“SORCERER.”

“Um, what?” the plagued man asked.

“You will find no priestess here. I am a sorcerer.” Cira answered, “And there is no need to get upset. I intend to treat everybody for their symptoms today but I have yet to uncover the cause.”

The man was oddly hung up on the priestess thing but Cira hastily healed and high cured him just for kicks. Holy magic didn’t do much more than heal here, and sacred cure was completely ineffective, so she stuck to just the basic two and repeated the process down the line.

Healing them individually like this was more consuming but more efficient, area heal was a high-cost luxury unless she could move the patients around. The majority were too weak for her to want to bother them that way.

Chasing a mysterious illness could get tricky. If it were something simple, they would have figured it out by this point. A truly powerful sorcerer, Cira thought, should be able to wave their hand make the plague go away.

Reality was never that simple though. Something was causing this plague and even if she could whisk it away with the back of her hand, it was possible they would just catch it again. There hadn’t been any wildlife on the rock save for a few odd birds so Cira couldn’t pin the blame on rats, though the birds deserved investigating.

That said, it was hard to speculate when she’d only seen the overseer’s office and the infirmary so far. Most of this island was underground and she hoped some time in the mines would alleviate some of the questions in her mind.

Salt nymph’s for instance. Who’s to say they aren’t the carrier? That would be too easy though, wouldn’t it? If they’ve been going mad it could still hold merit. Either that or they’ve got the plague themselves.

It took about an hour to finish going around the room healing everyone, and Cira still hadn’t seen the doctor again. Assuming they were all hard at work, she moved onto the second floor using an elevator that was of suspiciously similar make to the overseer’s. This ones crafted far better though. The gears are much more secure than the last one. Stupid design but it won’t fail anytime soon. He really was just whipping these up for practice.

Gazen had a bad habit of referring to every job he took as sorcery practice. Cira was just glad he put a little extra care into the elevator here. Stepping into the second floor tore her from her thoughts as another waft of death punched her in the face. The entire floor had been repurposed into the third ward. The most critical patients were all here, granted it looked like they had run out of room at some point.

Now I get why nobody was downstairs. There were more doctors up here, all tending to patients. One man was being resuscitated and another was held down having a violent seizure. A woman coughed up blood nearby that splattered onto Cira’s robes.

As she walked around started inspecting the patients in order of closest to death, another doctor ran up to her in a hurry, “You there, priestess! Are you responsible for what’s happening outside?” She was a few years older than Cira and had light hair and dry, cracked skin.

Cira looked out the window and was quite satisfied to see a sizable group of big men moving bodies for her. Correcting everyone was starting to get annoying so she ignored the first bit, “Indeed. We can’t store them here. They shall be buried once they’re all outside. Now, are you this head doctor I’ve been hearing about?”

“I certainly am, so why was I not made aware of any of this?” The woman was upset.

“I’m doing a job for the overseer. I didn’t think to come find you because there were problems that needed to be addressed. I’ve yet to finish my investigation of the plague but you should know I’ve healed everyone downstairs for their immediate symptoms. What can you tell me about the plague? It doesn’t look like any disease I’ve seen and most of the patients have very little wrong with them aside from the symptoms.”

“Wha- You… Everyone…?” She blinked a few times, baffled, before collecting her thoughts and snapping back into work mode, “Right. I’m Doctor Lin, but just call me Lin. We still don’t know the method of transmission, or if it’s even contagious. The residents here all seem to get sick at random, no matter where they live, eat, or get water.”

Fount Salt had two large water reservoirs on the surface, all fed from a pump at the bottom of the rock, where the spring lay. It was an incredible distance to consider but the artifacts responsible were supposedly built centuries ago and with great foresight for the sinking spring.

“I’ll have to go look at them before I leave… On that note, have you considered if the plague is coming from the water, or the food for that matter?” Cira asked.

“Of course. Many people that drink from one reservoir are still healthy, while many of the sick get water from the same place. Same goes with the food. There’s no consistency between the sick and healthy in which of the four farms their food comes from. All the crops have weakened the same over the last few years, yet many eat it and remain healthy as ever.”

Even the crops which reservoirs were fed from different locations were dying off at a consistent rate between them. Among all residents that receive food from each farm or water from each reservoir, it’s an even spread whether they catch the plague or not.

Everything kept pointing to these issues sharing an origin, but whenever they looked into it, the data told the opposite story. It was random to an infuriating degree. If Cira didn’t know any better, she’d say it was a curse.

“Hmm…” Cira rested a hand on her chin, “That is quite vexing. And you say you can’t even tell if it’s contagious?”

“That’s right. Like I said, people just catch it at random, but only the residents here. No travelers or representatives from up the noose have caught it even once. The people are saying it’s the curse of Fount Salt, and honestly… I’m a couple patients away from believing them at this point.”

“Do you know how curses work?” Cira asked.

“Er- no, I suppose not.” Lin replied.

“Well, this is not a curse. That much is certain.”

Many of the ill have lived for months with their loved ones who never caught it. It would be pretty obvious at this point if it were transmitted by coughing, but again they couldn’t find any commonalities between those that caught it. They thought certain people had an immunity until they realized the plague exclusively infected residents of the island. Unless it were a curse that would just be way too uncanny to dismiss.

“Do you think you can cure it, miss priestess?”

“I’m a sorcerer, and I can’t promise anything until I learn more. I need my tools, for one, but I’ll be investigating the plague for at least the next few days.”

Cira went around the room again healing everyone. This time it took a lot more mana as most needed high heal to get rid of their wounds, which were much more severe on this floor. She watched multiple people die before her very eyes, and some she attempted to treat were already dead. This was heartbreaking work. Not the type Cira enjoyed, but it was necessary all the same.

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A lot of them looked like burn victims, some were bleeding from the eyes and ears, and yet more had skin so dry it had cracked like fissures in the earth, slowly leaking blood and pus. Cira finished after healing Lin, who regarded her with amazement and thanked her up and down.

“They’re not cured, of course, but this buys us time. Their biggest problem right now is dehydration. I need you to get everyone to drink significantly more water for the foreseeable future.” Cira gave orders to the head doctor, who happily received them. Luckily, they had water on tap so this could be easily addressed now that their critical patients were reduced significantly. Some though were still in very poor condition after being restored. Just like the girl downstairs, they could only be healed to a certain point, these patients were just far worse off.

The man who was being resuscitated when Cira entered ended up pulling through, but he had the worst cough she’d seen yet. Every few breaths he would spit up blood and his eyes were stark white from the plague’s haze. He didn’t seem capable of hearing her and Cira got the impression his mind had deteriorated rather than him having lost his hearing. She made the attempt to explain everything, but he would still scream with each healing spell and curl up until he calmed down.

Towards the end she met a young boy who had symptoms unlike any other she’d examined. The bones in his arm looked as if they were threatening to poke out of his skin. With spatial sight Cira could tell the bones weren’t just lodged out of place—they were twisting and contorting all on their own.

The young sorcerer had seen a few strange illnesses in her days under Gazen’s study, even some which caused your muscles and joints to compulsively twist in weird ways or beyond their own limits, causing substantial harm. This was entirely different, however.

His bones were changing shape. Literally twisting their form and stretching out, they poked against the inside of his skin. Cira also saw it had moved his muscles out of the way, which shifted them into misshapen lumps all up his arm.

No healing spell nor advanced holy magic in Cira’s repertoire had any effect on this condition. Curiously, the boy was devoid of respiratory problems and told her though tears that his arm looked normal a month ago. This boy’s sores had healed, but Cira regretted being unable to do anything further for him. Regrettably, she moved on and finished examining the third ward.

Cira then explained to Lin what she had cast on everyone and detailed her findings, which didn’t amount to much as of yet. The doctor was happy to have some support with the plague and grateful for all the healing she performed.

“Thank you so much! Oh, how can I ever repay you?”

“Don’t thank me yet, just get these people to drink. I’ll be sending in more help soon.”

Walking downstairs again and back through the second ward, Cira saw they were almost done. She decided to give them a hand with the last pile and telekinesis them out—she’d just finished all the heavy lifting upstairs, so she had mana to spare now. Then Cira sent some spare guards to fetch the dead from upstairs. Once they finished, she went to speak to the doctor she’d roped into assisting her earlier.

“Your rev-“ The first doctor from before started, then wilted under Cira’s glare, “Your sorcerousness… have you finished your examinations?”

“For now. I hope to find out more later today, but first we will bury them all now. Everyone stand back.”

Cira counted thirteen soldiers and the doctor, they all took enough distance to save themselves from an explosion. Just what do you all think of me?

Holding the scepter up, Cira manipulated the salt to form a large ditch, pushing the rest out of the way into mounds. After about ten minutes she had dug a long grave about ten feet across and fifty wide. For this next part, she would have felt terrible making the guards unceremoniously toss them in, so she wasted a bit of mana and picked everyone up with magic, setting them down in the ditch gently one by one.

The men standing by all said a prayer for the dead, and Cira scooped the salt back in, covering the bodies. It was a somber if not cruelly swift affair, but hopefully it would help keep the plague under control. Cira followed this up by reentering the second ward and throwing holy magic around to purify it before instructing the doctor to keep everyone out of there until further notice.

“Guards.” Cira addressed the men.

“Yes, madam sorceress?” Close enough…

“Your new task is to head inside and help the good doctor here keep everyone hydrated. Good doctor, Lin will fill you in.” The sun was already rising—Cira had lost track of time after hours of tossing heals around. She yawned and shook the sleep away, then turned to walk away but the doctor stopped her.

“Ah, but where are you going?”

“I need my tools,” Cira needed to perform alchemy to do any more here, though it would be throwing medicine at a wall to see if it stuck instead of magic this time. “I’ve done all I can for now, but I’ll be back.”

Cira’s original plan was to have the men help her carry everything across town, but she came up with a much smarter idea that would be more convenient in every way.

___

Overlord Pappy sat in his office, reviewing reports from the mines. This had to be done throughout each day between the multitude of dig sites all throughout the rock to ensure they hit their monthly quotas.

Poor Pappy could feel his wrinkles increasing with each day of this slog, but today his attention was ripped away at the sounds of panicked screams from below. He spent another year of his youth jumping out of his seat and leaning out the window.

His citizens were racing through the streets, crying in fear and running away from… something. A shadow fell, and he saw some of them glance over their shoulders before increasing their speed. Total pandemonium had befallen the city, and Pappy followed their terrified gazes until his eyes landed on the source.

“What the hell is that crazy witch doing?!” His grip tightened on the windowsill as he watched an island descend on his city like the world’s largest debris stone, “She’s got even less sense than her old man!”

Grumbling to his stationed guard, he hustled out the door, intent on giving the foolish young sorcerer a stern talking to.

Meanwhile, in the lower residential district where the poorest folk live closest to the salt, a man and wife sat at the table eating breakfast. Their home was just a single room, but that much didn’t bother them. So long as the kid was healthy and happy with food in their belly, that was enough for them. Today, however, the man and wife ate breakfast quietly. The mood was sullen and neither of them knew what to say.

“Do… you think she’ll be alright?” A tear rolled down the woman’s blemished face. Years of living in such a poor environment had taken their toll. As of yet she had yet to catch the plague herself, but she would trade places in an instant if afforded the chance.

“I don’t know, honey… All we can do is hope and pray.” The man had nearly died and upon his miraculous return, his entire world had turned on its head.

He took his wife’s hand in his, as no more words came. They sat together in somber silence, slowly picking at their food for a while until suddenly it became dark outside. The sun which rose hardly an hour ago had disappeared in an instant. Alarmed, the woman’s face grew pale and she rushed to the window.

“Chip, what’s happening?! I- I’m scared!” Her voice was frantic.

Chip, mirroring her fear, ran to the window and looked up. “That- that woman is insane! She can’t just do that!”

“What do you mean? Who?” She looked up and her eyes turned into saucers, “What is that?!”

“Relax, hun, the sky ain’t fallin’. It’s just that girl who saved me. Guess she convinced the overseer to let her land inside, but… where is there even room for that?” Chip was perplexed.

“Look! Look where she’s going!”

“Huh?” The islandette was now desending, nearing its destination, “She’s going to the infirmary?”

“Chip!” His wife’s devastation had taken a backseat behind the glimmer in her eyes. She grabbed both of Chip’s hands in hers, “You said she wields magic. D-do you think she’ll save our daughter?!”

“I… I don’t know.” He answered honestly. “But, I guarantee that geezer tried to throw her at it. She… She may be trying. If we go, maybe they’ll let us see our daughter.”

___

After a hot bath and leisurely breakfast in the garden, Cira descended her stone steps feeling refreshed as possible with no sleep, but her feet slowed as she approached the gate and saw the welcome party that had accumulated.

The people of the city had crowded the boardwalks, watching the spectacle and there was an angry mob formed up of too many guards to count, all with their guns drawn. Cira saw the young doctor from earlier with a scared and uncertain expression on his face. Cira, you see, had changed into garb better suited for botany, or gardening specifically. Her light green dress had simple white accents and her matching hat ended in a point, comfortably folded over the way she liked it.

As she’d stabilized most of the ill in the infirmary, Cira was switching gears to the next issue on the list, in order to give her helpers time to gather the sick from around the city as she assumed a great many were still in their homes. She would dress up like a priestess only when the time came, but now it was time to visit the farms.

As Cira tried to find the right words to diffuse the situation she’d inadvertently manifested, she noticed a very exhausted and very upset old man running towards her.