A fever. That's what they had decided to blame it on whenever someone asked. It were not by his words that people outside the infirmary had started to believe this lie, but because of others. Each time someone would visit to seek the physician, someone would say that he's been struck down by fever.
It was an odd lie, but Elias didn't correct it. Perhaps it was better that the truth was obscured, to avoid odd stories and rumours, keep the people ignorant to the fact that the true nature of his illness was unknown, with only theories shared between those few he trusted.
Death, a word he was familiar with, near intimate - he had watched many times the last breath of those that nothing more could be done for. He never thought much on it then, it was just part of life, to see people come and go, but the man always had this dreadful foe lingered in the back of his mind and now it slowly knocked on his door.
It was not only death that brought fear into the doctor, but the unknown. No solid reasoning had been agreed upon as to what caused the man's body to finally break and begin to wither.
Maddoct had mentioned fumes, but the doctor didn't recall seeing or smelling any and never was he without the mask. He often found himself wondering if he ever fixed the hole in the mask, one meant to be patched so long ago. Could the work, as they claimed, have caused all these problems? Had the doctor inadvertently been killing himself for so long? The man dreaded the thought.
This is what he kept being told, why they had forbidden him to work, why everything was now destroyed with only his books and notes remaining. He'd have to start all over again.
Elias could hear the low breath of the Ranger that had taken to watch over him, to make sure someone kept an eye on the doctor and be aware should he stop breathing in the night. The man barely had a moment to himself any longer as everyone fussed around him. Even now he could hear the pitter patter of Kithri outside his study door, as she took care of his Soothery as well as the doctor, scolding him and demanding his rest, much like a worried mother.
It was a strange feeling to have so many care for his well being. Just about seven months ago, no one here even knew his name. Even back in his own home city, his name was only known through his father and odd rumours that murmured between the tiers as Elias' mother had begun to lose her mind. Always the odd one and under watchful eyes, it didn't take much imagination for people to craft a strange and foul tale of what had happened to the family when all but one had succumb to injury, illness and finally, madness.
Elias sat up, dragging himself out of bed quietly, as to not wake the ranger that sat guard, well aware of the lack of sleep the man had suffered from.
Knowing well that the hobbit was out there, he had no desire to leave the study. Instead, he found his log book and opened it up to write. Patients still visited - just earlier that evening, he had to tend to a wound caused by an arrow. The doctor was relieved that he knew the procedure by memory, and so the matter was dealt with quickly, despite the noise around him, the endless noise that caused his head to throb more painfully and his eyes to lose focus.
Elias had attempted to sit down for stew before everyone poured in and it was only now that he realized he'd had no chance to eat. Each day since the incident, food had become much harder to consume and his body grew weaker, more fragile than before.
He stared down at the open page, attempting to write up a simple log to remind him of the patients that had visited, but instead of words that could be read there was naught but odd squiggles of lines. He tried again with the same result. Had the doctor lost the ability to write?
The thought formed a painful knot in his stomach, the quill was set aside and the book closed. Elias' hands shook, the man finding himself close to fainting, having to hurry back to the bed to sit down on its edge, trying to process what he had just witnessed while staring down at his trembling hands.
He had thought he was getting better and so had they. Why was this happening? The doctor had no answer. Elias shut his eyes tightly, lowering his head as the knot tightened and a strange lump formed in his throat. Heat rushed to his face and came to rest in his eyes, death slowly creeping to the front of his mind. Maybe there was no hope after all. In the end, he might have dug his own early grave.
He heard the ranger stirring, quickly bringing his hand up to wipe the wet streaks from his cheeks, the company didn't need to see such, not when he was already so weakened.
Elias attempted to swallow the lump, but it stubbornly lingered, his eyes then turning to the stack of papers on his desk, the notes that Maddoct had brought for him to read. Carefully, he reached out for them, his body slowly falling onto its side as he gave up trying to hold himself up. To be this long on his feet after the day had left him exhausted, but he had to keep up his appearance. The doctor had to continue to aid those who came to him.
Laying his head against the pillow, the tired, green eyes darted over the written text until he found the title: The Queen Who Turned Blue
The man was uncertain what to make of the title, but he found himself thankful that at least his ability to read hadn't failed him yet. Elias pulled his legs in close, draping the covers over him and sinking into the bed as he read through the tale that had been given to him by his old friend.
"Are you alright?" Aeruthuil questioned after having stirred awake and risen to his feet, worried eyes peering over the covered physique of the doctor.
"No." Elias answered honestly. "I think I'm getting worse."
