The Restless Dead Await (Zeal, Auldwin)

[Quixotic]

Time Stamp: 51st Fall Time: Mid-morning Syna was still climbing towards his peak over Endrykas as the hustle and bustle of the city carried on beneath it. The sound of people's conversations filled the air, laughter and calls suddenly dominating the soundscape before they fell back and joined in the general background noise of another day in the city. For most making their way through the city it would seem like there wasn't anything wrong at all, Syna was shining brightly in a mostly clear sky, the people seemed happy, there was a light refreshing breeze... not a thing wrong at all. Unless of course you happened to notice a pair of Topaz clansmen standing in the shade of a pavilion, carefully keeping themselves out of the way. It was clear they were tense, possibly worried too with their faces locked into stern masks as they were. They spoke quietly, their hands strangely still since they were speaking in Pavi. It was clear they didn't want people to overhear what they were discussing. "It happened again last night... Talma Farstep this time. She doesn't remember anything, just waking up with the bodies of the Stargazer's chickens around her and her knife in her hand." "Petch it, That's the third night in a row, same each time too. Has Varant found anything?" "No. He’s sure about what’s behind it though." The second of them cursed softly, his eyes flicking round the thoroughfare between the pavilion before he spoke again "What do we do? We can't spread the word, it'd only set people on edge. We can’t track it either. What if the petching thing gets tired of animals and decides to try for people next time?" "Varan said he'd start spreading word amongst the Ankals, asking them and their webbers to watch and see if it happens again. As soon as they feel a change in someone they'll put out a call." "What about the other ghosts? Has Paedric had any luck?" "Not yet, he's still asking though, running himself thin convincing them with that stuff of his." “We going to join him? Cover more ground that way? Some of them might be willing to talk without that stuff.” The other Drykas replied with a simple nod and turned to head off along the path, the tension still flowing from him and his partner. It seemed there was something stirring in Endrykas, something that they’d not been able to track, or catch so far, something that involved the ghosts in the city.

[Zeal Aldercraft]

“I can’t breathe, Pivl, I honestly can...not…breathe. Please don’t send me away,” the older woman huffed.

The Ankal’s eyes narrowed and he tried again. “If you really couldn’t breathe, would you still be sitting on that cot, complaining to me that you can’t breathe? I haven’t been able to find anything physically wrong with you, Orena.”

“Then you have to look harder! There’s something up there blocking my nose. It keeps me from breathing right, no matter what I try.”

“Then maybe you should try breathing through your mouth,” Zeal snorted.

The remark flew off his tongue before he could censor it, sending Orena into an uproar. “Zeal Aldercraft! Is that how you intend to treat all your patients? I can tell you I won’t be one of them!”

The Ankal turned his head to stare at him, his glare staving off any brewing comments. When he turned back around to face Orena, the creases in his brow deepened. He studied the woman’s weathered face for a second time. “Both of you need to keep still and let me do my job.” He turned to Zeal, handed him the lamplight and moved his arm until every crease on her face, was visible even in the darkened healing tent. As he tipped her head back to examine her nose again, he reminded Zeal with his eyes, that their job was to heal minds as well as bodies.

The Drykas bit his tongue and repositioned his hand so that the light was directly below her long nose. His father took his time looking up her nostrils, while Zeal pondered whether her brain was visible to the Ankal, then he realized his father was glaring at him again, like he’d been reading his thoughts and he returned his attention to the lamplight.

“There’s nothing there, as I told you twice now, but you don’t have to take my word for it.” His voice deepened. “There are other healers in Endrykas, you could see one of them and get a second opinion. If I refer you, you won’t have to wait in the lines again.”

Orena shook her head. “No..no...you’re my healer, the one I trust. I could never...I would never…” She squeaked, “Those other healers are quacks. You’ve never led me wrong, I can’t say the same for them.” She cringed.

The corners of Pivl’s mouth tugged up into a small smile. When the woman’s lips stayed flat, he reached out and touched her hand. “Is there something wrong...besides the breathing?” His eyes searched her face as he patiently waited for an answer. Zeal would never understand where his father’s patience came from; the man’s supply of it was never-ending, except when it came to his son.

[Zeal Aldercraft]

Orena’s gaze lowered while she searched for the words. When she looked up again, she’d found them. “I feel like a fool for even saying it...”

The Ankal encouraged her by giving her hand another squeeze, like he was kneading the thought out of her. She lowered her voice. “There’s something I don’t have words for. Something in the air?” She looked around, then back at him. “I don’t know, it makes my skin crawl. I can’t relax! Even my weaving does me no good. That’s what I was doing today when it happened. I was in front of the fire weaving after the morning meal, the same thing I always do. I got this weird feeling though, like I couldn’t sit right. Then it came out of nowhere…that feeling…that uneasy feeling. Then I couldn’t breathe.”

His smile morphed from business to genuine and he nodded when she finished speaking. “Don’t feel bad, that’s been the complaint of the day. I think there’s something in the air that’s affecting people, which means It’s probably an allergy. I can give you something that'll make you feel better.” He disappeared. Orena and Zeal sat in stony silence until he returned and handed her a cloth pack.

“This will help you with your allergies. It’s especially good in tea. My wife can show you how to brew it so that the bitterness doesn’t stay on your tongue. It’ll help you feel better if you take it at least three times a day; more if you feel uneasy at all.”

“That’s a lot of tea for a woman to drink in one day.”

“It’ll make you feel better, I promise.” The Ankal helped her up off the cot. “If you take it to my wife in the next tent, she’ll show you all her secrets, just tell her I sent you.” His father walked her to the tent flap. When Orena had disappeared, the Ankal turned to him. “It’s not an allergy.”

Zeal stared at him, surprised. “Why’d you treat her for one then?”

“If I’d told her I was giving her something to calm her nerves, she wouldn’t have taken it.” When Zeal laughed, his father cut him off. “Can’t you feel it? Something is in the air and it’s not allergies. Some people are more sensitive to spirits.”

“So you’re saying Orena has a spirit stuck up her nose?” His father ignored his comment, which meant he was even more irritated then when he’d been glaring at him. Zeal shrugged. “I’ve been busy all day, I haven’t had time to think about it.”

“Now that you have the time?”

He wasn’t going to let it drop so Zeal gave in. “I don’t know, there might be something.”

Borin came running towards them from the main tent, cutting off their conversation with a rumble from his chest. “Ankal! Wait!” His features were a tight mask but Zeal could feel the worry rolling off him. “Please, come back to the tent with me.”

“Why, Borin? What’s wrong?”

“Varant is here with some disturbing news and you need to hear what he has to say.”