade's eyes narrowed.
"Don't bother reading it. I hate his writing style. Just tell me what he wants to know."
"He wishes to be updated on the situation with the captain."
"Updated?" Korrade exclaimed, indignant.
"Yes, sir," the messenger asked, not taking a chance on whether or not that was a rhetorical question.
"You tell him that he'll learn nothing untilwe see fit to tell him and that the captain will be returned as soon as we are finished taking care of him."
"Yes, sir." The messenger turned on his heels to leave.
"Oh! And add this as a post-script: I hope it is a nice change of pace for you to be on the receiving end for awhile."
The messenger was a bit confused at that, but trusted that Strategos Folken would know what Korrade meant.
Korrade folded his arms, shaking his head.

"Folken never did learn manners. He doesn't tell us anything unless we force him to, and then demands that we tell him everything? I don't follow his excuse that we wouldn't know what a soldier's life entails and therefore don't need to be informed. He should keep us just as well informed if he expects it to go the other way around."
"In that respect, he seems much like Dirandau, sir."
"I wouldn't doubt that he's added to the problem, which is a shame. He has some very bad habits that I'd rather he not be teachingDirandau."
"Everyone here mentions him once in awhile, but I really don't know much about him," Tseko said. He was quite interested, but he was afraid to ask.
"Oh, he's a very strange man. He's the only one I've ever met that didn't hate his first year here. Everyone else despises studying plants when they know they could be studying something more interesting, usually humans. He only began giving us trouble when he was forced to switch gears and begin the real work."
"He didn't like the work?"
"I don't know if he did or not. Honestly, the man couldn't keep his story straight if his life depended on it! The only thing I could ever know for sure was that he had a deep respect for Emperor Dornkirk. Other than that...well..I don't know. He showed great promise. He holds great wisdom and often showed it. I'll never forget the time that Torrea put a scalpel to his throat because he'd used just one metaphor too many."
"So he didn't get along with anyone here?"
"He did and he didn't. At times he was very agreeable, but he was so moody. More like a woman than anything else."
Korrade rolled his eyes. He was a confirmed misogynist.
"Why did he leave?"
"It wasn't an enjoyable event and I'm certain he's done his best to forget it."
Korrade sighed.
"He left because he was on the verge of becoming insane. It wasn't unexpected. He was always a bit unstable. He had been asked to help with an experiment and flatly refused to do it. When asked why, he said that there was still more work to be done with the plants. I allowed him to leave, but kept an eye on him. I could tell he was lying, as he wasn't very good at it back then. A reasonable person would have just told me, but he wasn't usually very reasonable. Our subjects are difficult to get answers from, but he was much worse because he knew how to play the game of interrogation. I honestly have no idea what he was trying to accomplish by placing one lie on top of another. I finally gave up and left him alone."
Korrade crossed one leg over the other and leaned back in his chair.
"I did care about him and did not want to see him fail. He had shown such promise, if only he could get over himself. I gave him a few days to think things over. He always seemed to do well when given time to himself. This time was different, I suppose. When he came back, he seemed fine. He was his usual self again. He even agreed to participate in the work that he was supposed to be doing. He managed a few experiments with no problems, but he began acting peculiar again. He was in the middle of giving a subject a dosage of sedatives when he stopped and flatly refused to continue."
"What was his excuse this time?"
"He didn't give me one. He just took the needle back out and walked out of the room. I followed, letting Torrea take over the experiment. What followed was not a happy memory. He became very belligerent with me. He proceeded to tell me everything that he couldn't stand about this place, everything that was wrong with it. He had no interest in scientific endeavors anymore. They were useless, he said. I pointed out to him our science had helped him a great deal by replacing his arm. At that point, he stared at me. He just stared...I don't remember how long. I asked him what was wrong. When he finally began talking, I regretted ever knowing him. He's said things to me that you wouldn't believe and that I would like to forget. I told him to cease his talking. He seemed to forget I was in charge, however. He lectured me for quite some time before deciding he would rather leave. I told him to remain where he was, hoping that some measure of authority might cause him to remember his place and calm down. He began walking away again. I ordered him to keep still. I think he just didn't want to follow my orders."
"So he just walked away like that? Not saying anything to you ever again?"
Korrade laughed.
"Oh, no, no. I wasn't going to let him leave. As I said, I saw potential in him. He just needed a few issues straightened out. However, he had no intention of letting me do that. I followed him one more time. He rounded on me, grabbing me by the shoulders and ramming me into a wall. I didn't think he'd ever try to hurt me, asI had seen how much he abhorred violence. But, nevertheless, he gave me a beating to be remembered."
Korrade unbuttoned his cloak and and part of his uniform. He removed part of it at the shoulder. He arched his neck to the left to show off some very horrid looking scars. Tseko looked on, mortified. Korrade put his uniform back together slowly.
"Had he not left of his own compulsion, he most likely would have had to besedated and locked up. He went directly to Emperor Dornkirk and told him what had happened. I honestly don't know how he got away with it, considering that he was most likely screaming at him, but he did. He was transferred to a ship and allowed to take up that previously non-existent title of Strategos."
"If he's so unstable, why is he allowed to remain? And with such power, no less?"
"Because he can be persuasive if he sets his mind to it. Even if you know he's wrong, you can't prove it. And that is his main skill and weapon."
Korrade sighed.
"I suggest you stay as far away from him as we do. He is a lost soul."
"Yes, sir," Tseko said in agreement.
Korrade clapped his hands to his thighs, preparing to stand up.
"I think you ought to get to work. It might help you to prepare some ammunition to use on Dirandau before you go to see him again. And make sure you get some rest. You'll be better at defeating him if you aren't tired."
Tseko nodded and then rose from the table.
"I will keep you posted on how my work progresses, sir," said Tseko.
"Good. I have every hope that you'll do well," Korrade replied, a smirk growing on his face. "After all, we wouldn't want to let Torrea think he is right for once, would we?"
Tseko smiled, shaking his head 'no'.
Korrade watched him walk away. Tseko was such a bright young man. He was lucky to be here in a place that sheltered him. Then, perhaps, his light would not grow dim.
He prayed the young man would fulfill his potential.