Page 39 of Tides of Shadows

Between searching for transport contracts in the city, I also visited various local medics. But none of them could help with Alaric’s illness.

Some tried to push strange remedies on me, foreign oils, unknown herbs. Others offered earth amulets for protection, swearing they would ward off whatever plagued him.

Perhaps it truly was time for prayers to the gods, since nothing else remained.

I decided I would visit the palace medical wing again.

If no one there wanted to help me, then I would look through those books I’d seen there myself. Maybe I would find something.

When I entered the same white chambers once more, they were no longer quiet.

Medics moved between pallets and beds, their robes brushing stone floors. The air carried groans and muffled cries. You could feel in the nose the sharp scent of blood, rot and decay.

There were more sick in White City now. Far too many.

No one paid me any attention, the old medic I had once spoken with passed me without recognition. I turned toward the shelves when a warm voice stopped me.

“May I help you?”

I turned and saw a beautiful woman. Long dark hair was tied in a tight braid. Her amber eyes looked at me with concern. She wore gray robes like the other medics and had many small Elementars on her.

“I…” I hesitated. “It is nothing urgent. I seek help for my brother.”

“Where is he lying?”

“Nowhere here. He is in Thalrock,” I said. “I am searching for a cure.”

Curiosity flickered in her eyes.

“Come with me,” she said. “I must cleanse my tools. I will listen to you.”

After a moment, as if realizing I was from a Family she added formally “My Lady.”

“Call me Nerissa.”

“I’m Selene. Come”

We went to a smaller chamber. Selene carried a basin filled with bloodied, tarnished instruments. The room was cramped, crowded with bandages and jars of remedies. A small stove burned in the corner, pots of water simmering atop it.

She washed each tool in turn, then placed it carefully into the boiling water.

“So tell me,” Selene said. “What is wrong with your brother?”

“Several years ago,” I began, “his strength began to fail without warning. His bones ached with every movement. His muscles betrayed him, as if something were draining the life from his body. Now he barely walks. A few steps through the palace exhaust him. Most days, he sits.”

“I am sorry,” she said softly. “And his mind? Does he wander? Speak without sense?”

“No. His thoughts remain clear.”

She asked more questions, each one pressing deeper. The longer I spoke, the heavier my shoulders became, as if the weight of his suffering had settled upon them.

“Has anyone in your family shown signs of such an illness?” Selene asked. “It may be inherited.”

“Not to my knowledge.”

She hesitated. “May I examine you?”

I frowned. “Why?”