Chapter 25: Problems on Top of Problems

Night was falling, and soon it was nearly pitch black under the canopy. Dregan and Zentarou had been working hard on the fire with no success.

"Still okay?" Dregan asked of Zentarou's eyesight, a concern he'd had since it began getting dark.

"Yeah, but it's getting pretty blurry. My low-light vision is no match for elven night vision." Dregan chuckled.

"Than I'll take a turn at the sticks. You keep watch while you're still able." Zentarou nodded and perched himself onto he lip of their ledge, panting a bit due to the heat but not trusting the environment enough to remove his robes.

Dregan listened to him pant as he scraped wood against wood, mentally contrasting it to the quite opposite sound behind. Despite the heat, Vivi was shivering. The elf frowned, the noise disturbing him on a deeper level.

He was flashed back to the side of his infant son's crib, listening to him shiver and sniffle, hearing the words of the most powerful cleric he knew in his head, over and over;

"His system's not as strong... might not survive...wait and see if he bounces back..." He felt helpless then, terrified and helpless.

Dregan shook his head and resumed his efforts with renewed vigor. Through the tireless efforts of his family, Savander had survived. And he'd be damned before he let anything happen to Vivi, let whatever had brought on this chill gain a foothold. He knew his reaction was irrational, but he couldn't help it. When he looked back at Vivi, he saw Savander, remembered the helplessness, and vowed 'Not again.' His movements, scraping the two logs together over and over, were so furious that he created little cuts and nicks in his hands, and splinters embedded themselves in the undersides of his fingers where he gripped the edges so tightly, but he didn't notice nor care. And his thoughts were so consuming he failed to really pay attention to his work.

"Dregan!" came Zentarou's sudden gasp as he lunged over, grabbing at some grassed and twigs. "You did it! Keep going!"

"Huh?" Dregan looked, and saw a simple glowing ember. He eagerly kept scraping as the cat bent and carefully blew on it, holding a bundle of grasses to the spark. "C'mon, c'mon," the elf encouraged. "Catch!"

Abruptly the spark ignited the grasses. Swiftly the pair laid the burning blades into the wood, giving it plenty of air and kindling, and much to their relief a flame soon licked the branches, blooming into a full fire.

"Yay!" Orko cheered, as the fire illuminated first the branches, then the pair by it, and finally the entire ledge. Quickly they brought Vivi as close to the fire as they could. His eyes were closed, and his shivers shook his whole body.

"What's wrong with him?" wondered Zentarou, as Dregan pulled the little mage's arm out of its sleeve and removed the bandage.

"It's infected," was the grim announcement.

"So fast?" Orko was amazed.

"The beast might have had some sort of substance on its claws, either by contact in the wild or by natural venom. Either way, it's not good for Vivi. He needs medical attention."

"But we don't have any medicines." The Trollan's tone was distressed. Dregan sighed.

"I know. Lets try to keep the wound clean, and keep him warm."

"I'll go ahead and reverie," offered Zentarou, moving to lean against the large rock. Soon he had slipped into the trance-like rest.

"I'll stay up,' Dregan told Orko. "You can rest."

"Okay.' Soon the Trollan was asleep. Dregan used some of his canteen's water to clean the cut, then wiggled out of his robe to wrap Vivi up in it. It somewhat eased his shivers.

"Just a little longer, Vivi." He tried to make his whispers encouraging. "Just a few more hours, and we'll warp out of here, and find someone able to help. I promise."

Even after Zentarou was awake, Dregan kept his constant vigil.