The Witch’s apparition faded from existence, and Diana began tending the bloody curse that had overtaken Jonah. Aiko supported his head as she washed out his nose and mouth, cleaning the last of the bile out. The hovering blob of water was darkly clouded and through a gesture she purified it, dropping the bodily waste onto the street. He stared unfocused up at her, sweat streaming off him and a terrible shiver all about him. His mechanical limbs had gone limp and there wasn’t any strength in him at all. From his nose came trickles of blood, probing her finger in his mouth, she found tiny cuts had broken out. She breathed a frost into his nose and the blood stopped. Out of a belt pouch she took powdered witch hazel, mixed it into water and had him drink it as she enhanced its natural properties to close wounds with an infusion of magic. Setting a rag across his head, she sent a chill into it, and he sighed in relief.

“I have no idea what this illness is,” she said to the tiger, who sent her calming thoughts. Quickly, she brought out hempen ropes, natural enough for her to control. The tiger laid down alongside him and let her truss him to its back.

The jostling woke Jonah up. “Diana, Diana, Diana…” he mumbled.

She took his hand, jogging alongside the tiger as it navigated towards Kalyah’s directions. “Don’t worry about speaking, please, we are almost there,” she said.

“I’m sorry… I’m dying…” he breathed.

“No, you are not,” she said firmly.

They arrived at the plain building, whose mirrored front reflected her panicked rush up the stairs. There was a name above the door, but she couldn’t be bothered to read it as she burst through the door, sending it smacking into the wall with a crack. The lobby was barren, a long and wide room of gray stone with nothing and no one in it until the opposite end some hundreds of yards away from the door. The two elves behind the desk shouted at her, then stopped to survey the new entries.

“Kalyah Gre’bren! Where is she!?” Diana shouted at the top of her lungs.

“Fifth floor, up the stairs… The elevator isn’t working, we--”

Diana sped past the long desk and looked straight up the narrow stairway, unsupported by any beam or wall until it came to the lip of each floor. Her legs couldn't move fast enough, and the strange architecture made it feel like a nightmare. At the third floor she was met by Kalyah, stomping down the stairs with her short legs. She let Diana pass with a horrified expression and raced after her, nearly stumbling.

The door to the room was already open and Diana was met with yet another strange sight. Whoever designed the space must have misunderstood mortals, aesthetics, and taste. It stretched hundreds of square feet, more than was needed, all a mulched newspaper gray stone with one floor to ceiling tinted window looking out. There was a massive bed in the middle of the room, fit for a Grand Elf and resting against nothing and with no place to set anything around it. The blasted thing was also askew. Aiko hopped on the thing and Diana undid the ropes with a gesture and slid Jonah gently onto the bed.

Kalyah climbed onto the bed, checking over Jonah, hands covered in her white magic, prayers intercut with, “Oh Goddess, no, please, no. Poor baby, poor baby…” She looked at Diana, who felt horribly helpless, trying to explain what had happened, but not wanting to cut the woman’s focus.

“Help me get the clothes off him and---”

Jonah coughed, blood pouring from his mouth and nose once again.

The two women removed his sweat drenched clothes and saw his brown skin was a frightening blushed hue. Kalyah took out her medical supplies, instruments and bottles scattered about the sheets. She handed Diana pads and gauze to stick into his nose and line his cheeks. Clumsily she put vial and needle together and with a deep breath she steadied herself enough to inject it into his bicep. The fluid, helped along by a swell of white, dampened the red, but not by much.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Kalyah spat, searching through the bottles.

“What is it? What did she do to him!?” Diana shouted.

“Cool him down, cover him in sheets and chill them,” Kalyah ordered.

She pointed at the shower and tub, which sat in the middle of the room. The tiger turned on the faucet and Diana conducted the water to cool him. The sheets were so coarse and she cheered herself up by thinking about how she would find new ones in the city for him, for the both of them. No matter what it was, she would fix it. This was her fault, and she would have the Witch’s head on spike for it. He had lost consciousness and she didn’t know what to do, what would work on this growing heat? He was sweltering and the fever reducer seemed to have no lasting effect on him.

She repeated her question to Kalyah, who was preparing another injection.

The Priestess fed this one into his nostril, holding him still. “The Clawing Death,” she said, returning to her vials.

“That’s what the curse sting was?” Diana seethed, removing the soaked pads from his cheeks.

“Yes, it’s been gone for hundreds of years. She flooded his system past my wards. I didn’t want to panic him. I never thought she would give him something this bad,” Kalyah said, speaking quickly as her hands shifted from task to task on him. She checked his nose and the blood was still dribbling out of them. “I can’t do this alone, oh Goddess, it’s too much.”

“There has to be a clinic here!” Diana stressed.

Kalyah was already running to the door. She picked up the phone so fast from the pillar it sat on, that it nearly crashed to the floor. “Get me a Trio of Corpine here! Tell them it's a human with the Clawing Death! Hurry!”

Five minutes later, there were a few more bloody wads of gauze sprinkled about the bed. A puddle of sweat spread out from Jonah’s head, blended with bile as well as blood. Several more injections marked his shoulder. There was a deathly scent in the air, part of it the women’s terror. They had been so busy that the shower was still running and the tiger was leering over the man, hopeful. Diana told herself that Aiko couldn’t have liked a man destined to die to a Hero’s curse. A Killer, she thought, and Fia had been proud of it.

The door burst open and a tall elven woman with golden hair lightly padded inside, whipping back the hood of her jingling cloak. From her side came two more of elven design, a man of bluish hue and a nectar gold skinned woman. Diana and Kalyah stepped aside and the two set down their bags and began their diagnostics. The elves gasped as they saw Jonah’s metal arms and then again at his metal feet as he laid naked on the bed.

The tall elf, seven feet or so and built rather maternal as usual for a temple bound Priestess, bowed her head to Diana. “Miss, we are out of human blood at the moment. We have received very few in the last century, might I…” she began in a rich voice laced with urgency.

Diana already had her vambrace off at the mention of blood, and had her sleeve up before the question was formed.

“Are you fully inoculated?” the tall elf asked, examining Diana’s arm with her long fingers.

“Of course she is! She was born in the last century!” Kalyah snapped.

“You can never be too careful, little Pixie,” the healer said, drawing out a needle from her bag. “I was in the temples when this illness first arose, many have forgotten it existed at all.”

“I am an open donor, like my family,” Diana said, clenching her fist to help the vein rise.

“Good, it saves me the great hassle of transmutation,” the healer smiled. “Come, he needs it now.” Leading her to sit with her, she slid the needle in painlessly without looking and linked it up with one her fellows had put in. The flowing red filled a glass bottle and landed in Jonah.

The other healers covered him with proper cooling pads, enhanced by prayers. They also covered up his dignity and wiped him clean of sweat. His head was already propped up and he started to open his eyes. They narrowed on the giant woman, but he didn’t say anything and his head wavered in place.

“Sweet child, rest your eyes, a healing sleep will help you,” the elf woman said, stretching out her hand.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

“One moment,” Diana requested, leaning to kiss his head. “You will be fine, you’re not dying, we’re all here for you.”

The charm put him to sleep and the elf smiled brightly at Diana. “He will be fine, do not worry. Your blood will help the most. The Clawing Death was one of Virran’s greatest tests for us. A half magical, half natural infection. Those that survived were the best remedies for those that still fought. Though you are lucky to have never faced this plague, your body believes you have, so he will recover,” she explained, speaking slowly as an old elf does. Even the blinking of her eyes occurred at a leisurely pace. She wasn’t a Grand, instead the milky shade of her skin and her height meant she was a High elf. A far shorter life span, but she could easily be a few thousand or more years old.

“How rude of me, your highness, I am Niae Pen’vin, Arch Priestess of the Corpine temple of Alp’a Linn,” the elf said, bowing her head once again. “My deepest condolences to you over the loss of your sister, she was a fine young woman, it was a great tragedy.” Her sea blue eyes shone with grief and her faint pink lips dipped in a frown.

“Thank you,” Diana said, nodding. She was already pushing out thoughts of the last bed she laid on like this.

“These are Petra and Jillien, two of my many beloved children. They are the best hands to care for this unfortunate boy,” Niae said, pointing to the blue Night elf and golden Wood elf. They both inclined their heads, focused on their duties of watching Jonah’s progress. “What is this boy's name and origin, miss, pray tell?”

“Jonah, he’s a Traveler, and my sweetheart,” Diana said firmly.

Niae’s round face lit up and she nodded slowly. “An interesting mix. I do not think I have seen more than two Travelers in all my life, some nine hundred years, in case you were wondering, child,” she put a gloved hand to her face and laughed.

“He is going to recover soon then? I can find who did this and destroy them?” Diana asked, her arm tensing around the tube in her vein.

Niae steadily reeled, golden brows reaching up her forehead. “Oh dear, I do not like to engage in such ghastly talk,” she said, disapprovingly. “He will recover, but not swiftly, I am afraid. There is a reason we struggled for two winters with this illness. It hides and burrows around the body, even our magic has a hard time finding it. Your blood is rushing to help, but it is restoring what has been lost as well as fighting the virus.” She referred to her children, which were now running their prayer infused hands along Jonah’s body. “The despicable virus causes internal bleeding, popping vessels all about his body, a deadly clawing. That is the magical part of this disease. Your cells fight half, we fight the other. That is how this virus took the bodies of legions.” She shook her head, blinking away a tear. “Too many lost, too many.”

“What can I do?” Kalyah said, walking up to them, gloves sparking in sanitation.

The Arch Priestess gathered herself, scanning over the Pixie elf, who was at eye level with her. “The feeding tube, we can only contribute so much, he needs more fuel,” she said evenly. She pointed to the bag by the Wood elf.

Both of the Niae's children watched Kalyah warily as she fed the tube down Jonah’s throat, hanging it off the stand behind the headboard. The Pixie was so much smaller than them both. She ignored the stares as she kissed Jonah’s head, praying over him. Getting out of their way, she sat at the foot of the bed, asking if anymore could be done.

“Whenever one of my dears tire, you can take their place. I hope you have kept up your training, Kalyah,” Niae said flatly.

The Priestess stiffened at the use of her name without ever sharing it. She swallowed and kept silent. Niae’s blue stare stayed fixed on her.

“Nothing to say, Kalyah?” she asked.

“Nothing that I want to discuss,” she said, hands in her lap.

Niae hummed a long sigh, not too dissimilar to the whale song they had heard only a day ago. “Know this then, Primvene misses you very much. I have not talked to her once in the past decade without her bringing up ‘her sweet Pixie,'” she said with a mournful frown. “She thought you had died. She spotted your small body and vestments in the pictures of those horrible riots in Tsarina. Then you returned to a temple only to take supplies and leave nothing in return. I am glad to see you well, and were I to talk to her, then I am sure she would be on the first airship out here.”

“Don’t please, I’ll go back, some day. Don’t worry her, when I do return, I will settle my own business,” Kalyah insisted. “I’ll return, just not yet.” She frowned deeply.

“I will keep praying that the Goddess goes with you until you two are reunited,” Niae said.

“Thanks,” she said. “Thank you for everything. I couldn’t have done this on my own.”

“No, you could not. No one could. It is why the Goddess deemed that we never go alone, anywhere,” Niae said, reaching her hand out, offering it to Kalyah.

The Pixie took it, hers disappearing within the giant's hold.

“Rest, Kalyah, dear, you will be needed. You need food and rest as well, miss Diana. I must cease the transfusion soon and my dears cannot seal every vessel before it bleeds, he will need more blood eventually,” she said, checking over him with a sweeping hand. “There is some in his stomach and intestines, we will need to flush it.”

“How long before he’s well?” Diana pleaded.

Niae rose, reaching into some bags. “If we are lucky, a week, if not, two. He will not die while I draw breath, and I still have more faithful to summon. Do not fret, I have dealt with thousands of cases. The Clawing Death will not take him, but it will be a long battle.”

“Oh gods, that’s so long,” she breathed. “Is there nothing more we can do? I can have an airship here in no time.”

“He will not travel well and a Gate or Door would be too much stress,” she said, pulling out instruments. “I am the best you could hope to have, sweet child, I will have him well. Whatever cruel soul put this affliction on him did not account upon an elf such as I living here.”

“The metal anchors are loose,” said the Night elf Petra. “What do I do, mother?”

“Move, I know them,” Kalyah said, taking hold of Jonah’s arm. “I can do that at least.”

Petra hesitated to listen until Niae signaled.

“You have not laxed, that is good, Kalyah.”

The next two days passed in a haze, confined within the room, the others working around the clock. Diana slept on the other side of the bed from Jonah, it was some ten feet wide. When she could sleep that is, given the lighting and the new nightmares added to the old. She couldn’t up the valerian root like she had before, as her blood went into him and he couldn’t handle it.

They learned that a majority of the hotel was used for storage, non-perishable goods and the like. The rooms close to them were filled with furniture and they worked on getting emptied and cleaned, on royal order, for Kalyah when Jonah eventually got better. The Arch Priestess informed them that when the virus was gone, he would need some time to recover from the weakness. All that struggle in getting strong with his new limbs, only to be made weak once again. It wouldn’t be the same though, as they were all free of the Hero’s grip.

Since she wasn’t needed as much, Jonah was still unconscious, Diana spent her time training her magic. Which she could do and still give blood, her only use, she grieved, as there was no use applying Druid magic to this precise illness. Putting her mind to it, she trained the Cloud school. Instead of breaching the mind, she stayed on the conjuration of shapes. The practice with the Pirate had helped train up her leylines, and it came easier than it had before. That is, she managed to actually make something instead of a puff of clouds. She had managed more half a year before, but now had to relearn the basics.

On the third day they got a radio in their room. Which took forever to configure, even though there was a local radio tower to boost the signal into the city. The device ended up next to the window and here is where they heard Diana delivering the weekly speech. Except it was one she never performed before. Knowing that the Witch had used her Mimic to imitate her, had shocked her in utter disgust.

What was worse is that the Witch made it compliment her. “I know that we will never find Blodwyn without the help of the Witch Fia and her scrying,” the imposter said.

Diana’s hand was covered in fire and she approached it, determined. “No, I'm going to melt it, I don’t want to hear another word!” she roared at Kalyah, who was doing her best to stop her.

“That concludes my message for this week, the Heroes, Gregore the Guardian, Angelina the Pirate, Ozwalt the Rider, and Fia the Witch, all wish you well and remind you to stay vigilant…” the imposter stated.

The fire in Diana’s hand blasted up and out, a scorch mark added to the ceiling from the furious act. The tiger growled at the radio as it moved on to regular programming. Stepping away from the rigid Diana, Kalyah turned the thing off. Then the healer froze, the last few days had been grueling for her, then she handed it to Diana.

“Go nuts,” she said, walking off to the couch that had been her bed. The other Corpine faithful were watching Jonah and she would be up in a few hours. The High Priestess slept along the wall in an extra large cot, earplugs in so they didn’t have to worry about noise.

Diana went to the edge of the stairs, closing the door to the room tightly. “All that I did, all that I tried to accomplish, is all for naught,” she hissed as the tiger growled at the object, ears back, teeth showing bright. “All that Jonah and I fought to change, that Kalyah tried to change. All the lies, all the dishonesty! None of it matters!” She lifted the radio above her head and flung it at the wall. It bounced off and cracked in half, the parts held together by long wires.

The front desk elves called up to her.

“Don’t worry, the walls are all stone!” she shouted down. “We’re stuck here because I tried to do the right thing and all I got were lies! Fuck the Heroes!”

The two elves walked back to the front desk.

Kalyah was out of the room, and held her shoulder. “It’s time to talk to your mom, you can’t stay here the whole time,” she said calmly, though her hold was tight. “Even if you can’t pick up the phone, or whatever. You need to get some air. Try though, try to talk to your mom.”

“I can’t leave him, it’s my fault he’s in that bed,” Diana said, gesturing to the cracked door and the man trapped within.

“You’re not leaving him, it’s just a breather, honey,” Kalyah urged, embracing her. “He’ll be fine for an hour or two. All you have to worry about is running into a Grand and them talking their head off at you. Five hundred of them over miles of city isn’t very likely.”

Diana took a few moments to consider, then she gave a long exhale. “Fine, I will go,” she said. "I'll be right back though."