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(no subject)

Who: Relevant persons
Where: A second-floor apartment in Central Corehaven, Cepheus
When: King's Year 197, late spring
What: ~~Spam~~ Fushigi mysteries

* for what may be the first time in almost two years, the Core's Head Engineer hasn't reported in for duty in the last two days. *

* what do. *

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

* eyelids close, and open, and it takes a moment. *

...hoped... you could tell me that.

[applying SOME MORE SEDATIVE]

You have a very rare illness. What has happened to you? Your home is the Core. You should not have this.

...

Where... from...?

[speaks low, even, and fast]

The last case for it was far north, in Lepus. It effected Berserkers, but it was realized that it could affect anyone. It induces a transformation in the body and freezes you there, permanently. The body changes into a constantly regenerative state to accommodate, until the victim is unrecognizable and entirely mad.

...north...?

* for a moment, his gaze shifts from Allen's face to the worktable behind him. *

...the sample...

. . .[follows his gaze]

What sample?

* the worktop is bare, but he's eying the lowest left drawer. *

...'sygnite'. Prospectors... found last month. Up north.

Ran tests... when it came.

. . .Something must have triggered it. . . It isn't caused by a mere stone. Has anyone else touched it?

Ceres...

* --eyes widen, and he tenses-- fingers digging into the floor as he tries to push himself up *

Ceres-- she handled--

* --and his arms buckle, sending him to the floor again. *

[Allen tenses and his hands hover when Chrysos collapses again]

How long ago did she handle it? Hours ago?

* gritting his teeth together, breath hissing through the gaps. *

...no.

Not sure... days.

. . .She is fine. She does not have it. Whatever the trigger is must not have lasted.

[fists his hands]

Chrys, listen to me. There-- there is one way to cure this. Are you listening?

...

* nods. *

The only way to stop the process is to entirely -- entirely still your body. Should your soul grip your body, the regenerative properties in your body will exhaust themselves on reviving your life.

* looks at Allen for a long, long moment... before comprehension dawns. *

You're saying...

...only way out. Is death.

I don't-- I don't know another way. You're too short on time.

You call that a cure?

* curls up further, body tensing up again. *

Thought cures... meant living after.

What have you contracted such a sickness for! How am I to treat you when this requires you to faith, and I to--

If I-- continue to give you sedatives constantly, your body may relax its strain and the pain will-- lessen, but the longest anyone has lasted like that is five years, and by the end there is no choice but madness. In that time you will not be capable of the life you have lived, ever again.

* ...for a while, there's no response other than the sound of breathing. *

Red...

Those are your choices.

...

* lifts his head... and there's a small, sad, smile at the corners of his mouth. *

Yours... to make. As well.

What sort of words to say are those? I am a healer. The only choice is to tend the sick.

...and if that... involves ending them?

. . .

If you go mad, then I will end your sickness with you.

Should you choose to risk death-- there is a chance you won't awake again. You must have the will to stay.