Chapter 23: Memento Mori
Then.
thud. thud.
Some time ago.
The tavern of the Blue Recluse had grown quiet in the late hours, virtually all of the people staying or working within it having gone to bed. For those who kept late hours, hanging around a virtually empty bar was not their idea of fun, and as a result, said late-night employees were mostly clustered around the chef's preparation area in the back, playing cards and gossiping.
It suited Silonna Slightedge fine, the gnome rogue striking a match to light her personal candles. The tavern room did offer some light, but not enough for her tastes. Especially not for what she had to do, as she finished lighting her personal source of illumination and pinched the match closed between her two fingers.
Her personal backpack rested on the floor beside her seat: from it, the gnome took a length of treated leather. Spreading it out before her, she produced the several knives she currently used and laid them down on the covering. After checking them over for damage or rust, she slipped a sharpening stone from her belt and ran it over the blades until the edges were honed to hair-splitting perfection.
With that done, she turned to the difficult task, reaching into her backpack and carefully looking through it for a hidden, reinforced pocket. The small container she removed from it was far tougher than it looked: the average Azeroth adventurer would have had to stomp on it repeatedly to damage it and its contents. With a flick of her wrist, Silonna produced a tiny key and opened it the proper way, withdrawing the three vials within before she turned back to her work.
She was not startled to see Zackel there when her eyes finally set on him. She'd heard him coming long before she'd arrived.
"…Wintersoul." Silonna said, her normally flighty, chirpy personality currently sitting in the back of her mind. She was working now, and that demanded she calm down certain aspects of her gnomish heritage.
"Silonna." Zackel said, keeping his reaction to the rogue's strangely neutral tone to himself. "You busy?"
"Not too much." Silonna said.
"Mind if I sit?"
"You can sit, but please keep away from the table." Silonna said, placing the three vials in front of her.
"Right." Zackel said, taking a nearby chair and turning it around, sitting a few feet from the gnome and her work. Silonna did not look at him, as she was running her hand through her green, upwards-flaring bangs, making sure the hair was out of her eyes. Once she'd done that, she reached into her backpack once more and produced a second glove to match the one on her right hand.
"…Zackel, let's not beat around the bush. If this is about your brother…" Silonna said.
"It is. Somewhat."
"…mage, just understand. You are a valuable ally, and I even consider you a friend. But I don't need or care for your opinion, if it comes to that." Silonna said, looking directly at the mage's face. Zackel blinked a few times.
"…you know, if you hadn't warned me off, I might poke you a few times to make sure you're the real Silonna." Zackel said.
"If you want to talk to the 'real' Silonna, Zackel, then having a conversation over breakfast would be better. Right now, I'm doing my job." Silonna said.
"Then I'll get it out of the way." Zackel said. "And be truthful. Yes, Silonna, I was a little bothered at first."
"Why?"
"Well…the general viewpoint of gnomes is…well, you can relate them to children in a lot of ways. Their curiosity, their exploration, their…sometimes apparent lack of common sense…" Zackel said, the gnome giving him a dull glare. "Combine that with their size, and well…you can draw some disturbing possibilities."
"But…?" Silonna said.
"People like the kind that the gnome equals children mindset is talking about…well, men I guess, from the little I've heard of them…they're wrong in the head. Just what and how, I can't say…but from the little I know, they tend to act in a certain way. Tend to have…trouble interacting in a normal fashion if it goes beyond the surface." Zackel said. "Whatever I know about Daldion, I know he's not like that. In my home town, he chased virtually anything with a skirt. Maybe he could use that as a cover for a casual acquaintance…but not for me. Especially since he kept doing it as we've progressed."
"I remember." Silonna said.
"So quite frankly, if you two have…well, then it's quite clear that you're a woman. Cut from a different cloth, maybe…but not the kind of difference that people should be alarmed about. Anything else is really none of my business unless you decide it is."
"…it's nice to know that brain of yours doesn't suffer from selective myopia." Silonna said, her face softening considerably. "It's a bad habit I've noticed among the smart."
"Not easy to be intelligent. But that's another story." Zackel said. "So we're all right then?"
"Of course, Kel. In fact, I have some friends of mine you might want to meet…"
"Whoa whoa whoa. Let's not make acceptance do too much work here. That never works out too well." Zackel said.
"As you wish." Silonna said. "How's that hair dye you made working out?"
"Pretty well." Zackel said, ruffling his blue locks. "I'd offer to help you with what you're currently doing, but I suspect I'd just get in the way."
"Smart man." Silonna said, having finally turned back to her vials. "I repeat, though, please keep your hands and legs away from the table. I don't want to have even the slightest risk I could spill this on it. Or you."
"That potent?"
"Even more then you could realize, mage and alchemist. There are secrets of my breed that only we know." Silonna said, removing the stopper of one of the vials. "Maybe some don't like us for it, but I don't have time for them either."
"Can I ask you a question then?"
"Maybe." Silonna said, as she began to lightly douse one of her blades with the odorless liquid.
"If it's that strong, why do you keep re-applying it?" Zackel said. "I might be an adept in the ways of chemistry, but even I would think that something like that wouldn't degrade so fast. I mean, it's not just that you do this whenever we get back into a stable area. I've seen you do it out in the field, fel, sometimes in the middle of battle. Doesn't really match."
"That's because you're not a rogue, Kel." Silonna said. "You're right. These toxins don't degrade quickly. I refresh them on a constant basis to be kind."
"Kind?"
"It's what those of us who took up this calling to help and serve, rather than more…distasteful reasons, do." Silonna said, before holding up her knife. "With the poison I've just applied, I could use this weapon for three months and not have to worry about applying fresh venom. It would kill. The difference is how long it would take."
"So it's partially a defense thing."
"Somewhat. But when you're like us, Zackel, the difference between a foe dying in a few seconds and several minutes tends to matter little. Barring certain circumstances, of course." Silonna said. "I am not cruel. Whatever I want to kill, I wish to kill it fast. For my sake and theirs. With this technique, my enemies barely feel much of anything before their bodies shut down. So I keep the poison fresh."
"And the cruel ones don't."
"Our concoctions take no risks. Should they enter your system, you will die. But the longer the poison rests on the blade, the longer it will take. Even more so if the weapon has been improperly or purposely treated with lesser amounts of poison then is recommended. Stab someone with a weapon like that, and the victim will take hours to die. Sometimes days." Silonna said. "It's generally not recommended. Only the more potent detoxification spells or treatments could likely counteract our agents, and while people who have that level of skill, in magic or alchemical medicine, aren't very common, they do exist. Hurt someone in that fashion, and you run the risk of them surviving."
"But only with outside aide."
"That's why any smart adventurer either befriends one and brings one along, or drinks prepared counter-agents before they set out into any task that might have you run into a rogue. Some people claim it's a conspiracy or some sort of fraud, but it's their dice to roll. No one in all our records has ever successfully overcome our arts by themselves. They either had the Light, or their or someone else's chemical skills, or both, as an assist…or they died. As said, the reasons people don't like us are not all undeserved." Silonna said. "I like you though, Zackel. So I'll share a little trick with you, in case you ever run afoul of someone who doesn't. Smell this."
Zackel looked at the vial the gnome offered, before cautiously leaning over and taking a sniff.
"…don't smell anything."
"You wouldn't. No one would. Not even druids or the best-trained hunting pets." Silonna said, sealing up the vial and reaching into her poison container, withdrawing another one. "Now, smell this."
This time, the vial did have a scent, a faint but memorably bitter one.
"This difference between the two is the first one is freshly made. This one's several months old. Started to break down." Silonna said. "If I got some of the first into your system, even a drop, you'd likely be unconscious before you could get out the door and dead soon after. Some of this, though? It'd take a lot longer and be a lot more painful. But, that also means we could fetch a priest, or whatnot."
"And if I didn't have a priest, or whatnot?" Zackel said.
"Then the Light help you." Silonna said, her tone solemn. "Because nothing else will."
Now.
It was amazing how cruel some memories were when they returned, brought up in a fresh context.
Said memories dominated Zackel's mind, spurred on by the terrible fear the mage had felt when he'd seen his Draenei companion collapse and realized just how. A small part, deep down, had already begun turning over the mystery of how rogue poison had gotten on ogre crossbow bolts, but it was likely going to have to wait a long time to present its findings, if ever. For now, the far more potent disaster had full reign over the mage's mind and heart.
They were trapped in the castle. There was absolutely no way Zackel could drag Rielle to the Southshore or whatever the nearest safe-spot was, no matter how desperate and determined he might have been to do so. And even with said urgent problem driving him on, Zackel doubted it would help him solve the issue of his out of control storm that had trapped them there…
Trapped Rielle here. Trapped her with her damaged armor. If she had been free, she could have gone to a blacksmith. Could have had the armor repaired, the crossbow nub discovered. Instead, she'd continued on with it until the deadly weapon had finally lived up to its purpose.
She was going to die and when the chips were down, when all reason and excuses had been placed, it was Zackel's fault.
…like FEL.
"Rielle?" Zackel said, leaning over and holding the Draenei by the shoulders. He did not remember dragging the alien to the wall. All he could see was the dullness settling into her eyes, feel the heat beginning to bloom under his hands. The poison, even in such a small amount, worn down by age, being on an 'untraditional' weapon, and having undergone the slow progress of making its way through Rielle's metal boot, was starting to go to work. Even as strong as Rielle was, it would slowly strip out everything that created and drove that strength until she was helpless, and then it would take everything else, leaving her nothing more then cooling meat.
Unless he did something. Unless he did everything in his power and knowledge to stop it. He was not a priest, and the Light had not blessed him with the ability to heal with its grace and majesty…but it had given him a keen mind and a knack for chemistry. He could do something.
He had to.
"Ohhhh…you bugger. You did this to finally beat me in a fight, didn't you? Cheating mage bastard…" Rielle slurred.
"Rielle, listen to me. I know you have some technique to slow your heart rate. Do it now, and do it as best you can. We need to bog down this shit as much as possible." Zackel said. Said technique was technically to aid with blood loss, if Zackel remembered the bits and pieces of melee combat he'd heard discussed over campfires and in inns, but Zackel didn't see how it wouldn't help prevent poison-spreading.
"What are you…going to do…"
"I'm going to try and mix up a counter-agent. It won't CURE you, but…it'll give you a better chance….a chance." Zackel said.
"…do it…" Rielle said. "Don't worry about me…"
"Oh please, I'm too busy being annoyed at you for being such a bother." Zackel said, holding out a hand. He let the world drop away, everything save his power. Making this counter-agent would be a lot harder then the one he'd created to purge Rielle's system the previous night (Oh when that and her temper had seemed to be his greatest problem). For one, he'd need an aspect of Rielle he hadn't needed before: blood.
Specifically, blood tainted by the rogue poison. And he couldn't get it by probing the wound with his finger. Not only would that likely get the poison in his system as well (a bullet he'd already dodged when handling the crossbow nub, something Zackel tried not to think about), but it wouldn't give him enough material. He needed more.
And he didn't have a proper tool to withdraw it: while he'd gotten a surprising amount of basic medical training during his alchemical learning (when one was in the business of creating potions, it was good to know what could go wrong and how to tell the degrees of wrong apart), it wasn't enough that he'd taken to carrying the tools of doctors. So, lacking an 'official' item, Zackel's only option was clear.
Make it.
And hope that all the times he'd spent crafting items out of ice and his lesser dabbling in gnomish engineering and its fondness for odd tools finally served him well.
"Come on…" Zackel whispered, as the makeshift ice syringe began to form between his fingers. He didn't need it to last long: just long enough for him to withdraw some tainted blood and get it in a vial. Between that, and the crossbow bolt tip, he would hopefully have enough to work with.
If there was anything he could actually do.
The near-minute Zackel spent forming the syringe seemed more like an hour, until the world finally returned to his sense of awareness. Zackel turned the ice tool over in his fingers. Nothing left to do but test it.
"Rielle?"
"Yeah?"
"I'm going to get some blood from your wound. It's going to hurt. Brace yourself and try and keep your heart rate down."
"Please mage like you could-UGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" Rielle groaned between clenched teeth as Zackel inserted the needle of ice into her wound. Zackel tried not to pay attention, focusing on finding the punctured vein and withdrawing blood and what he'd come for into his syrine's crystalline shaft. Sweat beaded on his brow as he forced the ice to stay completely pristine despite the heat of his hand, Rielle's body, and the liquid he was drawing into it.
The process took nearly another minute. After twenty seconds, Rielle's hand had found Zackel's shoulder. After forty, he was certain her fingernails were about to start scraping on bone.
"Got it." Zackel said, withdrawing the needle.
"Ah, weerku…why not take the rest!" Rielle hissed.
"Not needed." Zackel said, immediately standing up and sprinting over to the room's table and his alchemical devices. He located a vial, checked it for cleanliness (he couldn't risk contaminants), and then drained the blue liquid from the ice syringe into it. Sealing up the vial, he picked up a tiny pair of tongs from his small engineering toolkit and dashed back over to where he'd let the crossbow nub fall. He located it after a dozen seconds of frantic searching, sealing it in another vial.
"Rielle." Zackel said, returning to the Draenei's side.
"Hurts…"
"I know. Rielle, listen." Zackel said. "If it's hurting, that's good. It won't FEEL good, but it means your tissues are reacting to the poison. Still alive. If you start going numb, if your legs start feeling heavy…well, I don't plan to let it get that far."
"Why don't you just…put your mouth on it and suck it out?"
"That's a myth, Rielle. Even if I got some, it wouldn't be enough, and it would very likely poison ME in the process." Zackel said. "I'm going to try and brew an antidote. Stay calm, and keep your heart rate as slow as possible. If you feel like you're about to pass out, or start getting numb…call me."
"Oh sure…I'll call you over…make sure I get one good smack in before your treachery does me in…" Rielle said. The attempted good nature of the words struck at Zackel more deeply then any bitterness, misplaced or not, could have.
"Hang in there. I don't know how long this will take." Zackel said, standing up and heading back onto the table. If he'd had more oversight, he would have been amazed how quickly he got every single alchemical chemical and product he had laid out on the table; he'd never been one for speedy assembly. With the last, most crucial items placed in front of him (that being the three and a half remaining healing potions he had left), Zackel did one last quick once over of the material, glanced back at Rielle to make sure she hadn't drifted off unexpectedly, and then turned back.
First, he'd have to get a read on the poison. Zackel got two sampling dishes out, placing Rielle's blood in one and the poisoned arrow tip in the other. He added a chemical to both, and while he waited for the proper reaction to start he quickly got six empty vials out. Three types of chemicals went into three separate vials, making a pair of each. Retrieving a small stopper, Zackel drew up some of the hissing mix that Rielle's blood and his test chemical had become, adding a few drops to three of the vials. Stopping the three up, he turned to the dish that had the poisoned crossbow tip in it, doing the same with the other three vials. With all six sealed, Zackel began studying the results.
Several minutes later, Zackel had a rough idea of what he could do. After a few more minutes testing what remained of Rielle's blood in another fashion, a plan had fully formed.
There was a rough antidote he could make, with odds of about sixty percent success. However, he only had enough of the vital herbs, dusts, and whatnot to make two doses at most, with one being far more likely. Worse, as far as antidotes went, it was pretty substandard. But without it, barring a near-miracle, Rielle would die.
There was also the fact that he'd have to use the healing potions as a base, and by the nature of his antidote he'd be using up all the materials one needed to make more; he wouldn't be able to mix up anything to help with later trouble. But Zackel would burn that bridge when he came to it…
"Zackel…" Rielle said quietly. "I think…my throat is closing up…"
"Shit." Zackel said, dashing back over to Rielle and feeling at her neck. The tissues did seem to be swelling some. "Okay hold on…one second…"
The cream Zackel whipped up in the next forty seconds made his margin of error even smaller, but Zackel didn't think of that part as he created it and headed back over to the Draenei to apply it.
"That should help. Keep it from completely sealing up, in any case." Zackel said. "Rielle, I may have something. Hold on a little longer."
"Sure…take your time…" Rielle said, her eyes losing focus and drifting off. Zackel watched the Draenei for a few more seconds and then immediately returned to his table. He took a few seconds himself to slow his breathing and find his center.
…Light. I've never asked for anything, I always felt I've been given enough…but…if you don't deem it worthwhile that what I've learned serve me as best it can…at least let me know I did everything in my power.
Opening his eyes, Zackel got to work. Once again, the world fell away.
When awareness returned, Zackel found himself soaked with sweat. He hadn't even noticed, his attention focused entirely on his antidote. Now it, and a respective tincture, rested in two vials before him, one yellow, one a light pink.
He'd used up two full healing potions in his efforts, leaving him with one and a half for future use. Zackel wiped his forehead with his robe and turned to the ice block he'd frozen his syringe construct in the middle of. A quick bit of precision magic made it crack in half, and Zackel took the syringe and returned to Rielle, who lay limply against the wall.
"Rielle?" Zackel said. Surely he hadn't been so buried in his task that he would not have noticed the one he was trying to help slipping away.
"Tired…" Rielle said.
"Rielle, I have the counteractant. It's in two parts, oral and intravenous. You're going to have to drink the first part. Do you need help?"
"…yes…" Rielle said.
"Okay…hold on…I got you…" Zackel said, lightly taking Rielle's head and tilting it back, opening her mouth as he brought up the yellow vial. He popped its cover with his thumb and carefully tipped the liquid into the Draenei's mouth. The fact that she barely reacted to the likely foul-as-fel mix was something he tried to ignore.
"Okay…that's done. Now the other…Rielle, this is going to hurt." Zackel said, as he expected the puncture zone. A fist size area around the wound had swelled, the flesh turning a sickly green color. Not rotting, but not healthy. "I think some of the toxin is still in the entry zone. I've got to inject the main part of the antidote into the wound. It won't be fun. Brace yourself, and do your best not to move."
"I don't care…about pain…just make sure…you get it done right…"
"I will." Zackel said, carefully using his ice syringe to draw the pink liquid up. Discarding the empty vial, he carefully probed at the swollen area until he located the puncture wound. Having sterilized his fingers before he'd come over, Zackel carefully used his thumb and primary finger to shift the hole's size. It wasn't the neatest process, but it was the best he could do with his limited medical training.
"Here we go." Zackel said, and inserted the needle in.
A few seconds after, Rielle screamed. Had she been at full strength, her cry could have caused legitimate damage to Zackel's eardrum, but the poison had stripped her muscles and lungs of its power, leaving her only able to produce a thin, reedy moan.
To Zackel, though, it might have been the worst sound he'd ever heard. Maybe the scream of his mother as she began to be cooked over a gnoll's campfire and the agonized cry his brother had made when he'd lost his arm were greater, but Rielle's noise of pain was definitely among their ranks.
At least this time, the noise came from his best efforts. If he had anything, he had that.
"Done." Zackel said, withdrawing the ice needle.
"Oh Light…oh…I'll never…yell at a priest…to hurry up with the healing…again…" Rielle said, her breathing having sped up.
"Hold on. I'll wrap the wound." Zackel said, returning to his table to get a bandage that he doused with some of their remaining healing potion. Rielle was silent as he wrapped her injury, her breathing having slowed back down.
"…okay." Zackel said. "It's done. Now we go from here."
"What…happens now." Rielle said.
"The last time you ate was last night, right?"
"Yes…"
"That will help…" Zackel said, grateful he hadn't gotten around to making breakfast before this had happened. "Okay Rielle. I did my best with what I had. What I've given you will hopefully, HOPEFULLY, partially neutralize the poison in your system. Weaken it enough so that your body can break it down."
"…and how long…will that take?"
"…it won't be quick." Zackel said. "If I had more medicine or was a healer the process would be…easier…but as is, it's going to be…very, very unpleasant."
"…how will you know…if it's not working?"
"Like I said. Numbness. Coldness. Everything else…will be a side effect of the battle to come."
"Heh…suddenly your master cold…doesn't seem so kind now…does he?" Rielle said.
"…no. I guess not." Zackel said, as he slipped in close. "Rielle, listen to me. You can overcome this."
"Oh sure…I'd look pretty silly if I couldn't…"
"Rielle, it doesn't matter who you are. Not under these circumstances." Zackel said. "This will be hard. But I will be here, every step of the way. I will do everything I can to help you through this. Strength, self-sufficiency…those are not the only players here. Whatever is to come, no matter what happens, you are not alone."
"…heh…oh great…" Rielle said. "Without me to provide a controlling factor…oh lord, you'll probably be blabbing terrible freeform poetry within twelve hours…might just…make wish…I was dead…"
A deep shudder ran through Rielle. The opening stages of the war within her was starting to gear up.
"But…if I had to ask…I can't think of anyone else who…I'd go through this with." Rielle said. "Bring it on."
Zackel didn't know how much Rielle regretted her choice of words, but he suspected it was quite a bit when, not an hour later, she started vomiting blood.
Journal Entry #457
Harsh nature of medicine multi-faceted: in order to swiftly be absorbed by her stomach, it's ended up eating away at its lining. In between a deep, constant burning, Rielle's thrown up bloody gastric liquid a few times. I've tried to give her a few drops of healing elixir to help, but it doesn't seem to be helping with either the pain or the vomiting itself.
She's quiet now, but I doubt it's over this quickly. But I made a promise, and I expect to keep it.
The issue that comes to mind is not what that will cost me, but what it might, in her head, cost her.
"Ahhhhhhh…" Rielle said. "Hurts…"
"What hurts Rielle?"
"Eyes hurt…light…too bright…" Rielle said. The fact that when Zackel came to her side and checked her face only to find her eyes tightly squeezed shut did not comfort him much.
"Rielle I need to check…let me check…"
With a low groan, Rielle opened her eyes. The light within was flickering oddly, and a few times Zackel swore he could see spots of green blooming in the illumination.
"Can you see me? How many fingers am I holding up?" Zackel said, holding up three.
"Three…ow…" Rielle said, closing her eyes again.
"Give me a second Rielle. Just one second…" Zackel said, quickly heading to his alchemical materials. Impressing himself with his speed, he quickly managed to create an eyedrop-type relief (but anything in that vein wasn't going to be in the cards much longer, with the lack of supplies he had), returning to the Draenei and administering it.
"This should help." Zackel said, tearing another strip off his robe (a tiny part of his lamenting the repair costs he'd be faced with when he returned to civilization) and tying it around her eyes. "I'll check in an hour."
"Zackel…"
"Yeah?"
"How long has it been?"
"…I'd say about eight hours. Give or take."
"…wonderful." Rielle said softly. Zackel couldn't recall a more improper use of the word.
Entry #458
The eyes, at least, were relieved, but other symptoms remain. There's been a little more vomiting, which is starting to be combined with a nasty cough. At least the mucus and sputum Rielle's hacking up doesn't have blood in it any more. That's something I guess.
I'm going to draw some blood in a little while, try and see if my antidote is having any effect…
I don't know what I will do if I find out it's not.
Maybe do my best to comfort her, I suppose.
Zackel had just been resting his eyes, or so he thought, when Rielle's voice reached him, causing him to jerk up.
"-kel!" Rielle called. "Help…"
"What is it?"
"Need…washroom…" Rielle said. "Can't…move…muscles won't work…"
"On it." Zackel said. His first, brief effort to lift Rielle confirmed he wasn't going to be able to get her to their proper lavatory: he wasn't strong enough to move that much dead weight. "Netherspit. Rielle, we're going to have to improvise."
"…how?" Rielle asked, as Zackel's eyes darted around the room and settled on the washing tub.
"Come on…over here…" Zackel said, getting his shoulder beneath Rielle's arm and dragging her up. He couldn't bring her all the way to the actual washroom, but he would be damned if he couldn't move her several feet. Which he did, aiding her to the washing tub and helping her prop herself on the edge.
Zackel really didn't know if Rielle was too out of it or distracted by her other troubles enough to feel any shame at what came next. For his part, Zackel did his best to block out all the extenuating aspects of the situation and focus entirely on the mechanics.
Just to be sure, once Rielle was done and back down on her bedding, he waited until she was asleep before he cleaned up and took samples from her business.
Part of him wondered who would find the whole event harder to forget.
Entry #459
I can't really tell much. The readings I got from her urine MIGHT indicate a higher level of toxins then normal…but I lack the equipment to tell for sure. Her alien nature doesn't help: her biology is fairly similar but even the most minute differences cause problems for something like this. Doesn't leave me a lot of hope for the blood testing.
Considering hope's really all I have left, might be best to ration it.
"Don't wanna…" Rielle said, as Zackel tried to get the ice chip into her mouth.
"Rielle, now more then ever, you need to stay hydrated. Maybe you can't keep food down, but you can go some time without food." Zackel said. It reminded him that he'd fallen behind aiding the ogres, and that he'd have to spare a minute if he could to get them what they needed.
"No…" Rielle said, pawing weakly at the mage. Zackel just gently pressed the issue, which ended in Rielle taking the ice chip and sucking it down to nothing.
"How long?"
"I don't know…eighteen hours, give or take." Zackel said. "I need to draw some blood."
"…wait…first…Zackel, tell me a story."
"A story?"
"When I was little…mother would tell me stories…tell me a story…"
"…okay." Zackel said, recalling a fairy tale his own mother had told him. "Once upon a time, there were three foxes…"
Entry #460
Blood is maddeningly ambiguous. Once again unable to tell if it's a matter of equipment, tester skill, alien factor, or outright failure.
Three reasons for me being unable to properly tell if antidote is working, against one that confirms that it's not.
Will take majority here.
"Uggghhhhhh…" Rielle groaned. Her skin had been hot to the touch almost since the beginning, but now it felt like it was about to ignite beneath Zackel's hand, her temperature spiking dramatically. Zackel was glad that he hadn't railed against his 'master cold' after Rielle's comment: here, his gifts from it were worth their weight in gold.
"It's all right Rielle…" Zackel said, kneeling over her and manifesting a chamber of flowing cool air, venting the heat around her and coming off her body into the fireplace, adding it to the fire there. "It'll be all right…"
"…thank you sam…you are a boiled man….freshly chopped cabbage…" Rielle said. Zackel tried to ignore the strange words: high fevers could do funny things to your mind.
After an amount of time, Zackel didn't know how long, the alien's temperature began to drop again. Zackel didn't know if the fact that the alien had gone quiet and slipped off into sleep shortly afterward comforted or disturbed him.
He quickly got a lesson fifteen minutes later, when he was taking a bite from one of his mage-created food items and Rielle began to have a seizure.
"SHIT!" Zackel said, tossing the bun aside and scrambling over to Rielle. He swiftly turned her onto her left side, adjusting her fur 'pillow' beneath her head and checking her mouth to make sure it was clear. Another quick scan confirmed that there were no items nearby she could impact her body on, which left Zackel to carefully crouch by her side, lightly cradling her head as her body seized and jerked, the mage counting off the seconds.
It took a little over two minutes for Rielle to finally stop moving. Zackel sighed in relief: over five minutes was the danger zone. Just to be on the safe side, the mage made sure that the wrongful advice that humans could swallow their tongues during seizures help true for Draenei as well, quickly, and then waited to see if the seizure caused Rielle to vomit. It didn't.
"…urrrrrrrrrrrrrr…" Rielle said some time later.
"It's okay Rielle. I'm here. I'm here." Zackel said.
"…how long…?" Rielle eventually said.
"…I don't know." Zackel said. "I've…lost track."
Entry #461
Checked her wound: it doesn't seem to be getting better OR worse. Too much I don't know. About rogue poison. About Draenei bodies. About my own profession.
Fever's flared up again, along with the cough. I want to estimate that we're entering something approaching a final stretch, but I just can't tell.
Haven't slept much. Trying to keep ahead of it. Can't risk Rielle being alone if I doze off too deeply.
…I think she called me a paper clip in our last 'exchange'. Even based on all that's happened, that stands out to me for some reason.
Zackel jerked up as Rielle groaned, the reality of his situation returning. The Draenei had been quiet for some time. A long, comforting time. So quiet that Zackel had found said quiet slipping into his head. Before the noise and all it rode on returned.
"Rielle?" Zackel said.
"Hurts…" Rielle said. "Whole body…hurts…"
"How does it hurt?" Zackel said, feeling along the Draenei's limbs and torso.
"Burns…like…fiery knives…ahhhhhhhhhh…!" Rielle said, before turning onto her side and coughing so loud and long that Zackel swore she was going to expel part of her lungs (or worse) in the process. Zackel held onto her shoulder, feeling her hot, dry skin beneath his hand.
"…it's on the ceiling." Rielle said.
"What?"
"The ceiling…the voice comes from the ceiling…!" Rielle said, rolling back onto her back, her eyes wide. "It's telling me lies…it's making me sick…!"
"Rielle, listen to me. There is nothing on the ceiling. It's just me." Zackel said.
"CEILING!" Rielle shrieked, before she tried to surge up to her feet. Zackel's eyes widened before he reached to grab her.
Much to his great surprise, the alien yanked him up with her almost all the way before the mage finally managed to pull her down. Naked panic began flooding through his mind: he might have remembered how to treat seizures from his basic medical studies, but he was at a loss for how to handle this.
"RIELLE! IT'S ONLY ME! JUST ME!" Zackel said, struggling to get the woman down before her sudden adrenaline explosion caused her to hurt herself.
"LIAR! LIARRRRRRR!" Rielle screamed, clawing at Zackel's eyes. Zackel tried to get a grip on the woman's hands and shove her down at the same time, feeling the alien's nails scrape skin off his forehead as he struggled. Snarling, Rielle went for his throat with her teeth, forcing Zackel to grab her by one of her horns and yank her head back.
When that didn't work, he grabbed at her head tendrils.
The tone of Rielle's shriek went from pain to outright violation, and her other hand snaked up, seizing onto Zackel's own. The movement, however, caused her to lose her balance, and Zackel forced her back down on the ground.
"RIELLE! IT'S JUST ME! JUST…!" Zackel yelled.
The terrible pressure erupted in Zackel's right hand a second before the pain did. Rielle still had it in a frenzied clench, and she'd closed said clench with every bit of strength she could muster.
And even after all she'd endured, what she could muster was a lot.
Zackel didn't so much hear his own scream as he felt it reverberate in his head, even as Rielle crushed his right hand in her grip. It was only by the thinnest of margins that Zackel managed to rein-in his response and change his retaliation from a storm of ice to a downwards-directed cold wind.
It was enough, as the wind slammed Rielle fully onto the ground and loosened her grasp. Zackel immediately snatched his agonizing hand away and turned his non-wounded side towards Rielle, his left hand up. Rielle shuddered where she lay, her eyes unfocussed and barely aware of where she was. Zackel tried to ignore the pain and focus on the Draenei, as she lay there, blinking.
Zackel didn't know how long it was before her eyes closed and her breathing slowed, the alien slipping back into the calm of sleep, her episode over. Zackel watched her another few minutes before he finally trusted the situation enough to look at his hand.
The pain of just moving it quickly made Zackel realize that this time, he hadn't dodged the bullet. Blood was leaking from a small cut on its upper side, and while the fingers did not feel damaged, the sheer grinding pain that came from even trying to move them or his wrist made it clear that several of the small, vital bones in the appendage were, and severely at that.
"Ah…oh fu…ow…" Zackel said, taking his injured hand with the other one, trying to inspect it. Each touch sent a new stab of pain down his arm, Zackel's teeth creaking in his jaw from how tight it was.
"…whoever…is running this world…" Zackel managed to rasp out. "I don't…appreciate their sense of irony."
Final (?) Entry
Up until now, I have written this journal solely for my own thoughts. This last entry is not for that.
I expected a lot of bad possibilities when I tried to treat this poison, but uncontrollable violence was not one of them. That got my right hand, my primary hand, crushed. And while I would like to think that's as bad as it's going to get, I am not that optimistic.
I am not that stupid.
This entry is for anyone who finds this journal who is not me. I am recording what I hope is not my last series of choices. And before anyone wonders why I did not use my last remaining healing potion on my hand…
I did. I spared myself two drops. It didn't help much, and it will severely cripple my ability to do magic…but I might yet need the rest. For Rielle.
She didn't mean to hurt me. She's sick. I have hope that she can overcome it.
If you are reading this, she did not. Perhaps you have already found bodies.
I do have regrets for my choice, but I would have more if I'd chosen otherwise.
Just know if you are reading this, things went wrong. If things go right…
I'll be tearing this journal page out.
Sincerely
Zackel Wintersoul
Writing with his lesser-used hand had taken a lot longer then Zackel had expected. During a few times, Rielle had stirred, causing Zackel to break off and watch her. When she settled back down, he continued until he was finished, closing the journal before he looked at his injured right hand.
The healing potion had, as said, only helped a little with the injury, slightly repairing the cracked and fractured bones. Until Zackel could get it properly tended to, he'd need to keep it bound up. For his sake, and Rielle's.
The issue of that problem quickly came apparent: there was no real wood in the room that Zackel trusted to serve as a split. The buckets, table, washing tub, and miscellaneous wooden items all had something wrong with them (mostly concerns about infection) that caused Zackel to rule them out. The fact that he still needed wood eventually brought him to the Thrust board.
Zackel looked at the gift, given long ago to him by Maginor Dumas. He'd done a lot of thinking, and learned a thing or two, over that board.
But it was just a thing, in the end.
Zackel still felt a deep twinge of sorrow as he broke it apart, sifting through the cleaner, finer wood of its remains and using selected pieces and two more strips cut off his robe to bind up his hand. Once that was done, he tucked his journal away into a corner before settling back down, watching Rielle.
Time passed, as it always did.
"…in the Light, there is no beer…" Zackel eventually began humming to himself. "That's why we drink it here…and when we are gone from here…our friends will be drinking…"
"All the beer…" Rielle whispered.
"Rielle?" Zackel said once more, carefully crawling over. "Can you hear me?"
"….I can't feel my body."
A cold chill crept down Zackel's spine. He did his best to keep it off his face, reaching out with his remaining hand and placing it on Rielle's leg.
"Can you feel that?"
"…are you touching my leg? I think…"
"I am." Zackel said, before placing his hand on Rielle's stomach and pressing down lightly. "Where am I touching?"
"Stomach."
"…this…might be a good sign." Zackel said. "You just had an…incident…"
Rielle's eyes remained blank. Zackel took it in stride: it didn't really matter if she remembered what she'd done or not.
"It caused you to suddenly move around a lot, violently. If we're looking at that episode as the last hump you needed to get over, your muscles and nerves might just be burned out. Numb, but not bad numb. Worn out instead of gone out, if you know what I mean."
"…and…if it's not a good sign?"
"…If you couldn't feel my hand, it would far more likely be a bad sign." Zackel said. As far as he knew, he was telling the truth.
"…how long?"
"…I don't know." Zackel said. "I think soon. Maybe…hopefully."
Rielle was quiet for a moment, before taking in a long, slow breath. The choking despair in the noise made Zackel forget about any pain he had.
"I don't wanna die…" Rielle said, her voice quivering and on the verge of a sob.
"You're not dead yet." Zackel said, putting his left hand on her shoulder.
"I don't wanna die…not like this…" Rielle said. "If I had to die…I wanted to die with purpose…die on my feet…not on my back…"
"You're not going to die Rielle."
"But you don't know." Rielle said, her voice raw with emotion. The battle within her to break down the poison had long exhausted any defenses or fronts she could put up about herself. To someone like Rielle, Zackel knew how important image was. How much it comforted her own inner demons. But those resources had been stripped away, leaving her with naked fear she might not have felt since the orcs had massacred her species. Worse, she may have gotten so good at repressing her old memories and using her gained strength to filter them that, with all that gone, the fear that should have been familiar was anything but.
Even if Zackel had been far more embittered against the Draenei warrior for her actions then he was, he doubted he could have acted any differently as he saw that. For all the variables in human interaction, and all the myriad ways and degrees said interaction occurred, there was always a yin/yang core factor. You either had a sense of decency, or you didn't.
Sometimes Zackel had envied those who lacked said decency. People like them wouldn't have let their failings torture them so.
But in the end, said people did not experience such things because they were unable to comprehend that they could fail. Without failure, there was no true success. Just opinion. And opinions, as the saying went, were like assholes. Everyone had one.
"Know that? Maybe not. But I know you." Zackel said, taking Rielle's hand in his and holding it firmly. Any outsider might have commented on the risk of such a move. It might have comforted the Draenei, but if she abruptly snapped into another manic state, or had another seizure, Zackel could very well end up with TWO broken hands. That thought, however, did not even enter his mind.
The risks of decency.
"And I know that if death wants you…it's going to have to devote more of an effort than this. A fel of a lot more."
Rielle looked at Zackel a moment before closing her eyes. The emotion was still evident in her breathing, but Zackel was sure it was calming.
"…Zackel?"
"Yes?"
"What's your name?"
"…pardon?" The mage said.
"Your first name. The one you shared with your parents. The one you covered with Wintersoul. Your true name." Rielle said.
"…Jude. It's Jude." Zackel said. "Zackel Jude."
"…my name…Rielle…it means…roughly… 'Strong In The Light'…" Rielle said. "I think…I always tried to take that…at face value…but…but I…"
"Shhhhhhhh." Zackel said. "I understand. Rest now."
"I'm sorry…"
"It's all right."
"I'm just so sorry…"
"…you only need to be as sorry as necessary, Rielle. I accept what you mean. Nothing else is needed. Rest."
"…Zackel…if the worst happens…will you…make sure you remember me?"
"…I don't think even the worst mind violations or head injuries could cause me to forget." Zackel said. "Considering how many of the latter you inflicted on me, doubly so."
"…I…" Rielle said. "Can live…with that…"
Zackel felt Rielle's hand go limp in his.
Fortunately, it just signaled her return to sleep, as her chest continued to rise and fall. Zackel laid her hand down before checking her vitals. Her heartbeat and breathing seemed normal, and her skin had cooled off sometime during the manic episode and the little exchange the pair had just had.
Zackel waited until the Draenei was deep in sleep before he took some more blood.
"…so…is it my time then?"
"Is that what you believe?"
"I see you, glowing there. I don't have a sense of what I know…I wish it didn't have to be this way…"
"Ah child…you see me not because it is your time, but because part of you thinks it should be. But the light does not shine for those who seek to atone. That is for the world you know. It does much more there."
"…am I dreaming?"
"Perhaps. That is for you to decide. But you do not yet need come here. How that will come about, who can say. For now child…there is elsewhere for you to be. Until we truly meet. Farewell."
Rielle's eyes fluttered open, the thick fog over her mind beginning to lift. She was vaguely aware of a faint cooking smell.
"Rielle?" Zackel said, the Draenei turning her head towards the voice.
Zackel knelt by the fire, a cooking pot over it. Where he'd gotten that, Rielle couldn't say. Maybe he'd always had it and she hadn't noticed.
"How do you feel?"
"I…" Rielle said, more of the world returning to her. "I feel…"
Rielle sat up partially, surprising herself in the process. Lifting her arm, she traced it along her leg and torso.
"…like shit." Rielle finally said. "Worse, shit that's been stepped on. Ugghhhh…"
"But you can feel your body, right?"
"Every pained, exhausted inch of it." Rielle said, shifting slightly on her side.
The fact of what that meant dawned on Rielle a second later. Some parts of the fog had been slower than others to leave.
"I don't feel numb any more." Rielle said. "I can move…it's hard but I can…"
"I was correct. We did get over the hump." Zackel said, heading over and crouching by Rielle, holding up a vial. "Did more blood tests after you went back to sleep. I had trouble getting a baseline over the past few days, but I eventually nailed it down. The fact you can move again confirms it. My latest tests are about 70 percent sure that the toxin's almost gone from your body. You made it."
"…Zackel? What happened to your hand?" Rielle said.
"…as said, we just got over the hump. Said hump was pretty bad, for both you and me." Zackel said, glancing at his injured hand.
"…I did that?"
"The poison did." Zackel said. "If it's the price I had to pay to beat it, well, I'd have sacrificed a few more bones."
"…but hands are so important to mages…"
"I'll be all right." Zackel said. "As soon as we make sure you're improving, I'll put a little more healing potion on it. For now, here." Zackel said, offering Rielle one of the canteens. "Drink up, slowly."
Rielle did, finding out that her throat was parched in the process. The whole canteen, even drained at a controlled pace, did not satisfy it completely, but Zackel had another at hand to deal with that.
"Once we see how you react to that, and depending how you feel…I'm making a mild soup. Try and see if we can get some of that into you. Recover your strength."
"…how long has it been?" Rielle said.
"Can't say. Three days, maybe four? Time sort of blurred together after a while." Zackel said, heading back over to the soup pot. "You're not completely out of the woods yet, my lady. Lie back down for now."
Rielle did, resting her head as Zackel puttered around her.
"…I…I don't remember much." Rielle said.
"Not surprising. You had at least one fever dream. When your body's in a state like yours was, re-collection's often slipshod."
"…Zackel? Did I tell you my name?"
"…you mean what Rielle means? Yes. You didn't dream that." Zackel said, sitting by Rielle. "Do you remember what I told you?"
"…Jude." Rielle said. "What does Jude mean?"
"Praise, roughly." Zackel said, sipping from his soup cup. "But you can sing mine another time."
"Why not…now? Considering the source material…it will probably only take five seconds."
"You are definitely getting better." Zackel said, reaching out and feeling Rielle's forehead. Warm, but within an acceptable range.
"…Zackel?"
"Yes?"
"…during this…period…did you grab my cranial tendrils? They ache."
"…yes." Zackel said. "I did so as a last resort and for good reason, and believe me, you probably hurt me a lot more in exchange. But I will ask for your forgiveness for that."
"…give me some soup, then we'll talk." Rielle said. And in the end, the warm broth went a long way to helping Rielle forget her pain.
"Zackel? What are you doing?" Rielle asked some time later. The mage had changed the dressing on her leg (and said injury definitely looked better, though it was still discolored and sore), and afterwards the warrior had laid back down to resume her rest, Zackel sitting against the nearby wall.
"Going to see you off to sleep again. Then, I'll see if I can't catch up on my own." Zackel said.
"Leaning against the wall?"
"I'll be fine. Get more rest, Rielle. I'll feel better when you are."
"…no. Not like this." Rielle said, rolling over on her stomach. The effort taxed her more then she would have liked to admit, but she had enough strength to start crawling over to Zackel.
"Rielle, what are you doing? Lie back down…!"
"I've spent the last few days lying on my back. I'm as sick and tired of it as I feel." Rielle said. "If you're gonna watch me, then I may as well…be right close at hand."
"Rielle…"
"Please." The Draenei said. "I…would find it comforting."
"…well…" Zackel said, his eyes scanning upwards. "…I can't see…how it would hurt…so just stay there, I'll do it."
"Do something about this floor too. It's cold."
"Sorry, it's not in my contract and I am not re-negotiating it at the moment." Zackel said. He immediately showed that he was lying by getting one of Rielle's furs and helping her onto it. With that done, he put more wood on the fire and then assembled the furs where he'd been leaning against the wall, lastly helping Rielle over to them and settling her down, quickly retrieving the last fur and sitting down next to her. Rielle settled against Zackel as he brought the fur up over both of them, leaning her head on his shoulder.
"Oh yes…this is much better if just for the difference."
"Hopefully not a crick in the neck producing difference." Zackel said, before he lightly placed an arm around Rielle's shoulders. The action made her relax further, something Zackel did take notice of.
"…just so you know, mage." Rielle said. "If you even begin to make any sort of assumption, I'll break your other hand."
"Please. Why would I want to make an ass out of you and Mption? I don't know who HE is, but he apparently had very cruel parents."
"I'm just going to chalk up that line to one last gasp from my fever." Rielle said, closing her eyes. Silence settled back onto the room, save for the crackling of the fire.
Zackel felt his own weariness returning, a crushing weight he likely wasn't going to last long under. It did not, however, keep him from noticing the warmth he felt. Not just from the blankets and Rielle's presence. The warmth within, finally free beneath the fear and the efforts to combat it.
Though it did keep him from noticing that Rielle was speaking for some time, albeit in a tone so softly one would have to strain to hear.
"Rielle? You said something?"
"What…oh. Not to you." Rielle said. "I was just…giving thanks to the Light."
"Oh?"
"…it's been a long, long time since I did that. Actually, I've done a lot of cursing it." Rielle said. "I would like to think I wouldn't forget to do this, but just in case…I can't promise I won't ever do that again, or who knows what else…but for now, I'm thanking it for the strength it gave me. For giving me another chance to choose my own terms. And…for giving me you."
Zackel stared across the room, not sure what to say. Rielle herself said nothing further. Shortly thereafter, she'd fallen back asleep.
After a bit, Zackel raised his hand and gently began to stroke Rielle's hair. She did not awaken at the touch, and Zackel continued the motion as he pondered.
Maybe the bloom hadn't come off the rose. Maybe, to protect its exceptional flower, the rose had just had exceptionally potent thorns. Maybe, just maybe, Zackel had finally traversed them all.
Maybe it was time for the blossom.
He'd told her every truth he had except one. Perhaps it was time for that.
But that could come later. Zackel's exhaustion would no longer be denied. Sleep finally found him and carried him off.
Rielle did not stir from her position throughout the night.
But the night, as it always did, gave way to day…
thud. Thud.
The storm continued to shriek around the Alterac Fortress as it had for so long.
Thud. Thud.
The fire had burned down to mostly embers as Zackel began to wake up. Rielle remained at his side, and with his mind still half-asleep, all he was really aware of was her heartbeat, feeling the steady pulse against his chest.
Thud. Thud!
Zackel's mind debated whether to get up or slip back into sleep. The latter seemed far more appealing…
Thud! Thud!
Though Rielle's heartbeat had its own appeal…
Thud! THUD!
The realization cut through Zackel's torpid state, a dagger of ice-cold rattling itself in his spine.
The fortress was not the only building around besieged by the storm. There had been others, equally as imprisoned as the fortress…
He could feel Rielle's heartbeat…but it was not the source of the noise that had slowly dominated his attention.
THUD! THUD!
Outside, the storm howled.
Who can say what some would do under such circumstances…
Inside, Zackel opened his eyes.
THUD! THUD!
Perhaps the rose had not yet come back into reach…
Down in the basement, the remains of the ogre clan stared at the wall. The wall that had begun producing the constant, ever-increasing hammering…
Perhaps the thorns were far crueler then even Zackel realized….
THUD!
"Zackel?" Rielle said. "Do you hear that?"
"…I think we have trouble."
And down below, the fist smashed through the wall.