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He is coughing again.
Jote was brought to wake by the sounds of her master coughing himself awake. The strain of the day, nay, the whole of his life is once again catching up to him, with no amount of medicine able to quell the ailment.
All it could do is forestall its terrible return.
Jote tried to shut her eyes. Harder. Harder.
She wanted to fall back to sleep, knowing how Joshua would try to calm her while blood spewed from between his lips, to send her back to bed.
Yet she couldn’t. She had her duty, and that was to care for the Eikon of Flame. And what he needed the most was some medicine. To forestall that terrible return.
Her eyes opened to the sight of a writhing body past the dying fire, its embers only just emitting a soft orange glow, dulling in the cold air of the forest’s night. Some vestiges of smoke managed to still reach towards the star-speckled sky, though they only evaporated before they could even touch it.
Jote sat up in her bedroll, rubbing her eyes before training her gaze beyond the dying campfire, towards the man in his bedroll. The figure jerked about with each cough, doubling over on the floor and closing its body further and further in on itself. As if squeezing the body would stem the coughing.
Slowly, Jote lifted herself from her bedroll, the sounds of the night welcoming her back to consciousness. The winds, the branches that swayed, the bugs and the birds that made the night their home. She was still in her travel gear, as they had to be ready to move at any moment, in case beasts or undesirables came into the fray.
She made her way over to the other side of their small camp, crouching down by the jerking body to place a hand upon its shoulder.
“Your Grace, you must take your medicine. If only to keep the croup at bay so you may rest the night.”
As she spoke, his hand raised to stay her advance, a gesture which Jote found frustrating, as the coughs are what kept him from telling her it’ll be fine. It made her brow furrow just thinking of it.
“While I admire your persistence in staying strong in the face of your ailment, Your Grace, you mustn’t reject what will at least make your condition keep away its recurrence. If you’ll just let me administer the medicine, I can—”
As she went for her pouch, Joshua turned over in his bedroll and grabbed for her wrist. When he spoke, he couldn’t stop the coughs from interrupting his speech.
“Please, Jote, I…I’ll be fine. There is no…need to trouble yourself over a…a mite of coughing. It will pass.”
She looked back at him, with a sight she only knew too well. His face, though young and handsome, was scrunched up in pain as the scarlet blood spattered around his mouth. Yet he tried to keep strong, and look as such, though he was doing terribly at both.
Though she did not show it, Jote was vexed. Vexed at her master’s attempt to shrug off his rather serious ailment, one that has ravaged his body since he was but a babe. Despite years of on-and-off again fits of coughing and blood pouring from his lips, he kept trying to deny what he needed.
“This isn’t just pieces of carrot to fling from your plate, Your Grace. This is serious. I’ve done my best to do as you say, but I cannot…I will not stand by and see the Eikon of Flames brought low by some…sickness.”
Joshua turned his head up to meet her gaze, his blues meeting her browns. In them, he saw the torment of worry stirring, and while he wanted to push through this fit, he also hated to see her worry so.
Yet, he was the Eikon of Flames. The Phoenix. He had pride.
Or, in actuality, too thick a skull to allow anyone to help him.
“My determination in the face of this sickness is my strength, Jote,” he said, trying to hold back another fit as he offered that same soft smile he always did to quell her fears, “While I appreciate your worry for my condition, I ask that you stay your hand and let me fight this off myself.”
Despite a brow line straighter than an arrow, Jote sighed and went to stand, to let him stay as he pleased. However, as she lifted herself, she still felt Joshua’s hand grip tightly around her wrist, keeping her from standing.
Looking back down at Joshua, she saw his smile turn to something more inviting. Friendly, despite the blood that stained it.
“Would you…stay by my side? The presence of another, one to…to talk to, may help me fight this fit a…little better.”
With those eyes, and that smile, Jote found it hard to say no. Her own eyes still displayed a worry, and a desire not to see her master suffer. But she couldn’t refuse his request, so kind as it was, and she did enjoy being at his side.
She sat down by his bedroll, gently helping him onto his back so he could gaze up at the stars. And her, thought he'd admit it not, just like she wouldn’t admit her own.
Though then they just sat in silence, either stealing a glance at the other, or trying to find something interesting amongst the darkened bramble of the forest. Of which there was nothing to be found.
“What would—”
“Could you—”
They both started to speak, but as words crossed with others, they retreated back. Away they looked, abashed and waiting for the other to continue their cut off words. When neither one did, they looked back at each other.
“I’m sorry, Your Grace. What were you about to say?”
“Oh…nothing. I just…was to ask about you, Jote.”
Jote’s brow furrowed once more, her lips curving into a smile that broke into a mild chuckle.
“Me, Your Grace?”
In return, he had a chuckle of his own, but it grew into a few more hacks of blood, causing him to cover his mouth with his free fist.
“Indeed, Jote. Tell me about where you…you grew up. What was your home like? Tell me what…kept you calm.”
Jote simply shook her head. “There’s nothing you will find interesting.”
“I think I have to disagree. You have been my stalwart ally for some time now, and yet all I know about you is your duty to the Undying Flame. I would like to hear more, lest you want to hear more of my… endeavors with carrots and their ilk?”
While it was a tempting offer, as Joshua’s storytelling abilities were miles beyond any she’s heard, she did feel obligated to share something of hers. If only because they’d been working together for so long.
Jote maneuvered her body to lie down beside him, Joshua scooting a bit to offer her space on his bedroll, which she took gratefully. As much as she was used to it, she didn’t like lying down on the sharp rocks and hard ground.
“Well,” she began, turning to look up at the stars, “My home was a rather small village in Rosaria. Nestled amongst the trees, sitting beside a beautiful lake. Every morning I’d go to fetch water, as we were too poor to own a crystal to provide as such. Whenever I went out for water, I’d sit by the edge of the lake and…listen. It had this serene quality in the morning, joined with the dew fog and the birds with their morning chorus. Then I’d scoop the water and bring it back.
“That was a good life, not relying upon the power of the crystals.”
“And the lands?” Joshua asked, his cough seemingly fading away.
“Untouched by the blight, like the forest we rest in now. I hope to one day go back and see them just as green as they were so many years ago.”
Jote had kept her gaze on the stars for the entirety that she spoke, not once turning to look at Joshua. It wasn’t until the end that she moved onto her side to look at him, just to find a man who was intently focused on what she had to say.
“When all of this is over, I’ll take you back to your home myself, and we’ll see that all we have done isn’t for naught.”
The knight chuckled, glancing down at her hands. “That shouldn’t be something that troubles Your Grace.”
“I disagree,” Joshua said, leaning in a bit closer, “For when our journey is over, there will be no need for people like me. My blood will be irrelevant, the Phoenix behind it more so. After this is done, we will go. Together. That is my promise.”
Jote responded with silence, looking back at him. Every time he’d make a promise like this, his eyes would confirm it. Despite everything that could happen on this journey, he promises to make it through to the end. For the Undying Flame. For Clive. For her.
“Will you stay by my side through this night? In case another fit comes?”
Her brow raised.
“Is that an order from Your Grace?”
“No…it’s a request from your friend.”
Jote chuckled, her smile cutting through the previous gloom. Despite the trials and tribulations of the journey they took together, she always seemed to find the light in his presence. It was like the Phoenix was always there, casting its warmth upon her. A warmth that would bring her back to those old days at her village. A warmth that made her feel welcomed, and cared for.
And only he seemed to provide such warmth.
She once again looked down at her hands and moved herself ever slightly closer to her master, their fingers interlocking.
“Then…who am I to refuse?”