Chp.10: Sick
After what had happened that night a week ago, Alan had returned to his house and hadn't been able to sleep for a whole day. He felt angry as he had rarely been in his life.
His fury was directed primarily at those two Council members who had stopped his dinner and that of his friends. He hated that they had forced him to give up his prey, a prey that he had also had a lot of trouble shooting down. In fact, he had discovered that the kori had a very thick skin and although they seemed slow and awkward, for a few short distances they were able to charge ferociously. When Alan and his friends made their first attempt to catch one, the animal nearly ran over them and crushed them with its huge body. What's more, they had also discovered that the kori could stand up for a few seconds on their hind legs and use their powerful claws to slash at their opponents. Only after several attempts had they finally managed to shoot one down, and only because it was particularly weak, and it was a miracle no one had been hurt. Once they had captured their prey, they had then been very careful to light the fire in a secluded place and at a time when they were sure that no one would have noticed them, and they had started cooking the meat. This way they would have plenty of supplies for the next few days... but instead that lizardman and that minotaur had appeared and caught them red-handed and forced them to hand over the kori.
In short, a lot of work for nothing. However, Alan was not angry with them for forcing him to give up the kori, since it was technically their duty: even if a law was unjust, it was the duty of those who administered the law to enforce it. Being in a civilized society also meant this. Alan was angry that Gord and Brenno didn't understand. They kept saying that everything would be fine, that there was no danger for the future…all bullshit. Alan could clearly see it, and so could all his friends: their fates hung in the balance. The day the dragons stopped helping them they would all starve. Alan was obviously not willing to rely on their goodwill: everyone knew how evil and deceitful dragons could be. They had helped them, sure, but it was likely that they had done it for an ulterior motive. Alan, like most of the people of Iluvatan, avoided asking too many questions about it and simply ignored the dragons when they came to the village; the less contact he had with these huge creatures, the better. If the people of Iluvatan had been self-sufficient, Alan would also have been OK with living with dragons: after all, he didn't hate them, he just wanted to avoid having them around, so he could dwell in the village while the dragons stayed in the their lair, and everyone would be happy. But since Iluvatan still depended heavily on dragons for support… well, Alan couldn't rest easy. How to entrust one's survival to creatures that were known to be opportunistic, deceitful and insensitive towards any other life form? Alan couldn't do it, and many other people with him. Therefore he had to prepare for the moment when the dragons would no longer help them. The Council would do nothing, that was practically certain by now... so the people had to fend for themselves. Creating secret stocks was a choice dictated by necessity and taken with extreme logic. If Brenno and Gord had admitted that he was right, then Alan wouldn't have been angry with them even if they had taken his kori... but since they hadn't, and indeed had tried to invite him to stupid optimism, Alan didn't he could help but be furious at them.
However, he was not only angry with them, but also with himself. In the first place because he had behaved like a coward: he had raised his voice until the two had reacted, but as soon as Brenno had reprimanded him properly, he had remained silent and kept his head down. He had behaved like a dog that barked a lot, but it was enough to stare straight in the eyes to make it retreat with its tail between its legs. This was a disgrace to a lionman. But what really infuriated him most was that what Brenno had said was absolutely true: Alan had behaved like an ingrate. He hadn't limited himself to asserting his point of view: he had heavily insulted the lizardman and the minotaur, and as the latter had pointed out to him this was really disrespectful behavior. Alan owed a great deal to Brenno, he owed him his freedom and that of all his people, and probably his life too. It was true, perhaps the minotaur was a drunkard, but that was no reason to consider him a person unworthy of respect and trust. Alan couldn't blame Brenno for the promise he had made to him: he too, if subjected to similar insults, would have gone to the offender's house to beat him to death.
Those thoughts had kept him awake all night and had even given him a cold: in fact the next morning he sneezed continuously. Given his condition, he had avoided leaving the house and remained in bed. During the night he had caught a fever, but by the next morning it had already passed and he felt just a little weak. Probably, he reflected, it was just an allergy or a bodily disorder due to tiredness and anxiety; he had therefore decided to rest until he was totally healed. So he spent the next two days at home playing throw a ball made of straw against a wall and catch it again before it hit the ground. Although they were very boring days, they seemed to have an effect: the fever never returned and his body seemed to regain its strength, although from time to time he still felt a little pain in his chest and had some nosebleeds. He had concluded that it was probably the effects of his recovery and that they would disappear in a few more days just like the fever had.
During that forced stay at home he had the opportunity to reflect. Once most of her anger had settled down, she'd begun to reconsider her position. Now he kept thinking about the way he had treated Brenno and how the minotaur absolutely didn't deserve it. Perhaps, he reflected, it was right that she should go and apologize to him. Not because he had changed his mind about the fate of the community or what needed to be done, of course, but because it was unfair that someone to whom he owed so much should receive such insults from him. Alan had therefore decided that once he was fully recovered, he would go and apologize to him. And to Gord, too, he deserved it too. Who knows, maybe once they reconciled they could face a discussion more calmly, and all three could assert their points of view without the need for insults and threats of beatings.
Yes, that was a good idea. He would have done exactly that. He'd wait a couple more days for the pains in his body to subside completely, and then he'd leave the house and ask Brenno and Gord to talk privately. They were two reasonable people, surely they would have accepted an apology if it had been sincere. Alan was sure everything would be fine.
However, the next day he woke up with a cold again. He had spent the morning gnashing his teeth and grumbling irritably: apparently he should have extended his stay inside his house. Almost certainly it had been his fault: given the comfortable temperatures, in fact, Alan tended to sleep without a blanket, and this had never been a problem before; but since the windows had no glass and could not therefore be closed, perhaps a little wind had risen during the night and he had caught cold… and that was the result. However, Alan had also begun to notice strange signs: when he sneezed now he not only released mucus, but also a few drops of blood. And a couple of times he had also coughed and blood had come out of his mouth too. They were little lumps no bigger than the tip of a fingernail, but they were there nonetheless. Alan had started to worry, but had decided to just sit and wait. After all, there weren't many healers in the village and there were still quite a few patients to tend to, so it didn't make sense to disturb them just because he'd lost some blood.
The next day the situation worsened. The fever had come back much stronger than before, and now the chest pains were much more intense. Every time he breathed it felt like his lungs were on fire. If he coughed or sneezed, streams of blood would emerge from his mouth or nose. His sense of balance had deteriorated and he was struggling to stand. He wanted to go to a healer, he really wanted to, but for some reason he couldn't. He couldn't even look out the window and call people on the street; it was as if something inside him was preventing him from having any kind of contact with other living creatures. If a dragonfly entered his house, he felt a deep revulsion towards the animal and chased it away in every possible way. Finally, he also felt a strange urge. He felt like he wanted to leave the house but not to meet other people but to go to the forest. It was as if the trees were calling to him. He could barely hold on, and in fear of failing he had even tied himself to the bed.
The next morning he was no longer thinking. His chest seemed to explode continuously and every time he opened his mouth blood emerged from it. It was hard to even breathe. It felt like his heart and lungs were about to leap out of his chest. The urge to run into the forest had become irrepressible, and in an attempt to free himself he had begun to incessantly bite the ropes with which he was tied to the bed. The noise he was making had clearly alerted someone, because soon several shadows began to block the light entering the house and Alan could hear murmurs, but he didn't care: he just wanted to break free and run into the forest. Soon someone broke down the door and some people came in and tried to tell him something but he didn't understand. Judging by their expressions he must not have looked good. Finally, one of them cut the rope that had tied him up, probably because if Alan didn't free himself immediately he would have broken his wrist from twisting and bending it. As soon as he was no longer anchored to his bed, Alan ran out of the house, staggering with difficulty and even getting on all fours to avoid falling, and headed towards the forest.
Someone tried to stop him, but Alan prevented him in every way; they called to him, but he did not listen to them. Now he just wanted to get to the forest. When he arrived, he ran towards the thick of the trees and there he felt a new impulse: to stop. It was like this was exactly where he needed to be. The people who were chasing him caught up and surrounded him, and tried to say something to him, but he didn't mind. Then, it happened: suddenly his body emptied of all energy and made him fall to his knees, his lungs and his heart burned like never before, and a stream of thick red blood exploded from his mouth and wet the grass on the ground.
People around him made screams of fear and surprise and disgust, but Alan was barely able to hear them. A second gush of blood emerged from his lips, and this time from his nostrils as well; breathing soon became impossible. Even his eyes, at a certain point, seemed to break and prevented him from seeing beyond what was happening, even if he could clearly perceive streams of blood coming down from them as well. Alan fell sprawled to the ground, gasping for air in his lungs, but his own blood blocked the way. Very soon he lost all ability to think, and finally his consciousness was extinguished altogether.