The Poison

Morning dawned clear and pristine like every previous day in the Realms of the Gods. Daine yawned and snuggled into the warm form at her back. She heard him mumble something indistinct and shift his arm to accommodate her better. She sighed. It was nice not sleeping alone. Her bedroll had seemed impossibly empty without her People friends visiting. She had to admit though, Numair was the preferred company. She smiled remembering the night before. Numair made such a fuss she thought. About the time they had finished their supper, the question of sleeping arrangements had come up. With her bedroll gone, Daine would either have to make one of leaves and such vegetation as she could find, or she would sleep in Numair's. He wanted her to take his because he did not want her uncomfortable with her injuries (which were healed thanks to Sarra's magic), but he also knew there was no possible way he could spend the night sleeping on collected grass and leaves. Finally, after much heated debate, they had decided to share it. Which was definitely the best idea she smiled. It was nice to just lie beside him and feel his chest rise and fall with each deep and even breath. She could feel the pounding of his heart and relaxed into the same rhythm. Despite the war with Chaos and in Tortall, she was happier than she had been in a very long time.

"Good morning, my magelet," she heard him whisper softly in her ear. His arms tightened around her waist for a moment before he breathed, "It would be best if we left soon before the sun becomes too hot."

"You're right," she said as she tucked a curl behind her ear and stood up.

It did not take long for the two of them to pack and leave. Daine grabbed Numair's hand as they walked out of their shelter. He smiled and felt a weight lift off his heart. The rest of the journey would not be so bad. Before they had walked ten minutes, he could feel Daine falter and begin to move more slowly. She smiled apologetically and continued on. He knew something was wrong, but he shook his head and slowed down to match her pace. He worried silently that they would be caught out in the noon sun if they continued at this pace, but he did not push her. After all, she was probably still shaken up about the spidrens and falling.

Only about five minutes later, Daine's breathing grew short and ragged. Only seconds after that she fell as if in slow motion to the ground releasing Numair's hand and calling faintly, "Numair!"

For a moment, Numair was shocked, but he snapped out of it quickly. He kneeled beside her and lifted her head. Gently he called, "Sweet? Come on, wake up! Do not leave me. We have to get you somewhere safe, and it will be hard if you cannot help me. Daine, Daine!" There was no response.

Damn! Damn! Damn! She was fine this morning! He thought in a panic. But she wasn't. She had been trembling slightly and a bit slower than usual while she prepared to leave. She had been so determined not to show it though! Curse her! Mithros, Mynoss, and Shakith! The girl's pride will be the end of her! If it isn't already. No, no, no, NO! She will be fine!

He kissed the palm of one hand and picked her up. If only I was a healer he thought regretfully. He hurried back to the shelter they had stayed in the night before. It was secluded and safe. Not to mention it was the only suitable place he knew of. As he hurried, it seemed that every bramble and branch reach out to impede his progress. Nonsense, she's a god's daughter, why would they hinder her care? He knew he was inventing impossible ideas to make up for his helplessness, but he could not find the reasoning to care. Sooner than he thought, the grey stone of their cave appeared against the green foliage. He had not even noticed the roaring of the waterfall. He rushed inside and laid her against the entrance until he could set up the bedroll for her. The darkings were to watch her and make sure she did not worsen without him knowing. Carefully he scooped her back up and tucked her beneath the blankets.

He waited a moment, allowing sense to come back. After all, he could not help her if he could not reason. Gently he rested the back of his hand against her forehead. There was not a fever, but she was tensed with pain. With a glance in the general direction of the wood the darkings had set about collecting, he created a roaring fire. Numair set broth over it and held a canteen of water to Daine's lips. He had propped her head against his shoulder and felt it when she tried to raise her head more. "Daine, are you awake?"

"Uunnnnhhh…What happened?" she whispered.

"You fell," was all he could bring himself to say. She could hear the distress in his voice and answered, "I'm fine now."

"No, Daine, you're not. You can barely move, and you certainly cannot support yourself. No, I believe this is only the beginning."

Before long, Daine had slipped into true sleep. Numair sat beside her holding her hand. Absentmindedly he ran his thumb over her knuckles as he thought. There had to be something he could do. None of Sarra's remedies had worked, and he was beginning to believe this was something other than mortal. He was afraid he could not cure it, could not save her. He leaned over and kissed her cheek. "Sleep well, magelet."

Morning sent gold glittering in a kaleidoscope over the walls of the cave from the water outside. Numair moaned and sat up. He had spent the night on the floor next to Daine, just in case she woke up and needed something. As he ran his fingers through his hair he sighed. Daine had not woken up during the night and he could not decide if that was a good or bad sign. He kissed her cheek and went to make breakfast and more broth. Daine had developed a fever while she slept, and he was determined to bring it back down. That at least he could see and fight.

The sent of a cooking fire reached Daine's nose. The darkness drifted away and she could see Numair's outline against the glow of morning. She was so hot and something was holding her down. She couldn't move she was so tired. "Numair," she croaked through a throat dry and raspy. He was at her side in a moment. "Here, drink this. I've been working on this syrup to lower your fever, but this is the first I have been able to test it. Tell me if it helps,"

She took a hesitant sip and coughed. "It tastes horrible, Numair."

"Drink, it should help," he was adamant. He reached out and wrapped his long fingers around hers as her arms began to tremble. She rested completely against his chest as her energy reserves drifted away. He took the cup from her lax grip when it was empty and pressed his lips against her hair. She ran her bright red tongue over her cracked and bleeding lips. She shivered against him, "It's so cold, Numair."

"I'm sorry, sweet. Lie down, you need to rest."

"Don't leave me."

He looked in her eyes. Their stormy blue was glazed and heated with fever. Her eyelids drifted shut, but she fought it. "Don't worry, Daine. I'll be right here."

He curled up behind her and held her close to him. He felt her breathing finally even out until he knew she was asleep again. He kissed her feverish neck and whispered, "I love you."

It had been four days since she had fainted out in the woods. Since then, the stormwing, Rikash, had found them and asked about her. He had seen the ruin her illness was inflicting not only on her, but on Numair as well. His hair was matted and his clothes were quite obviously the same he had worn since she became sick. He had been sleeping on the floor, if he could find sleep. He had seemed almost beyond understanding the knowledge the stormwing had imparted, but Rikash had found a way.

The spidrens' web that had captured her had contained a certain poison in it. It was a venom that was only found in the Divine Realms because it was necessary to catch the animal gods. However, she was not a god, simply god born. There was a chance for her, she only had a small dose so even if her mortal side proved the weaker, then she still had that chance. Rikash had also left herbs and other components for magical aids. He did not want to lose her either. After all, there is only one Wild Mage for men, People, or immortals. No one was willing to lose her.

Another morning dawned in its everlasting cheerfulness. Numair reached out a shaky hand and touched Daine's cheek. She smiled and moved her hand onto his. "I love you," she barely whispered, but he heard.

He smiled, "I know, and I love you. Please hold on, I'm going to make you better. There has to be a cure. I know it."

She pressed her lips against his fingers. "You should – rest."

"No, I need to take care of you. I spent my entire gift working on these potions and syrups. One of them has to help." She looked at his worn and haggard face. He was losing weight she noticed with a corner of her thoughts. But so am I answered another part. "You shouldn't – have. You might – need it – later."

"I will not lose you. I will never forgive myself if I do not use every resource within my power to help you.

You need to sleep again," he said watching her struggle to keep her eyes open. "But you also need to eat. You have not touched anything all day."

"It's only morning, Numair. I – can – eat later. Will you – stay with me – longer?" she asked. He could hear how scared she sounded. After a week of being helpless and in pain, they were both beginning to understand more about what they had gotten into. This disease was burning her form the inside out, and they could not stop it. Every day she worsened, and every night she slept less. Sleep came sporadically if she could find it at all. Her dreams had begun to carry over into her waking moments, and the fever left her burning then freezing with the blankets plastered to her sweating body. Her breathing was ragged, and her lips bled. Nothing Numair did could keep her comfortable for longer than a few moments before she was ravaged by hallucinations or delirium. She was losing weight at a dangerous pace, and she could barely keep broth down. Liquids were all she could manage now. She did not even have the strength to cry anymore.

Numair moved so that her head rested in his lap. He stroked her hair and face. Then he gently began to run cold water over her throat and forehead. As he watched, he could see her forehead relax until she slept. He smiled. Last night had been particularly bad. She had screamed and ranted until her voice did not work, but he could not wake her from the dreams. Now she was sleeping peacefully. He rested his head against the wall. Maybe he could risk some sleep himself. He shut his eyes and almost immediately fell asleep.

Only moments later he felt her whole body jerk. He woke instantly and looked at her face. Beneath her eyelids, her eyes flickered rapidly. It was almost like she was trying to look at hundreds of different images at once. She did not make a single noise, but her breathing became shallower. "Sweet?" he called. He knew there would be no response but he had to try. For some reason, this scared him more than the delirium. He did not know what was happening.