Chapter Text
I don’t know exactly what a prayer is. / I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down / into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass, / how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields, / which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done? / Doesn’t everything die at last, and too soon? /Tell me, what is it you plan to do / with your one wild and precious life?
-"The Summer Day", Mary Oliver
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For a location well-advertised as a highly magical death trap, the Mighty Nein came out of Eiselcross almost entirely unscathed. They all had a couple new scars, and Fjord had bruises on his ass from an unplanned slide down a particularly icy tunnel that he’d been unwilling to ask the clerics to take care of, and Caduceus had a lingering cold, but he’d thought that was the worst of it. He went on thinking that until almost a week after they’d returned, when Caduceus fainted in the kitchen of the house in Rosohna.
Jester shrieked. Fjord lunged to catch him and did so clumsily; his knees hit the ground hard but he managed to stop Caduceus’s head from hitting the tile. Then the rest of the Nein was there, crowded around in a probably ill-advised way, and Caduceus blinked back to awareness about fifteen seconds later with all of his friends leaning over him.
“Heyyy,” Jester said. “You fainted.”
“Oh,” Caduceus blinked. “Huh.”
“Have you been feeling alright?” Caleb asked.
“A little under the weather,” Caduceus said. “I thought it was a cold.” He was pale beneath the gray fur, and shivering.
“Since when?” Veth asked.
“Since Eiselcross,” Caleb said. “Right?”
“That long?” Beau demanded. “Why didn’t you heal yourself?”
Fjord wondered the same thing. Caduceus had gotten sick in Eiselcross—“I think it’s just the cold getting to me,” he had told them, on the morning he was shivering even in the dome where the interior was temperate, and they’d just spent the whole night. That should have been the moment he realized it, but Fjord had shrugged it off. When Caduceus had been tired and achy later, he’d used Lay on Hands to cure him of illness. And when Caduceus had been just as stiff and pale the next morning, he’d written it off as the cold.
Now, he was worried. Beau looked worried too, and her frown deepened when Caduceus said, “I tried that.”
“It didn’t work?”
He shook his head. “Not really.”
“How do you feel?” she asked. Caduceus sat up gingerly; Fjord was instantly hyperaware that his head had been in his lap and was belatedly embarrassed, even though Caduceus just patted his leg in thanks as he slowly righted himself.
“A little dizzy,” he said. “Tired. Cold.”
“Let me try again,” Jester said.
Beau leaned in to look at him as Jester began to invoke the Traveler behind her. “Oh, shit.”
“What?” Fjord asked.
“That’s it,” Jester cut in. “Do you feel any better, Caduceus?”
He hesitated. “No,” he said. “I don’t think so.” He shivered again.
“Are you cold?” Yasha asked. “I’ll get a blanket.”
“That’s so weird,” Jester said. “Is it a curse? Have you been cursed?”
“Not that I remember,” he said.
“Check out his veins,” Beau interrupted. She had leaned in so close to Caduceus’s face that it might have been awkward with anyone else, but he seemed unphased. Jester didn’t seem to realize this and leaned right in, too.
“I don’t see—oh, weird,” she said. “They’re all blue.”
“They’re what?” Fjord couldn’t help but lean in to look. Sure enough, the blue tinge to his veins was more visible on his face where the fur was short and fine.
“Here.” Yasha was back with a heavy comforter and she began to wind Caduceus in it. He let her.
“Let me...” Fjord reached for Caduceus’s hand and tried to cure disease again. It still felt a little odd, like pouring a warm light from his hand that never felt quite like his. Caduceus smiled at him. “Thank you.”
“Did it help?” Fjord asked.
“I don’t think so,” Caduceus said. “But I appreciate the care.”
“And you’ve just been sick for like a week?” Jester demanded. “That’s awful, why didn’t you tell us?”
“I thought it would go away,” he said. “And then my spells didn’t work and I wasn’t sure. I thought it might get better.”
“And then you fainted,” Caleb added, helpfully.
“Holy shit,” Beau said. “Next time you have to say, I’m sick! Just be like ‘hey, I feel like shit,’ Deucey! Say ‘I think I have a disease incurable by magic.’ Fuck!”
“At the time,” Caduceus said, with as much dignity as could be managed when he was shivering violently and burrito-wrapped in a blanket so thoroughly that he was struggling to extract an arm, “I thought that was an overreaction.”
“Do we think this is from Eiselcross?” Jester asked.
“We could ask DeRogna,” Beau said.
Caleb nodded. “It is possible she has seen this before. And we can do our own research.”
“We’ll make sure you get better,” Jester assured Caduceus.
“Thank you,” he said. “I appreciate that.” Fjord was comforted by the fact that he didn’t look worried—now that Fjord was checking, he looked tired and pale, but not worried.
“Who is going to see DeRogna?” Caleb asked. “I think it might be best if Fjord goes. He is the best—negotiator, you would say.”
“I’m going,” Beau crossed her arms.
“I want to go too,” Jester said.
“That’s probably enough,” Caduceus said. “Kind of a lot for a sudden visit.”
“Then I will go to the library,” Caleb agreed. “Veth, will you come with me? I can teleport us all to Rexxentrum and we can meet again afterwards.”
“Sure,” she said. “Yasha, Caduceus?”
“I think Caduceus should get some rest,” Caleb said.
“I’ll stay with him,” Yasha volunteered.
“We will be back very soon,” Caleb promised.
He sketched the circle into the dirt in the rooftop garden. They teleported into the Archive in Rexxentrum—no one seemed terribly surprised that Beau had failed to call ahead, and she quickly got Caleb and Veth settled.
Then Fjord, Beau, and Jester walked towards DeRogna’s house in the Candles. “Who’s going to take the lead in there?” Fjord asked.
“Kinda thought you would, Captain,” said Beau.
“I can take over if things are going poorly,” he said. “But you are the Expositor of the Cobalt Soul. She might take you more seriously than the rest of us sellswords.”
“We’re the Mighty Nein,” Jester said, frowning.
“No, alright,” Beau said. “But you’ve got to back me up.”
“Of course,” he said. They were still in their Xhorhasian clothes, Fjord realized, when they were getting odd looks. Nothing to be done about it now. Jester didn’t seem to notice. Beau seemed to revel in it.
Luckily, Vess’s house was familiar. They went up to the door and knocked. A servant answered, and Beau lifted her chin. “Beauregard Lionnett, Expositor with the Cobalt Soul. These are my associates, Fjord and Jester, with the Mighty Nein. We’re here to see Vess.”
“Uhh,” the doorman wavered. “Do you have an appointment?” His expression suggested that he didn’t think so, but was too nervous to say it outright.
“She’ll want to see us,” Fjord put in, with false confidence. It was enough—or maybe his tusks were enough, or Beau’s glare—to send him skittering off to get his mistress.
She was frowning when she came, but waved them into the parlor. They ended up all standing around awkwardly, because she didn’t offer them a seat.
“I did not expect you to be back so soon,” she said. “It is considered polite to make an appointment.”
“Kinda in a rush,” Beau said. “You know of any sickness that can’t be healed with magic?”
“Yes,” she said.
“That you could get up North,” Fjord put in.
“Caduceus is sick,” Jester jumped into an explanation, “And I tried to heal him and Fjord tried to heal him and he tried to heal himself and none of it worked, which is super weird, and he’s really cold, and his veins are kind of blueish which is pre-tty freaky. And we were thinking, you know Vess, she knows about all this weird stuff that happens in Eiselcross so we though, maybe she can tell us what’s happening to Caduceus!”
“Well,” Vess said, after a pause to absorb Jester’s words. “That sounds like something called the Frigid Woe.”
“That doesn’t sound great,” Fjord offered.
“It was a disease created to slow down potential entrants. The sufferer has fatigue, chills, and the blue veins you mentioned. It progresses slowly, but if it is not cured, the sufferer will die and their body will turn to ice.”
“Well, shit,” said Beau.
“And what is the cure?” Fjord said. “As Jester mentioned, our spells don’t seem to be helping him.”
“The antidote was manufactured by Aeor’s mages,” she said. “It can be found in Aeor.”
“I don’t suppose there happens to be any that’s been picked up,” he said. “For situations like this—we would be happy to reimburse the assembly, of course.”
“No,” she said. “We don’t have any on hand.”
“Then we can go back!” Jester said. “It progresses slowly, you said, so we can go and pick some up no problem.”
“A somewhat risky trip,” she said. “But I wish you well.”
“You won’t be coming with us?” Fjord asked. “We would...certainly appreciate your assistance. And of course would retrieve or look for anything else you might wish to find.”
“In another few months,” she said carelessly, “An expedition might be to my benefit. But no, I have no wish to return now.”
“But you said,” Jester was staring at her. “You said he would die and turn into a block of ice.”
“Which is unfortunate,” she said. “And I wish you all luck.”
“We were there to help you!”
“And were well compensated for your efforts. And aware of the risk,” she said coldly.
“You didn’t exactly mention the incurable disease that freezes you into an ice sculpture,” Fjord pointed out. “We might have been looking for some antidote just in case if you had.”
“You knew,” Beau said, suddenly.
“Pardon?”
“You knew Caduceus was sick,” she said. “He mentioned it a couple times. We all just thought it was the cold but—you knew about this. You knew what it was.”
“I knew it was a possibility,” she said.
Beau’s hands were balled into fists. It was clear, looking at her, that it was taking every scrap of her self-control to keep from launching herself at the wizard.
But it wasn’t Beau who moved next.
“You—you monster,” Jester cried, and lunged forward at Vess Derogna, Archmage of Antiquities of the Cerberus Assembly, and punched her in the face.
The bad news was that Vess Derogna could have killed them all on the spot. The good news was that she looked too stunned to try it. Her nose was crooked, and blood dripped from her split lip.
“Right,” Fjord said. “That’s settled, then. Goodbye.” He grabbed Jester by the collar. Beau looked stunned, but she had the sense to book it down the hall as well. They passed the alarmed-looking doorman, shoved past, and spilled out onto the street.
“Holy shit,” Beau said. “You just—Jester!”
“She deserved it!” Jester was crying, but she was also clearly spitting mad. “She didn’t care. Caduceus could die!”
“He won’t,” Beau said.
“Come on,” Fjord said, leading them in a speedwalk past the Candles and the Solstryce Academy, trying to get some distance.
“They don’t have any of the cure,” Jester said.
“We’re going back,” Beau said, like it was a foregone conclusion—which, Fjord realized only a second later, it was. “We’ll get some.”
“Okay,” Jester said. “We’ll find it.”
“We don’t need her,” Fjord said, despite his unease.
“Right,” Jester said, smiling through the last of her tears of rage.
They reached the Archive in record time. “Come on,” Beau said, striding back in, scanning the desks for Veth and Caleb. They were huddled over a book together, Caleb making notes. “Let’s go.” They looked up at the same time. “We know what it is. Let’s go.”
“What is it?” Caleb packed up his things with as much haste as his typical care allowed. Veth shoved her stuff haphazardly into her bag in a configuration only she understood, but that seemed to fit everything perfectly.
“Frigid Woe, which is some shit that Aeor’s mages came up with. Incurable by normal means. There’s a cure.”
“And you have it?”
“No,” Beau said. “It’s in Aeor. Only way to get it.”
“Are we returning?” Caleb caught on quickly.
“Yep,” Jester said.
“Without the aid of Vess,” Fjord put in. “She was not—interested.”
Caleb frowned deeply. He had started to cast Teleport, motioning them all close.
“Jester hit her,” Beau said, timing it just before the spell went off and Caleb’s eyes widened and then they were all in the living room at the Xhorhouse.
“Jester did what ?” Caleb demanded.
“Oh, hey,” said Caduceus. He and Yasha were sitting on the couch. “That was pretty fast.”
“Good news?” Yasha asked, and then caught sight of all their faces.
Beau explained, briefly. “So we’re going back to Eiselcross, right away,” she said. Then she looked at Caduceus sitting on the couch. “Or some of us are.”
“Some of us?” Veth asked.
“We don’t split up,” Jester said. “We all go. Then we can give Caduceus the cure right away.”
“In the past splitting up hasn’t gone great,” Veth agreed.
“I’d like to agree with you,” Caduceus said, “But I think I would slow you down.”
“Are you even feeling up for something like that?” Veth asked, casting a critical eye over Caduceus. He was hunched in on himself, blanket hitched up to his ears.
“I could probably do it,” Caduceus said. “But I don’t think it—it wouldn’t be a good time.”
“So Caduceus, he is staying,” Caleb said. “Who is staying with him?”
“Jester and Caduceus stay,” Beau pitched.
“Her magic, it does him no good,” Caleb reminded, “And I do not like the idea of going back there with no clerics.”
Jester nodded. “You guys can’t go back there without either of us.”
“Nobody has to stay,” Caduceus said. “I don’t like the idea of you guys being short-handed out there.”
“We will already be short-handed,” Caleb said, gesturing meaningfully at Caduceus.
Caduceus nodded, acknowledging. “Don’t see the need to make it worse.”
“And I don’t like the idea of you here alone,” Beau crossed her arms. “It’s gonna get worse, right? What if something happens?” She looked meaningfully at Fjord, who blinked at her, confused.
“Yeah, Caduceus,” Jester chimed in. “You’re sick, so you need someone to take care of you!”
“I’m good at taking care of myself,” Caduceus said. “Don’t worry about it.”
The expressions of the Mighty Nein suggested they were, in fact, worrying about it. “What if you—I don’t know, faint again?“ Fjord asked.
“I’d wake up on the floor, I guess,” Caduceus said steadily.
“Fjord wouldn’t be there to catch you,” Jester threw in, worriedly.
“I would like to stay,” Yasha said. The rest of them looked at her. She lifted her chin. “I don’t know too much about taking care of people, but I have some healing powers. I would like to be with Caduceus. And I do not like that place.”
“Well,” Veth said, “I do know about taking care of people. I’ll stay too. That gives you Caleb and Jester and Fjord and Beau. Is that enough?”
“We’ll manage,” Beau said.
“So will we,” Veth said.
“Thank you,” Caduceus said. “You really don’t both need to stay.”
“You’re supposed to get taken care of when you’re sick,” Jester put in again. “Weren’t you?”
“When I was a kid,” Caduceus allowed. “But I was—alone for a while before you all came by. I got pretty good at it.”
“Good at being alone?”
“Good at taking care of myself,” he said, “But that too.”
“That’s a sad thing to be good at,” Jester pronounced.
“I’m staying,” Yasha said. “You will not change my mind.”
Caduceus looked at her, and then Veth. “Thank you,” he said.
“Don’t mention it,” Veth said. “Nobody gets left behind.”
“We’ll use Sending a lot,” Jester said. “Every night to keep in touch!”
“I can do that too,” Caduceus said.
She rocked on her heels. “You’re going to be fine! We’re going to find the cure like, so fast.”
They split up then, scattering across the house to prepare. Beau was the last to go, lingering in the room. She leaned in to look at Caduceus again, who looked straight back. An impromptu staring contest ensued. Beau eventually blinked and looked away.
“Well?” Caduceus asked.
“You don’t look worried.”
“I have faith in you,” he said simply.
“Yeah, okay,” she said. “No pressure or anything.”
“None at all.”
“Only a matter of life or death,” she said.
“Isn’t everything?”
“Guess so,” she said. “Take care of yourself, Deuces.”
“Don’t have to,” he said cheerfully.
That startled a little huff of a laugh out of her. “Guess that’s true. Be here.”
“I will,” he said. “One way or another.”
“None of that cryptic bullshit,” she said. “Be here.”
“I’ll try.”
“Good,” she said. “Was kind of surprised Yasha said she’d stay. Kind of glad, though. She’s like—blessed by the gods and shit, right? That kind of place...”
“I’m glad to have her with me,” Caduceus said. “Though I know you could have used her.”
“Kind of weird that Fjord didn’t say anything,” she put in.
“Not really,” Caduceus said. “He likes to do things. Finding the cure will feel useful. Sitting here, watching things get worse—he’d feel useless. I’m glad he’s going.”
“No, you’re not,” she said.
“No,” he said. “I think it’s for the best. But I’m sorry he’s going.”
“You could ask him to stay,” Beau said. “Bet he would if you asked.”
“He would be restless and unhappy, and you need him,” Caduceus said. “And I’m gonna be fine, remember?”
“Yeah?”
“So I’ll see him again pretty soon,” he said.
“Don’t want to tell him anything first?”
“No,” Caduceus said.
“He’s an idiot,” Beau said. “He won’t figure it out on his own.”
“That’s alright,” he said. “Do you think you won’t find it?”
“We’ll fucking find it,” she said.
“Then stop trying to put my affairs in order,” he said. “It’ll all keep. I’ll see you again soon.”
She nodded. “Right.” She reached out and gripped his shoulder briefly and then left. In the hall, she flexed her hand, worried—even through his clothes and the blanket, she’d felt the chill emanating from his skin.