Fever
Tino has always been a curious and observant soul, ever since childhood according to most people that know him. It is both a blessing and a curse, depending on the situation one could say. Most of the time it is the reason why he is such a great hunter, noticing tracks that most people would miss and hearing the faintest of sounds that means prey is nearby. It also means he is always in on the latest gossip in town, clinging on to whispers of conversations he hears while walking through he streets on his way home after a hunt. He is always one to be well informed and finds it to be a great gift, very useful in most situations.
Then there are the times when his gift turns into a curse; when he is unable to turn a blind eye on the suffering of others and he curses at himself for not being able to do better.
None of them have had it easy in the past few weeks, but Torleif seem to struggle more than most of the others, appearing to have aged a decade in a matter of days. Tino sees it now. The lines of his forehead are deep as he sets down the unconscious body of a young man on a free spot on the floor of their temporary infirmary as yet another victim of an infected wound treated to late. His face looks grim, and he curses quietly, not even taking of notice of Tino hiding away in a corner of the room.
They have set up a temporary base of operations in a small village that welcomed their presence. Most of the rebels sleep in the large tents they stole from the rebels and it works just fine. The larger houses has been turned into temporary infirmaries as the houses have better conditions for the sick and injured with heating and a few proper beds.
Their numbers of injured are high after the events surrounding Brynjar's death, but even more so after an encounter with a seconds company of soldiers only days later. The fight was ugly and hard-won and they took some heavy casualties. It is a heavy blow to take to an already battered group of rebels, and it was hard for the veterans in charge to keep the group motivated to keep going after that and not turn tail to run back home.
Thankfully it was only two days on the road like that before they found this place and an opportunity to recover for a while and get back on their feet.
Tino watches silently as Torleif moves away from the young man he just brought to the infirmary and over to the very back where Matthias is sleeping on a cot. He has drifted in and out of consciousness since the day he fell of his horse and Eir realized that his wound had become infected and turned into blood poisoning. Every time he wakes it is only for a few minutes at the time and he has been delirious with fever and muttering nonsense.
With each passing day, Eir seems to lose more hope as she check in on him.
Tino has been asking for updates whenever he has the chance, but Eir is not one wanting to discuss the status of her patients with just anybody. So, curious as he is, Tino listens in on conversations and clings to every bit of information that either Eir or the other healers let slip when they talk amongst themselves, discussing how to best move forward with his treatment.
She did admit at some point that she had no idea if Matthias would ever wake up, that none of her herbs seems to have any effect in lessening the infection from the strange, magical wound he received in battle. If anything, it is getting worse and Matthias veins have started to look black, the same way Brynjar's did before he died.
They do the best they can to get some nutrition into him to help his body fight off the infection, but it is not easy feeding an unconscious man and they have so many others they need to treat as well. They all know that the soup they manage to force into him will not be enough to sustain him for very long. Matthias is growing weaker with each passing day, and it is only a matter of time until they will have to accept defeat and let him pass in peace.
Tino tucks further into a corner as Eir rushes past with medical supplies, barking out orders to the other healers helping her out. On her second pass by Torleif, she stops and squeezes his shoulder firmly, somehow also managing to balance a basket of supplies in her other arm. "Stop blaming yourself," she says sharply. "You are not responsible for everything bad that happens. He knew the dangers he put himself into."
Her tone is much sharper than one would expect from any healer, but this is a discussion she has had several times with not only Torleif, but several others and she is clearly sick of it. "You hanging around his bed all day staring will not do either of you any good," she continues. "Please get out of here. I have other patients that need my help, and you are getting in the way."
"I never knew he was that badly injured before he fell off that horse," Torleif whispers, still not taking his eyes off the cot. "I didn't see it. He was such a great help after we lost Brynjar, things would look far more dire for us if not for him." He rubs his forehead, and in that moment he looks far older than his actual years. "We are beginning to run out of people capable of leadership. There are plenty of those that want to take charge, but not somebody that inspires as much trust from the people as he has."
Eir shifts uneasily. "I did tell that boy that he was gambling with his life, but he refused to listen to me. Nothing short of ropes was going to stop him from trying to help." She sighs. "If he had only come to me when he realized that wound was getting infected instead of keeping it secret. Such things are much easier to treat before it gets a proper hold and spreads to the blood."
Torleif looks defeated. "Is there nothing we can do?" he asks. Still not willing to give up on Matthias.
"I have tried every single herb I know that should help, but so far nothing seems to be working. The only thing we can do now is hope his body is strong enough to fight off the poison on its own, but I have to admit I'm beginning to lose hope." She leans in closer to Torleif and lowers her voice in a rare display of sympathy from her. "I want to hope that he gets well, I do. I am a healer and I live to help people, but I also have to be realistic and so should you. The longer time it takes for him to wake up, the less of a chance there is he will wake up at all."
She readjusts the basket she is balancing and is about to move away when she freezes on the spot and stares directly at the corner where Tino is trying his best to blend in with the wall. Her mouth moves soundlessly in what can only be a long string of curses as her eyes narrow.
Tino, much like Torleif has been chased out of the infirmary on several occasions and he knows the furious flare in Eir's eyes is not something to ignore. He quickly begins inching his way towards the door before she can march close enough to slap him across the back of his head in reprimand.
"That is right young man!" she growls as she recovers. "You get out of here right this instant!"
She whirls back on Torleif, and all sympathy is burned away from her fury. "You as well! I have just had enough of you two lurking in my infirmary. We all have better things to do with our time, especially you, Torleif, and give that scout of yours something to do. Preferably something that keeps him occupied for a few days and out of my way!"
Torleif laughs bitterly as Eir marches her way out of the main room while still spewing quiet curses and Tino feels awkward having been caught somewhere he was not supposed to be.
"Maybe we should leave the woman to her work," Torleif says tiredly and begins his slow walk towards the door.
Tino does not have anything to say against him, no matter how reluctant he is to leave.
He throws one last glance towards the bed at the far back, wondering if Matthias is still going to be here the next time he makes it back here.
Matthias is vaguely aware of some distant sounds around him as he fades in and out of existence.
The last thing he can remember clearly is riding and growing dizzy and then everything going black. There has been a few times after that when he thinks he has been aware. He has seen colors, heard sounds, but his body refuses to listen when he attempts to move or speak. He is just so tired, everything hurts and it is easier to drift along as time passes.
This time however seems different. This voice is clearer than any of the others he has heard while trapped in the fog of his mind, realizing eventually that its somebody singing. The voice is deep, soft and familiar, and the melody soothing. It is some strange language he has never hears, but he clings onto every word as it draws him out of the haze and back to the real world.
Slowly he begins to take notice of his surroundings. He feels uncomfortably hot, burning up almost, but there is hand moving over his chest and spreading a soothing cool in its path and dousing the fire of his skin. He does make an attempt to open his eyes, but immediately has to close them again. There is a glimpse of pale moonlight and it is enough to send a searing pain shooting through his scull.
The song dies down and the hand disappears from his chest, and Matthias mutters out a weak complain, wishing for the calming voice and touch to take all of his discomforts away.
"Relax," the voice whispers quietly. "You should lie still. I had no idea that this might happen or I would have returned sooner to fix it." There is rustle of fabric as the other person moves around, but Matthias has no idea what he is doing, and he cannot keep his eyes open long enough to find out either. "The garnet I gave you was meant to protect, but the magic must have turned bad when I used the same crystal to kill that man."
After listening, Matthias's foggy brain finally manages to place the voice. "Lukas," he mutters, his own voice coming out hoarse and weak.
Lukas does not make any sound to confirm or deny, but Matthias knows it is him. "I gave you some herbs that will help remove the toxins from your system. They will take some time to take effect, so you will probably feel weak for a few more days. Your healer might be good, having kept you alive this long, but she is obviously not trained to take care of injuries that are magical in nature."
"I should call for a guard," Matthias hisses quietly as he finally opens his eyes proper to glare at Lukas who is sitting right next to him. "You murdered Brynjar in cold blood, putting our entire rebellion at risk."
"You should," Lukas replies calmly as he methodically dries his hands on a rag, not looking at all bothered by the fury in Matthias' voice, "although I doubt you will go through with your threat. The wisest thing you could have done was kill me the moment I told you who I work for. You could also have told Brynjar that he should not have taken that crystal in the first place. I know you are smart enough to realize I had something planned." He gives Matthias a sharp look at that. "But you remained silent."
"I didn't think you were going to kill him," Matthias growls.
"I did what I had to do to survive," Lukas snaps right back.
"I thought you were ready to die if it could bring peace to the Kingdom!" Matthias is quickly growing furious, voice rising in volume. "instead, you killed a man when you could have just weakened him instead. Then you fled, like a coward!"
"I do not want to die!" Lukas' voice his hard, and there is a dangerous gleam in his eyes. He then seems to catch himself and takes a few slow breaths to calm himself. "I do not want to give up my life unless I absolutely have to," he says a bit softer. "Also, you might not have seen it, but Brynjar's anger was going to lead you all to destruction had he been allowed to remain in charge. I have fought in war with him before. He is driven by revenge and prefers to charge into battle without considering all his options first."
Matthias just sighs tiredly. He has no idea how to process that Lukas can so easily explain the necessity of blatant murder. "Why did you even come back?" he asks.
Lukas remains quiet for a while, looking uncomfortable. "I came back because," he trails off almost immediately, lips forming words he does not speak out. "I had to make sure you were alright after everything that happened."
Matthias raises an eyebrow at him. "Amazing explanation," he says dryly.
Lukas sighs. "I had not planned to speak you again after what I did, but then I found out you were dying, and I had to fix my mistakes." Lukas face turns neutral once more, but his eyes speaks of guilt and Matthias cannot find it in his heart to remain angry. Life is too short for grudges. Lukas genuinely wants to help, but his methods are truly awful.
Matthias pushes himself up from the bedding to sit and groans as his muscles protests every single movement after so much time lying still.
Lukas inches away in response, increasing the distance between them. It seems strange to Matthias and then he catches sight of a faint, blue glow underneath the sleeves of Lukas' shirt. That is certainly not something that was there the last time they met. He reaches out to catch Lukas' wrist and get a better look at whatever it is, but Lukas is faster and pulls his arm out of reach.
"What is that?" Matthias asks.
Again, Lukas looks unwilling to answer, but eventually he gives another sigh and pushes up his sleeve in a sharp motion, baring one of his arms. There are blue symbols following the paths of his veins, creeping their way across his skin until they disappear back under the cover of his shirt, the same time of markings that covers most of Lukas' chest.
"It is punishment," Lukas states simply and sharply pulls down his sleeves to once more cover up the markings.
"You just never stop making things difficult for me," Matthias comments tiredly, dragging a hand over his face. "You warn me one day, then tell me you work for the enemy, then you save my life only to turn around to kill people I care about, and then save my life again. I never know where I have you."
There is a strange, half-smile from Lukas at that, looking a little brittle. "I would apologize, but I did the best I could with the circumstances I was dealt."
"While you are here, can you at least tell me what the King has planned to do next then?" Matthias asks, even though he does not hold much hope.
Lukas opens his mouth as if to speak, but no words come out and he shuts it again. Beneath the cover of his sleeves, the markings seems to grow just a little bit brighter underneath the thin fabric of his shirt.
"I guess not then," Matthias mutters in reply to his own question. "Is there even a way for me to know that this is not a ploy from the King to make me trust you only so that you can lure us all into a trap later?" He is growing frustrated again. "You say that those markings are punishment, but how so? For all I know he just ordered you to destroy the rebellion you have secretly helped for several weeks now!"
"That is all true," Lukas replies easily, not seeming at all insulted by the accusation. "There is no way for you to tell, and I cannot be trusted to tell the truth. There is however something I can do to help you and you will not have to trust my word alone. This are things that my kind would never share with any outsider, especially not a human."
"Your kind," Matthias stutters, "Crap I almost forgot about all of that." He cradles his head in both his hands, rubbing hard at his temples to stave off a rapidly approaching headache. "I certainly wish I could forget about it. Magic and sorcery is crazy enough, but then there are also nonhuman creatures that looks like humans, and they have all sorts of weird powers. I though shit like that was only supposed to exist in fairytales!"
Lukas avoids his gaze, staring at a point somewhere on the wall. "You would be surprised at how much truth there is in superstition and fairytales," he says. "I am unable to tell you exactly what you need to know, but I can point you in the right direction."
Matthias snorts mockingly. "You want me to begin believing in fairytales? Right in the middle of a war?"
Lukas apparently ignores him. "There is wisdom in the tales of old women for all of those that are willing to listen," he says blandly, sounding more like he is talking to himself rather than Matthias. "Some of them might seem like the rambling of mad old hedge-witches, but they have seen and heard a lot in their lives and tend to remember better than men. All rumors have to begin somewhere, and some of them are even passed down through generations."
Thoroughly annoyed now, Matthias is gearing up for an argument when there is the sound of footsteps somewhere else in the house and Lukas' head snaps towards the sound.
"I have to leave."
"I know, I know," Matthias replies. He is tired, even after sleeping for several days apparently. Everything hurts and he is hungry and confused. He is also getting used to Lukas disappearing when it suits him and leaving Matthias with more questions than he had answers.
Lukas stretches out his hand as if to touch, but seem to chance his mind halfway through the movement as he curls his fingers into a fist and withdraws his hand again. "I left some of the herbal mix by your bed," he says quickly as time is running out for this meeting. "Apply it to the burns on your chest once a day for about two weeks and it should clear the poison from your blood and allow the wound to heal naturally."
With those last words he stands up in a unfairly smooth motion and stalks towards one of the windows, easily avoiding the other wounded and unconscious people still spread out on various available flat surfaces in the house.
He disappears just as the door on the opposite side of the room opens.
A young woman enters the room and when she notices Matthias, her mouth drops open in surprise.
Matthias suddenly feels very self-conscious about his lack of shirt and the nasty scarring across his chest on full display. He slowly pulls up his blanket to cover up most of the damage even though she has probably seen more and worse working with the sick and injured.
"Uhm, good morning," Matthias says as he scratches onerously at the back of his neck. "I think I've been out for a while, do you know if there might be any food around?"
The woman drops her supplies. Then she screams.
It only takes a minute or so for Eir and a few night-sentries to arrive after the warning shriek, and all of them appear equally surprised to see Matthias awake and in relatively good shape.
The guards leave once they realize that there is no actual threat, but Eir is quick to recover and marches right up to push him back down on the bed. Her eyes grow wide and confused as she runs her fingers over the burns and realizing that they have healed much more than she expected and seemingly out of nowhere. When she asks about the unfamiliar herbal mixture across his chest, he plays dumb and tells her it was there when he woke up, and he just though it was the healer's work.
Lying is almost too easy. The leftover herbal mixture lies carefully hidden underneath the blankets.
The news of his miraculous recovery spreads like wildfire the morning after. Torleif is the first one to visit, practically crushing him into a hug the moment he is withing reach. Never has the veteran looks so disheveled and relieved at the same time. There are several new lines of worry crossing his forehead, making him appear as if he has aged a decade or so in only a few days.
Tino and Berwald both come by in turn.
Berwald fins a rickety old chair and mostly just sits by his bedside, keeping him company until his duties call him away again, but talking very little. Tino on the other hand is a blabbering mess, almost frantic in his retelling of everything that has happened in his time asleep. Mostly they were travelling further south where they were attacked and barely won. After that they ended up in a small village to recover which is where they are now.
Tino only leaves when Eir comes by and chases him out so Matthias can recover in peace.
In the time he was out, he has lost an alarming amount of weight and he both looks and feel like a ghost of his former self, but Eir reassures him that it is nothing that cannot be fixed by a few proper meals. That is unless he goes around to do something foolish and get himself injured again. Eir orders him to stay in bed for a few more days before he is allowed to make his first journey outside alone and to find a sleeping spot with the other rebels outside in the tents.
It is four days later when Matthias wakes up to find a stack of papers hidden partially underneath his makeshift mattress. He has no memory of seeing them the evening before and he can only think of one person that can have put them there without his noticing. Only a few rebels have the ability to read, and none of them would have gone through the trouble of bringing reading material. The only possibility is that Lukas left them there for him for some reason he did not feel like elaborating.
As he spreads the pages out across the bed, he curses his inability to read the elegantly scribbled text and quietly curses Lukas as well for thinking it was going to be of any help to him.
A few of the pages contain pictures in addition to text and so become far more interesting. The first one he looks at portrays a group of people resting by a small, beautiful pond, surrounded by vegetation. The, after taking a closer look it becomes apparent that something is off about it al. Some of those he thought were just people at first have tails curling around their bodies and others have sharply pointed ears peeking out through their hair, disrupting the normality of the image.
It is becoming apparent that this stack of papers might go into details about different creatures that roam this world. Matthias flips through a few more papers and almost tosses them aside in a state of shock and with a sinking feeling of dread taking up residence in his guts.
A few more pages in there is a rough sketch of a face close-up and twisted into a vicious grimace. The figure is humanoid, but the ears are a little longer and far sharper than human ones. The lips are pulled back in a snarl to reveal that the teeth are all sharp enough to render flesh. Even though it is just a simple sketch, the eyes appear almost glowing on the paper, unnatural and menacing.
The bed dips down suddenly and Matthias startles badly, sending a few of the pages scattering in every direction. He never even heard the door open, but when he whirls to the side he realizes it is only Tino.
"What are you looking at?" he asks, voice bright and cheerful.
There is no convincing lie that Matthias can come up with, so he feigns nonchalance. If he tries to hide the papers then it will only draw suspicion and if Tino is curious enough he might just steal them at a later opportunity to find out on his own, and so Matthias shrugs as he hands a few of the pages over. "I was bored and found these papers tucked away in some old cabinet, thought they looked interesting."
Tino accepts the papers and rifles through them on his own. "What's this all about?"
"I don't know," Matthias admits. That is true enough, but he has a suspicion. "I can't actually read, but the pictures seemed interesting."
Tino flips through another few pages and his brows knit together in concentration as he squints down at the fine text. His finger moves along the page and his mouth is moving with unspoken words. "Vette?" he reads slowly as he flips another page and points down on a word written at the top in large elaborate print. "Ever heard about it before?"
"Not really," Matthias replies with a shake of his head. It is not directly a lie, but this confirms his suspicious about the papers. Lukas did mention that he was a Vette, by the never elaborated, and so Matthias knows nothing beyond that one word. "Have you?"
"I might have heard some stories when I was younger," Tino replies, "but I don't remember much of them. I was a long time ago."
"But you know how to read?" Matthias asks, already nervous about getting his hopes crushed. If he can figure out what all these papers say, then he will know more about what Lukas is.
Tino shakes his head. "I only know a little, just about enough to read my aunt's shopping list and sometimes I still get it wrong. This," he points at the stack of papers, "is far too much for me and that is if I was able to decipher the handwriting." He must see the disappointment on Matthias' face, because he quickly follows up with: "I'm pretty sure that Torleif knows how to read. All the veterans should be able to. It was mandatory in the army."
"Thanks Tino," Matthias sighs, "but I'm pretty sure Torleif has more important things to instead of reading through a bunch of fairytales just because I was bored."
"You could try Eir," Tino adds. "Back home she had a whole shelf full of books on medicine and such, so she definitely knows how to read." He hands the papers back. "That is if you have time to be bored for much longer. Last thing I heard, Torleif was eager to get back on the road."
"I don't blame him," Matthias says. "We have probably stayed here longer than we should have."
"Torleif didn't want to leave you behind," Tino says with a gentle smile. "Not after you finally woke up."
Matthias makes a grimace. He is eternally grateful not to have been left behind, but if this delay is what it takes for the soldiers to find them, he will never forgive himself, even though the choice was not his to make.
Tino pats him on the back, an attempt of sympathy or comfort. "We didn't stay behind just for you, you know. You're not that important." He snickers out a laugh, looking far to pleased with himself for teasing Matthias. "There are some more people joining us from the neighboring towns as well and they should be here in two days time or so. It just so happens that Eir also thinks she can clear you for travel by then as well." He grins as he stands up. "I should go. I'm next up for guard duty and already late. Good luck with those papers, I'll talk to you later."
In the next instant he is gone, forever a whirlwind.
The silence seems almost tangible after Tino's rapid chatter, and it leaves far to much room for Matthias mind to run rampant. The papers lies spread across the bed and the snarling face on the top sheet is practically mocking him. Matthias throws himself back down on the bed with a sight. Those pages are certainly going to haunt him until he can find out what information those texts hold.
He is looking forward to being back on the road again. At least there he will not have too much time trapped alone with only his thoughts for company. The time until then will be torture.