The plague

'There's no point scaring her further, for now at least.' He thought, heading back to his quarters. The nun never stopped to spy him from afar or judge any of his doing, just like colonel Elven had done until now, she had her doubts and her faith, she could only apply what she believed already to what she saw.

The more he moved through the camp, the more cough he heard.

Everyone around him was sick, the uneasiness he felt aggravated as well. But over a few minutes, it became so uncomfortable he had to give a try spitting the thing that itched his throat.

Cough! Cough!

Nothing changed. A minute passed and again he had to cough anew. Passing next to a man that was leaning on the ground, inert, he saw a sort of tuber sprouting out of the man's face. The tumour had taken over the man's face over the past few days, it was no isolated case, over a hundred people suffered from the same disease since its outbreak.