All 34.1 - Returning Home

"I still think you should try to sleep," Victor stressed.
"And I still think you should leave me be about that," Lucca grumbled wearily, rubbing at his face. "I can't sleep the whole time. And it's a hell of a lot easier said than done, too."
They were back on the Gunakadeit once again, heading towards Mirilarin. Having set out earlier that day, they were about seven days away from their home that they left what felt like an eternity ago. Many of those they had travelled with on the first voyage away from Mirilarin with were no longer on board; instead, new allies had joined them in their place.
Cheko and Caitlyn had stayed in Engiadina with Virgil, Shintaro, Nuan and Xue; what help they might offer in defeating the All was considered less valuable than ensuring that the four children would not become orphans. Carrot, the Creator of Constructs, stayed with her new family in the boat dock on the coast of Eshbol; she had never really understood what was happening anyhow, and she was happy where she was. Bastion guarded the seal on the rift in Duvallon, while their new friends Clover and Itzli did the same in Maopingzhen and the Seat of the Firehawk respectively. Magdha, ever disinterested in their plight, still had better things to do than join them. Shinobi, the mysterious assassin who they had left at Naiza Dawan, had apparently left the mine some time ago, and none there had heard from him since.
So it was that Victor, Lucca, Ryuji, Cress, Pierce and Cohen, joined by the fey spirits Harlequin and Gemini, and along with the new owner of the boat, the undead Nisa Redfern, travelled back to Mirilarin, to seal the fate of the plane one way or another.
Lucca had donned the brilliant robe of the Firehawk, a mythical item that would bestow mastery of flame if the wearer could pay its price. The druid was in the midst of paying it now: after donning it six days ago, he had begun falling ill. Now he was in the throes of a powerful fever, racked by sweats, shivers and weakness. Delirium had yet to fully set in, but his condition had been degrading rapidly as time passed. In a moment of lucidity, he thought of Ryuji in the last few days of his life so many years ago; the parallels were less than comforting. In an act of foolish oversight, Lucca had also switched his off his ring of sustenance only hours before deciding that he would be the one to take the robe. Because of this, the fierce hunger brought on by his changeling metabolism had returned full force, doing nothing to improve his state.
As this happened, Victor hovered about him protectively, trying to give what comfort he could. Now that he was apart from Virgil and they were on the boat, he was unlikely to stray from Lucca's presence again until the danger to his health had passed.
Currently, the druid was trying to keep himself distracted from the discomfort, busying his hands and mind by braiding a length of cord in an intricate pattern, dotting it with shell beads. What would normally have been a simple diversion was made far more taxing than usual as he struggled to force his shaky, sweaty hands to cooperate. For the third time in as many minutes he fumbled the bead he was trying to string, cursing darkly under his breath as he watched it skitter away. Victor stood up and retrieved the small bead, passing it back to him and returning to his perch on the adjacent bed. "Do you want anything?" Victor asked again, certainly not the first or last time he posed the question in recent history.
"I don't even know..." Lucca sighed heavily and paused for a moment, considering. With a shake of his head, he said with no small amount of frustration, "No, it's fine. I'm hungry, again. But don't worry about it, I'll get something when I finish this bit."
As they spoke, Cohen walked blithely into the room, strongly considering a small vial of clear liquid in his hand. He approached Lucca, gave the vial another small swish, then passed it over to him. "Drink this."
Lucca eyed the vial suspiciously. "Why? What is it?"
"What do you think it is?" he said dryly. "Honestly, it's like you people call me doctor without realizing it means something." 
Lucca remarked, "You being a doctor really doesn't narrow it down much, you know."
Rolling his eyes, Cohen continued, "It's medicine. What you have isn't going to be curable; you're still going to be very weak as long as this progresses, but I should be able to manage some of the symptoms. You won't be healthy," he said, "but at least you can be somewhat comfortable."
Eying the vial suspiciously, Lucca considered it carefully before eventually swallowing the contents. He sneered at the bitter taste before passing the empty vial back to Cohen. "Thanks," he said, a hint of confusion in his eyes at the gesture.
"May as well hold the thanks until we know it does something," he replied dryly, taking the glass. "If it doesn't, I can try something else." He looked at Lucca's confusion for a beat before adding sardonically, "Again, doctor. Wouldn't be much of one if I didn't at least try to help a sick person, would I?"
"True enough, I guess." He agreed, accepting this explanation. Resuming his braiding, he gave a crooked smile and added with a touch of sarcasm, "Here's hoping you got it figured out on the first try, if all your efforts are that 'delicious'."
"I never said I was a chef. Flavour isn't one of my concerns." He returned the smirk, "But I'll give the next one a lovely saccharine fruit flavour, since it bothers your sensitive palate." Glancing at the pocket watch he had picked up at some point in one of the cities they had passed through, he added, "I'll come back in thirty minutes to see how you feel." With that, he turned and left.
Victor continued to watch Lucca with concern, his effort to appear to be reading undermined by the obviousness with which his gaze flicked up over the pages to linger on the other man. As time passed, Lucca felt the oppressive shakes and shivers recede noticibly, though in their place a drowziness slipped over him like a heavy down blanket. Ever stubborn, the druid tried just as doggedly to fight through the mounting pull of sleep as he had the symptoms that preceded it. It was clearly a losing battle; the synergy of the drug's side effects and his own exhaustion proving to be too powerful an adversary. He began to nod off where he sat, still trying sluggishly to continue his work. Eventually, Victor stood up wordlessly, gently took the braid away from Lucca's hands, and just as gently shoved him over and tucked him under the blankets. This earned him a series of mumbled protests as the druid put up a perfunctory resistance. "You suck....old man," he muttered, curling up under the blankets with a heavy, resigned sigh.
"Undoubtedly," he said. He kissed him lightly on the forehead before returning to his chair, satisfied that Lucca would rest quietly. As promised, Cohen returned to check in 30 minutes. Lucca was sleeping deeply, so he gestured to Victor for permission to check him gently, taking pulse and temperature measurements without waking him from his slumber. Victor watched intently, edgily ensuring that Cohen did not do anything more invasive than touch the sleeping man's wrist.
Taking the thermometer that had been slipped into Lucca's mouth, the doctor frowned at the result. "He's still running a fever, even after that. Did he calm some after taking the medication?" he asked quietly.
"He stopped shivering so much, and he became weary," Victor replied.
"Well, that's because of the medication. Wasn't going to waste time making it non-drowsy, in this situation." His expression was of concerted thought as he looked at the thermometer.
Victor became agitated and asked, "Is he going to be alright? Should he take off the cloak?"
Cohen thought for another moment, "...No. No, not yet. We knew it would do this. I can manage the symptoms, but not cure them, obviously. The shock of the fever can be reduced, but it will not break. But, he should have the constitution to survive it. I'll keep a close eye on him. I'll know if he does start threatening to die." He looked up to Victor, "He will get worse. What did Webber say, it was a twelve-day ordeal? This is only the sixth. He is progressing daily, so he will be at least twice as bad at the end as he is now. It is my opinion that twice as bad as this will still be alive. It will not be a pleasant place, but it will be alive." He slipped the thermometer away in its case. "When he wakes up, discuss it with him. If he wants to see this through to the end, I'll do what I can to manage it. I'm certainly not letting someone kill themselves this close to the end." He turned to leave.
"Thank you," Victor offered, standing respectfully as the doctor exited.
Cohen made a dismissive gesture, "Well, I certainly couldn't do less without undermining my license, could I?"
"No," Victor added, with the slightest bit of knowingness in his expression, "Thank you for your concern." Cohen paused, made a 'feh' noise without looking back, and left.
----
Lucca awoke some time later, not feeling particularly rested. Hunger gnawed at him, but the medicine had given him the false hope of health. As he made to get up, looking about groggily for Victor, the man in question popped up and into Lucca's field of vision. Giving a small smile, Lucca pushed himself up to sit.
"How are you feeling?" Victor asked.
"Kinda better. Stupid hungry though. Gonna get food," he replied, swinging his legs to the edge of the bed.
Holding his hand up to stop him, Victor said, "Don't push yourself!" He stood up, "I can get you what you want."
"Like hell, dude. What am I, two? I think I can handle getting my own food, sheesh." He said with a derisive snort, "And anyway, I dunno what the hell I want yet. So doubly no."
Victor frowned. Giving a sigh, he said, "...If you honestly must, but I'm going with you." He hovered over Lucca closely as he stood up shakily. Immediately upon standing, he felt his strength drain; he wasn't as well as he had assumed he was. The sensation only served to aggravate him, rousing his defiance. He cursed under his breath and closed his eyes for a moment as he waited for it to pass. When he opened them again, Victor was holding out his hand. His expression was soft and worried as he said, "Please let me help. You're going to get sicker before you get better, and I understand wanting to do whatever is necessary to gain more power, but...you don't need to push yourself. There's no reason. I'm not going to stop you from going through this, if it's what you want. But let me help. I'm going to worry, and there's so little I can do but watch, so can you indulge me in this, at least?"
Lucca's expression softened as the other man spoke, taking on a tender, slightly repentant cast. "I'm sorry." He said quietly, "Yes...yes, of course. I didn't realize..." He shook his head slightly as he trailed off, repeating his apology as he took Victor's proffered hand. 
"Don't apologize," he said gently. "Isn't that what you always tell me?" Letting Lucca use him for balance, Victor allowed Lucca to set their pace. As they walked down the hall, he said, "Cohen has offered to watch your health, and inform us if it looks like the fever will go too far. Since I assume you aren't going to give up on this easily, and I assume he will be...more pragmatic than myself, will you agree to stop if he tells you to? I'm sure I'll be telling you to take it off in a day or two, regardless, and I know I won't be heeded, but his opinion will be more medically sound than my own." He gave a wistful smirk, "Either we both agree to trust his judgement, in either case, or I'll just panic and rip the thing off of you rather than take the risk, and both of us will be upset."
Barely pausing a moment to process his words, Lucca frowned slightly and gave a firm nod. "Yes, of course. Absolutely." He stopped and turned to look Victor in the eyes, his expression softly earnest, "It's okay, you don't have to worry so hard about this. I know telling you not to won't even sorta make you stop, but still, you don't have to. I wanna see this through, you know I'm gonna try and fight through whatever it throws at me, especially now that I've gone this far...but I'm not gonna let it seriously mess me up or, spirits forbid, kill me or something...it's not even remotely worth it, at all. So yeah, I'd be only too happy to have the doc's advice on this, 'cause you're right, he'll know much better than either of us what 'too far' looks like."
"It took nearly six months," Victor said wryly as they entered the kitchen, "but it seems we did benefit from having a doctor. Not that he hasn't been a boon so far," he amended, "but don't you think it's funny how it has never once been for medical reasons? Especially considering we call him doctor?"
"Heh, yeah...that is kinda ridiculous, now that you mention it. He's done practically everything but doctoring, so far." Lucca agreed, "He gets to fit some of it in now, at any rate." Upon entering, Victor forced Lucca to sit as he made a light lunch.
----
The next day saw a marked decline in Lucca's health. His fever had risen again, despite the medicine holding it back, and he had begun to shiver and sweat once more. He was tired and weak, and had five more days to go. Cohen stood over him, holding out the thermometer. "Open your mouth. I need to track your temperature closely, seeing as how that's going to be the indicator of whether it's going to kill you or not; it doesn't matter how strong your body is, if you hit a certain temperature, you aren't going to survive it." Victor sat nearby, watching closely and with no small amount of trepidation, where he had been nearly continuously since the day before.
Lucca made a face, undermined slightly by his obvious illness, and said, "Oooh, look, we get complimentary science lessons. Score." His voice was wavering, though apparently his spirit was not. Cohen rolled his eyes while Lucca complied, opening his mouth so the doctor could put the thermometer in it.
After a few moments, Cohen took it back, noting the reading in a book. Then, measuring out some clear liquid into a small cup, he passed it to Lucca and added, "You're progressing as expected. The last two days are going to be extremely unpleasant, but I honestly expect you to lose lucidity by the day after tomorrow. Do you want to be sedated? It would be just as easy to put you under and wake you up when the this is wrapped up. It's not as though anything is likely to happen, and frankly, even if it did, you wouldn't be able to do anything anyways. You might as well sleep through it, since your alternative experience is going to be delusion and pain."
Scowling slightly, he shook his head, "No, that would be stupid. If I'm doing this shit I don't wanna nap through it like some pansy. Even if it is going to be a shitty time." Peering suspiciously into the cup, he sniffed at it and asked once again, "What is this? Same stuff as before?"
Cohen made a conceding expression. "Your decision. I'll keep a log of whatever you decide to ramble about. And when you lose it completely, I'm taking direction from him," he pointed his thumb at Victor. "To answer your question: yes. Basically. Similar effect. It's tweaked slightly, hopefully to greater result. And it should taste like a cross between a candy strawberry and a sugar cube."
"Oh lovely, that's just what I need. Records of delirious ramblings. Great." He snorted. "But yes, do listen to him, I approve of this call." He punctuated the statement with a thumbs up. Eyeing the cup for a moment longer, he gave a shrug and gulped it down. The bitterness of the original medicine had been layered with an overwhelmingly sugary fruit-like taste, making this iteration taste horrible for entirely different reasons. The druid cringed, giving his head a hard shake, "Augh, that's brutal...ugh."
Grinning, Cohen added, "If by the end of this trip I've ruined berries for you as much as you and the tiny monster ruined citrus for me, we'll be even." Gathering up his things, he turned to leave, "Well, that should be all for now. I'll be back in a few hours. Call me if anything goes wrong," Cohen said, leaving the room to Lucca and Victor.
Victor watched him leave before turning his gaze back to Lucca. "Do you need anything?" he asked.
"No, I'm fine," Lucca gave him a faint, knowing smile, "I'll let you know when I do."
"Alright," Victor conceded. He sat for a few moments, fidgeting, before he stood and moved to his things. He retrieved his violin, and began to play softly, giving his hands and mind something to do. Lucca closed his eyes as he listened, enjoying the familiar sound. After a little while, Victor was interrupted by the sound of his name. Having caught his attention, Lucca beckoned him over. Victor put the instrument down and moved to the edge of the bed, kneeling down to bring his face close to Lucca's, his expression expectant.
"No no...don't stop...just c'mere..." He said with a shake of his head, guesturing towards the violin. With a patient smile, Victor stood and gathered his instrument before returning to the bedside. Perching on the edge of the bed near Lucca, he continued where he had left off. His tail, normally wrapped tightly about his waist, had uncoiled with lack of attention, and was swishing back and forth like a conductor's baton, keeping the rhythm of the song he played. This brought a smile to the younger man's face, and he watched this unintentional performance with no small amusement as the now-familiar drowsiness began to creep over him once more. As the song drew to its end, he reached up and trailed his fingers lightly along the appendage as it swept by, shooting Victor a playful grin. Victor jumped at the touch, his concentration broken. He pursed his lips, a faint blush tinting his pale skin as he realized what he had been doing, his tail instinctively coiling up tightly beside him.
"Aww...no...it was good." Lucca objected, reaching over and attempting to gently coax his tail to uncurl. His eyes flicked up to Victor's as he did so, watching for any indication of offense. Victor rolled his eyes, still blushing, but unfurled his tail nonetheless. "See? Better." The druid smiled, "It can't feel so good to keep it all tight like that..." As he spoke he guided the tail loosely around his shoulders as if it were a shawl and gave the spaded end a light tickle. "This's better."
Victor made a light 'geh' sound at the tickle and flicked Lucca's chin with the tip of his tail, leaving it draped along Lucca's shoulders. Shaking his head in resignation, he turned back to his music. "Whatever makes you happy..." he said with a good-natured sigh.
----
Cress was eating a burrito in the mess hall when he saw Cohen walk in towards him. “Hey Doc,” he said, swallowing. “What’s up?”
Cohen had a rather grave look on his face and seemed unable to look him directly in his eyes as he ventured, “...I hesitate to ask this of you, seeing as its a rather large favour...but I need to ask if you would consider lending me your bracelet for the next few evenings.” He continued quickly, “I wouldn’t ask on a normal situation, since I know it’s a lot, but seeing as how Lucca is becoming progressively worse, it seems dangerous to leave him unattended and I’m unfortunately the only one who has the medical experience to know the difference between a deadly fever and an almost-deadly fever. He is unlikely to die; the chance is very small I know. We are likely being paranoid, but…”
“Geeze, yeah, sure,” Cress cut him off. He pulled off the woven band and tossed it lightly over, confusing Cohen. He asked, “What do you need it for anyway?”
The question confused Cohen further. “...It’s...the full moon tonight?” he replied.
“Oh yeah!” Cress said, looking surprised. “Ha! Forgot that entirely.” He paused for a beat, “Ooooh, yeah, I get it now! It ain’t Lu that needs it; you need it to keep doctoring. Ok, cool, makes sense. Yeah, totally, do that thing. Lu looks like shit, so definitely, keep an eye on him.”
“Really? Not even a second thought?” Cohen asked, tying it on his own wrist.
Cress asked good naturedly, “The fuck is there to think about?” smiling and taking another bite of burrito.
Cohen shrugged, “It’s just, I’m not strictly needed, there’s little I can do for him either way, and now you’ll be forced to be a dog for no reason, when you don’t have to.”
Cress shrugged in turn. “I don’t know why you all make such a big fuckin’ deal out of it. Like, maybe Erzebet? ‘Cause he’s a mean fucker of a dog, but like, the rest of us? Whatever. It’s more ridiculous than anything.”
Cohen considered this before replying, “Having my intelligence and my humanity taken from me is..." he trailed off. "I don’t like losing myself. It’s...uncomfortable, to say the least of it.”
Cress’ head bobbed about as he thought about it, until he nodded, “Yeah. Makes sense. I don’t really care. It’s just like getting super drunk, without like, giving you a headache and ruining your life.”
“That...is one way to think about it.”
“...Do you wanna like, keep it? Like, if it’s such a big deal to you…”
He made a look of shock at the magnitude of Cress’ offer. “You’d honestly just give this to me?”
“Yeah,” he shrugged, “Like, it’s great, having the choice and stuff, but like, if it’s such a big deal to you, then you can have it. I don’t care that much.”
Cohen looked at the bracelet and to Cress in turn before shaking his head, “That is far too much to ask or take from someone. No, no I will use it for the moment, because the last thing we need is for him to accidentally kill himself now, but I’ll give it back.” He looked at Cress with astonishment, “Really?” Cress just shrugged, confused at Cohen’s confusion. The doctor just shook his head, exhaling heavily. “Do you want to be sedated for the night?”
“Nah, worst I’ll do is probably wander around,” Cress waved him off. “I’ll just make sure doors are shut.”
Cohen shook his head again, “Well, it’s your decision.” He looked at Cress, “Thank you.”
“Eh, no big,” he said. “Just make sure Lu’s ok, right?”
“It would be pathetic if he died over this,” Cohen said dryly as he walked outside.
----
On this final journey, Cohen had reclaimed the room he had been using before. Cress, Ryuji and Pierce took one of the bunk rooms, while Victor and Lucca took the other. Nisa was given the other small room as a courtesy, mainly out of respect for her privacy, though she had spent the first while investigating the ship’s navigation system with interest. As she did, she asked questions of Mirilarin, particularly of Riolythe and its people. Despite his less-than-extensive knowledge of the topic, she showed a marked preference for speaking with Ryuji over everyone else; no one present had any issues with that, between their own personal pursuits and their natural aversion to Nisa. Cress in particular avoided her, thanks to her choice in friends and complacency in keeping petrified people as lawn ornaments. When she finished in the control and engine rooms, satisfied that she could run the ship once it was in her possession, she retired to her quarters to wait for landing. Ryuji walked with her, engaged in their conversation. They spoke on a variety of topics, Ryuji taking the opportunity to ask questions about undeath, this being his first real opportunity to talk to someone other than Xander about it. She welcomed his questions, all too willing to acclimate him to the veritable culture of manners and customs shared among the undying of the world.
Nisa proved herself to be a rather polite and amiable person, when not caught in a poor mood. She had little patience for ‘vivans’, the truly living mortals, with their shifting fancies and short lifespans, hardly ever to be counted on for anything. It wasn’t as though she disliked them, but her views were not unlike someone who had no skill with or love of children. For Ryuji, however, she was more than willing to extend her patience and knowledge.
They discussed the means of Ryuji’s birth, to which she extended her sympathy: she had planned and executed her undeath of her own accord, and the thought of it being sprung upon someone without choice, warning or guidance was awful. She had no insight into his particular powers or nuances, having not met an icy vampire before, and certainly not one who had born a living child, something she hadn’t even heard of before. He discussed his life, his family, and she warned him away from getting tangled in the affairs of surface dwellers and vivans. It wasn’t worth it, in her opinion. Still, he was new at this, and he would pick it up eventually.
She wasn’t incredibly forthcoming with details of herself, but it seemed less like she was secretive and more as though she, in her long years of silent study, had a somewhat diluted sense of self and purpose. She was a wizard and a Valparisian, a member of the advanced, ancient civilization that had long ago crumbled to dust. In the past, she was a developer of magitech systems: highly complicated arcane infrastructures that controlled technology, an example being the navigation system of the submarine they were currently riding. In the pursuit of her obsession with study and advancement, she had chosen to embrace undeath as a means to have the uninterrupted time to make some real progress on her work. Unfortunately, she succeeded in the process to achieve undeath, and proceeded to become so absorbed in her bookwork that she did not notice her civilization and its advancements crumble. By the time she left her study with a revolutionary new way to improve processing speeds in multi-application habitat control modules, Valpariso and its technology were long lost to the annals of time. Now, she scoured the Underdark for vestiges of Valpariso, looking for the tools and artifacts needed to resurrect her culture. Apparently, the people frozen in the tomb she had discovered, and in other tombs like it, could be reawoken; bits and pieces of technology were everywhere, and there was at least one buried city that could be risen and reactivated. The crown she had so recently found and lost to the thief was enchanted to give the emperor who wore it all of the knowledge he would need to rule his vast empire; it would be perfect for giving her the insight necessary to restore Valpariso and its citizens.
Ryuji listened to this, and postulated the question of what she was planning to do about the people who were currently living in the land where Valpariso once stood. They had covered much of the globe in their day, and now a multitude of cultures now flourished where once there was one; it was unlikely that the current inhabitants of whatever country held this sunken city she spoke of would be terribly happy to be displaced by people from nearly 5000 years ago. This news took her by surprise: surely the people would recognize and embrace the superior technology and culture, and honestly, how could the current surface armies compete with those of Valpariso? It seemed Nisa wasn’t perhaps the most well-versed in politics or anthropology, or perhaps anything as much as technology, and in her zeal to resurrect the people and advancements she missed, she perhaps hadn’t given the ramifications of her actions as much thought as she could have. Ryuji decided to leave the topic for the time being.
They conversed at great length until Ryuji paused and noted, with a vague interest, that he was hungry. Nisa raised an eyebrow. “I need blood, or I start to...I don’t know, become obsessed with it.”
Nisa made an expression of understanding, “Oh, yes, that. I don’t have that problem. That’s reserved for vampires and wights. It must have been a while if it’s bothering you.”
“I ate before we boarded...how long have we been talking?”
This seemed to shock the woman slightly. “Already? I would have thought you were of much stronger make than that.”
“Huh?” Ryuji seemed confused, and perhaps a bit offended.
She seemed still taken back, “Well, I’ve known some vampires, and they can go months without eating. I’ve heard tell that one feed will last easily for days and days before the hunger’s back, and even when they start to feel it again, it’s easily ignored. I know one who had gone years without eating. Weak bodied, or weak willed, undead are the ones who need to eat more.” She shrugged, “Guess you didn’t strike me as either.”
Ryuji’s expression shifted from shock to sullen contemplation, “...M’not weak willed…” he muttered. He spoke up as he continued, “And I’m certainly not weak bodied. I’ve always gotten hungry quickly. I’ve gotten stronger over the last few years, and that’s never changed.”
Nisa gave another shrug, “I’m no expert. Maybe that’s just another peculiarity. You’re much more...vivan, than any undead I’ve seen, and you can have vivan children. Maybe you just...have more ‘un’ than ‘dead’, than most. Look like a vivan, eat like a vivan. Sucks to be you, I guess. You really got the short end of the undead stick.”
He gave a snort and narrowed his eyes, thinking. Eventually, he mumbled, “...That’s what I get, for having a curse meant to drive good people mad…” He stood up and walked to the door, “Please excuse me.”
With a short wave she said, “No trouble,” and sat back in the lounge chair she had brought with her.
Stepping into the hallway, he closed the door and paused. He hadn’t given much thought to who he was going to ask for assistance. Lucca was feeling ill from the cloak, so it wouldn’t do to drain him; Victor was already hovering over him protectively when they were leaving, so by now he was probably worried sick, making it rude to ask him as well, though it wasn’t as though Ryuji was particularly comfortable with him at any rate. He had never actually told Cress and Percival about his condition, though they both obviously knew he was undead at this point; it lent an awkward cast to an already awkward conversation. He sighed as he thought of the only other person on the ship. He stepped across the hall to the adjacent door and knocked on it.
Cohen’s voice answered, “Yes?”
“Can I come in?”
“...I don’t know why you’d want to, but go ahead?” he replied. Ryuji opened the hatch and stepped into the room. Cohen had turned about from his desk to look at him expectantly.
Ryuji looked at him for a moment before sighing and saying plainly, “I’m hungry, Lucca is in no shape to ask, and honestly, it is slightly less awkward asking you than everyone else here.”
Cohen looked at him blankly for a second before making a snorted laughing noise, poorly stifling his laughter. Ryuji rolled his eyes. When he finished, he said, “Sure. Why not? Charity and teamwork and all that.” He stood up and walked over to where his belongings were kept and began to rifle through them, adding “But, in exchange, we’re going to try some things.”
“What?”
Cohen retrieved a syringe, “I’m interested in what exactly about blood satiates you. No real reason, just an interesting biological...arcane? Medical? An interesting question, regardless of what field it falls under. So, certainly, have my blood. In exchange, I’ll have some knowledge.” He walked over to him, “Question one: does it have to be directly taken from a living body, or does it just have to be fresh enough? Here, use this,” he passed his watch over to Ryuji. “Be as precise as possible. I’ll take blood, you note the time delay, and we’ll see what the margin is. If there is none, then there is a chance that there’s a more ephemeral quality to this than just blood.”
Looking from the doctor to the watch, Ryuji made a look of confusion and derision. “...You are disturbed.”
“My terms, or you can go ask Cress, who will ask awkward questions like ‘why weren’t you honest with me?’, or, one of the two men with unquestionable and unknown ties to devilry.” Ryuji rolled his eyes and sighed. “You’re whiny and pretentious, and you’re only asking me because you’d rather deal with the evil you know than the evil you don’t.”
“I knew this was a bad idea…” Ryuji said.
“What, that’s not it? Is it because you still feel guilty, or because you knew I wouldn’t argue because I’m ‘good’?”
“Because I figured you’d be the least likely to make this into a big awkward ordeal!” he retorted.
Cohen replied with all his sarcasm, “You’re the one dragging this out. I’m waiting for you to shut up and start noting times.”
“Ugh,” Ryuji groaned out of frustration. “I don’t even know why I’m hungry so soon anyways.”
“Because you’ve been in there talking with her for almost three days,” Cohen replied. This news shocked Ryuji slightly, and he looked at him with disbelief. Cohen continued, “What? Without someone living, and without the diurnal cycle, you have no reference for time passing. Keep that in mind, or you’re going to lose a lot of time...knitting, or whatever it is you’re going to do with eternity.”
Ryuji made to make a retort, but instead he pursed his lips, distracted by his own thoughts. After a momentary pause, he said, “Alright, what am I counting to?”
Readying the needle, Cohen said, “Let’s start with a 5 second delay, and work from there.”
----
Lucca was sleeping fitfully, the fever deepening despite Cohen's attempts to medicate it away. Suddenly, he felt something cold and wet touch his ear, snapping him awake. Cress, in his wolf form, poked him inquisitively with his nose, with the unmistakable face of a worried canine. Victor, for his part, was sleeping nearby; someone had left the door open, and Cress' entrance had gone unnoticed.
With a sharp intake of breath, the druid flung himself upright and scrambled back to the far corner of the bed. He stared at the wolf in mute terror, his fever-fogged mind not immediately recognizing the creature as his friend. Luckily, the time it took for him to find his voice was enough for his mind to sort itself out. With a heavy sigh the tension left him, and he mumbled, "Oh, Cressy...'s you...what're you doin' here?" Cress hopped up, putting his front paws on the bed and reaching out towards Lucca with his muzzle, his posture and expression belying his knowledge that something was wrong with Lucca. The druid reached out to ruffle the scarlet fur atop his head, his movements weak and shaky. "Iss okay dude...you don't gotta start worryin' too." Cress leaned into the touch and whined softly. As Lucca ruffled his fur, he pulled himself lightly onto the bed and lay down beside him, looking up with worry in his green eyes. "I'm serious...don't worry, I'm cool." He said earnestly, his hand moving to scratch behind the wolf's ear. The corners of his mouth quirked up slightly as he added, "Heh, I dunno if you wanna lay there, bro. Get in shit when he wakes up, prolly." He guestured toward Victor with a toss of his chin, "Or more'n'likely weird yourself out when you do..." Lucca continued to stroke Cress' fur and within moments his expression started to become glassy. The jolt of fear at waking up to a wolf inches from his face had sapped what little energy he'd had left. Slowly, gingerly he lay back down beside the wolf, his eyelids beginning to droop as he continued to pet the creature. Cress lay his head down as Lucca fell asleep, sitting protectively against the druid.
When Cohen entered the room quietly some time later to check on the patient, he was met with a white wolf laying on the bed, who looked up at him as he entered. The doctor paused and pursed his lips. "Really? You couldn't even remember to close your door?" he asked the dog. Cress sniffed the air tentatively and decided that the doctor was not someone to be overly concerned about; he lay his head back down towards Lucca again. Rolling his eyes, Cohen approached the bed to take Lucca's temperature and pulse once more. Cress looked to him with trepidation as he approached, and the doctor muttered, "I'd rather not wake everyone, so I'm trusting that we both know who the higher-ranked wolf is..." True to his guess, Cress did not challenge or stir at Cohen's motions, as he reached over Cress to put the thermometer in Lucca's mouth. Drained from illness as he was, he did not wake, though he continued to sleep restlessly.
After collecting the information on his vitals, Cohen stood to leave. Cress looked at him with concern, then turned back to Lucca once more. As Cohen went to leave, he whispered, "Please tell me what the looks on their faces are when they wake up spooning each other." He turned and grinned sardonically towards Victor, who was lying in bed with his eyes open: the soft noises of a wolf were not enough to wake the light sleeper, but the mumbling doctor certainly was. Victor did not reply, and Cohen left once more.
----
Cress was woken up rudely the next morning by a sharp rap to his face. He woke with a start, struggling to determine what was going on and who had hit him. He saw Lucca inches from his face; his fever had continued to worsen and he thrashed about in a weak delerium. Confused, Cress pulled backwards, managing to fall onto the floor for his efforts. Lucca stirred from his fitful sleep, as Victor looked on from the adjacent bed. The remains of his breakfast were nearby; apparently he did not want to be far for long. 
Looking between the other two, Cress asked, "The fuck?"
Victor replied calmly, "You've proven yourself to be a very loud dog when kept away from people. I was already asleep when you came in last night, and by the time I woke, you were already very comfortable. I didn't want to disturb Lucca further by risking your disobedience. Apparently we need to teach you to stay off of furniture."
"Geeeze..." Cress intoned, rubbing his face with his palm. "I'm sorry. I guess I was worried, an'...yeah."
"Try something else tonight, perhaps?" Victor said flatly. Lucca, weak with fever, looked between the two men with confusion, muttering softly. Victor stood and went to him, coaxing him to lie back down and putting a cool cloth on his forehead.
Cress winced, "Is this worth it? I mean..." he trailed off, looking uncertain.
"I certainly hope so," Victor said, his face and voice carefully blank.
"He's gonna be ok, right?"
"Yes. Cohen swears that he will know if something goes too far, and we will stop this if that happens. When the twelve days are over, he should be perfectly healthy once more."
Nodding at Victor's response, Cress added, "Do you need me to get anything? Do something?"
Victor shook his head, "No thank you. We should be fine. Perhaps don't get in bed with him tonight."
"Yeah, sorry..." he replied, scratching behind his head self-consciously. "I just...didn't want to lock myself in a room, 'cause I know I get upset, right? Like, I can tonight, if you want, but I don't wanna get on everyone's nerves and disturb Lucca more, right?" He thought for a second, then added quietly, looking down, "I'll probably just do whatever you say, if you tell me. I'm gonna be worried about Lu, so I'm gonna want to be in here, but if you tell me to get down or to get out, I'm not gonna argue with you."
Pausing in his fussing, Victor sighed heavily. He turned to look at Cress, "I'm sorry. I'm being rude. I know you can't help what you do when you're a wolf, and I know you're doing your best to support Lucca. You're right, if you're going to howl in the other room, then it's far better that you're in here. Just, come in before I fall asleep tonight, please."
Cress nodded. He stood up and made to leave, "I'm sorry..."
"Don't apologize; you've done absolutely nothing wrong. I'm sorry for being so short."
Shrugging, Cress added, "I don't blame you. You're worried." He went to the door, "Let me know if you or Lu need anything, k?"
"Of course. Thank you," Victor said, turning back to the feverish Lucca.
----
“Webber, you can enchant anything, yes?”
Pierce turned around to see Cohen enter the room, already talking. He blinked at the question before replying, “Well, maybe not anything, but, I suppose most things.”
“Can you copy the enchantment on this bracelet?” He passed over the woven band of bright cloth.
Looking it up and down, Pierce frowned. “This…Where did you get this?”
“It’s Cress’. He got it from Whale Mage, or whatever the fey is named. The aquatic fey who restored Erzebet. Everyone got something; he got this. It’s obviously designed to give him more control over the werewolf curse. I, on the other hand,” Cohen huffed, “got a pen that writes faster. Truly necessary. At any rate, if you can copy this, than we can have duplicates, and none of us need worry about it again.”
Pierce continued looking at the bracelet. He muttered, “What does this...I can guess what it does, but...how did it…?” He shook his head, “I’m...not sure…”
Cohen folded his arms, “Well, it’s worth investigating. I can’t replicate it, that’s for certain. I can see at least three separate spells woven in there; one is Trueform, and one is Permanency, but I can’t quite parse the third. It’s some sort of polymorph spell though. I don’t know about you, but this curse is worse than an inconvenience, and this could be the best chance we have at a solution. You must be able to do something, you didn’t become an ascended crafter for nothing.”
Pierce shook his head, “There’s a fourth too, and I don’t know any of these spells. I’d need scrolls of them, and that’s always a gamble at best. I don’t know. I’m not saying I couldn’t do it, but...there’s got to be some other method.” He made to pass the item back.
Cohen raised an eyebrow, “Honestly? You're giving up without even trying?"
Balking, Pierce replied, “We-well...I couldn’t do it now, I don’t have any of the materials, or the scrolls, and...and who knows how long it would take to finish? It seems like a longshot. Weeks or months of work without any guarantee of success."
"Why should that matter? We turn into dogs! Wolves! That doesn’t bother you enough to even try?" Cohen asked. "You’re the one going back to a home, a city, and you don’t care enough about turning into a wild animal to even investigate this?” Pierce fumbled, so Cohen continued, "Copy the enchantment from it now, on the boat, then you can replicate it later when you have the tools.”
“It will take a very long time, and that’s if it would work at all! I don’t know if I could make it, it’s extremely complicated, and the amount of resources that would need to be sunk into it without even knowing it would work…” He shook his head, “And you said you were leaving Mirilarin anyway; you aren’t going to hang around for months to see if I can make it do...anything, least of all what it’s supposed to. I'm not getting your hopes up for that.”
Cohen hissed, “You are a literal king, money means nothing. I will gladly wait months, or years, if it means I no longer turn into a mindless dog against my will. Why are you making excuses?” His eyes narrowed more, “Why don’t you want a solution? Do you have a better idea, to make it worth not even trying?”
“I...well...no. Nothing, really, no,” Pierce stuttered.
“Then why aren’t you try...ing…” Cohen trailed off into thought. A scowl crept across his face, "Why aren't you trying? This benefits you just as much, if not more, than me. This is no favour, no boon to me that isn't for you as well. Why don't you want it? What do you know?"
"Nothing!" Pierce retorted. "I can't do it! Find something else!" He tossed the bracelet back towards Cohen and stormed away, ending the conversation. The doctor watched him leave through narrowed eyes. He tied the bracelet back on absently before returning to check on the increasingly-ill Lucca.
----
That night Cress came into Lucca's room earlier, before the sun had set on the surface above them. Victor greeted him simply, his attention on the sweating, murmuring form of Lucca. The elf sat in a corner silently, and when the time came, he shifted into his canid form just as soundlessly. The wolf inched towards Lucca's bed, warily looking at Victor.
The older man turned towards the wolf and sighed. "I'm sorry I frighten you so much, apparently," he said. Cress held himself timidly, obviously afraid of upsetting Victor. "I don't know much about dogs, so you're on your own." Victor turned back to Lucca. Slowly, Cress crept forward to lean his chin on Lucca's bed. He watched Lucca writhe from the fever, and he whined softly. He reached forwards with his muzzle; when he went to put his paw on the bed, Victor stopped him with a sharp tutting noise and he remained where he was. So it was that Victor and a wolf watched over Lucca that long night, and the next, occasionally joined by the doctor as the druid slipped further and further into illness.
----
It was another two long days and nights. Lucca was so weak to as be in a coma-like state, burning with a fever that could not be tamed. Cohen remained in the room with Victor constantly by the end, both men unwilling to let anything go wrong and risk the druid's life.
On the morning of the eighth day at sea, as it seemed that Lucca couldn't get much worse, the fever suddenly broke. With a flash of flame, the robe that Lucca had been wearing ignited and became a pair of insubstantial wings made of glowing, heatless fire. Lucca settled immediately, and fell into a peaceful slumber. Both observers gave a sigh of relief.
After giving the sleeping man a quick check-up to ensure that his health had indeed been restored, Cohen made to return to his room to catch up on his sleep; they would be landing in Mirilarin later that day. Victor thanked him sincerely for his help; Cohen waved him off and walked out of the room.
Victor looked at Lucca, fatigue plain on his every feature as he slipped off to sleep where he sat in the chair beside Lucca's bed.
----
Lucca's eyes fluttered open. The first thing he noticed was his ravenous hunger, followed by his health. The last thing he remembered was feeling awful, but now he felt perfectly well. He turned around, and saw Victor unconscious in a chair beside the head of the bed. The circles under his eyes, and the fact that he was sitting up, suggested that he hadn't slept in a while.
Lucca noticed the soft glow of his new wing-shaped flames; the robe was gone, though he knew, somehow, that he could pull the wings off if he so chose. He had beaten the trial. Moving slowly, he sat up, taking care to make as little noise as possible so as not to disturb Victor. He spent a brief moment discreetly inspecting his 'wings' with a strange look on his face. They weren't wings in any strict sense; he couldn't move or feel them, making them more like a flaming aura than limbs. Once satisfied, he turned to the older man. He looked at Victor for a few long moments, his expression a mix of sympathy and guilt, then reached over to gently take his hands, softly calling his name as he did so.
Victor's eyes shot open, waking in a start. He blinked, looking at Lucca and obviously trying to collect his bearings. As reality registered in his mind, a smile crept across his tired face and he said, "Oh good, you're awake. How do you feel?"
"A hell of a lot better," he replied with a small smile. It quickly faded, and looking apologetic once more he added, "Physically anyway. Like a bit of a jackass otherwise." Pulling the other man into a tight hug, he murmered into his shoulder, "I'm so sorry...If I'd've known it'd be like that beforehand, that it'd get that bad, I wouldn't've taken it...I didn't mean to put you through that..."
Returning the embrace, Victor said softly, "Don't worry. Everything was fine. You had the strength, and the doctor managed to keep my fears from holding you back. It is done, and by this evening, we will be home. We will finish this." He lay heavily on Lucca, exhausted but unwilling to let go of the other man. Lucca simply nodded firmly, hugging him a bit tighter. After a moment he moved fluidly to lay back on the bed, pulling Victor down with him and curling around him almost protectively. Victor put up no resistance, already mostly asleep. "You can go," he whispered, nodding off, "You've been in bed all week. Don't feel...like you have to stay..." He yawned softly, "I just...need a nap..."
"Oh, you shut up. I ain't goin' anywhere," Lucca murmered back, placing a light kiss between his brows and settling more comfortably against him. "There's nowhere I'd rather be."
Victor smiled vaguely. "That's good..." he whispered, barely audible, before falling asleep proper.
----
Lucca walked down the hall towards the command, wondering how long it was until landfall. As he walked by, he heard a voice remark, "Well, yours is probably the fastest recovery I will ever see from a fever that severe." He twisted his head about, and saw through the open door to the common room Cohen standing and flipping through a book pulled from one of the shelves. He did not look towards Lucca, and reshelved the book before taking a second and flipping through it as well.
"I don't doubt it." Lucca came to a stop in the doorway, looking thoughtful. After a long moment, he said, "I just wanted to say...thank you, Doctor, for everything you've done. I really appreciate it...I seriously doubt I would have gotten through this without your help...so yeah, thanks."
"Heh. Hardly. What I did barely amounted to more than taking your temperature and giving you painkillers," he said. "You would have made it without any effort on my part." He looked up and added as an afterthought, "You are very resiliant though, I'll give you that. That likely would have killed most people."
"Never mind," Lucca shot back with a lopsided smile, "without you doing that, Victor woulda yanked the thing off me so fast the minute I started getting really bad, we'd've all gotten whiplash. And while that would have been fair of him, in that case I definitely wouldn't have made it through to the end." He gave a soft snort, "Thanks, I guess?"
Cohen considered that, then shrugged, "You're right at that, I guess. He wanted to. Ohh, did he ever want to. The implied threats against me by the last day, should I screw up, were both brutal and unforgiving. So thank you for not dying. I would have been right behind you."
"I can only imagine." He made an odd, somewhat bemused face and shrugged. "And no problem, I suppose? It's pretty awesome, the whole 'not dying' thing. Anyway, I'll leave you to the books, I just wanted to thank you before we docked and had All all up in our faces again." With that he turned to go.
"No trouble on my part," Cohen replied simply, switching books again.
Category:Advent of the All