Chapter 17 - Stories Spreads.
FLASHBACK CONTINUES -
NEXT DAY -
Dhira pushed himself up again, slower this time. His arms trembled, not from fatigue or exertion, but from something deeper, something unfamiliar. Weakness that he didn't feel in ages.
It was very unfamiliar. He looked around for his mace, and saw it resting near his bed and ahead of it near the wall stood his brother.
"What happened?" He asked, his head still buzzing.
" You lost consciousness."
" Great guess genius." Dhira said rhetorically and tried to move.
" Why do I feel so... weak?" He tried to walk but couldn't, he felt lead was in his chest.
" You are sick, " said Vijay, who was not in a very good mood.
" Sick me?" He said and stretched, slowly getting back to his senses .
" Go check the vine I drank . The quality of wine in Red light is quite worrying if it can affect a true warrior like me."
That line again. Vijay felt this line this concept has changed something in him.
" It's not the vine Dhira." And Dhira looked at his brother puzzled.
Vijay exhaled through his nose and said in a low voice .
"The physicians…" he started, then paused again, choosing his words carefully.
"They said your blood is changing."
Dhira frowned deeper. "Changing how?"
"It's… thickening," Vijay said.
"Slowing down. Like it's… fighting itself." Dhira blinked once. That didn't make sense.
"That's not possible."
"I know."
"No, I mean it," Dhira pressed, irritation creeping back in.
"That's not how bodies work, not mine atleast."
"I know," Vijay repeated, a little clearer this time.
" There is something wrong in your body and they are saying it could be a temporary thing or maybe something bigger, it could be dangerous."
The two just looked at each other. A beat passed. Then Dhira scoffed and looked away, running a hand through his hair.
"Then they're wrong." Vijay didn't reply. Didn't interject.
Dhira felt something wrong in this silence. He turned back.
"Say something? say they are stupid, say they don't know anything and they are wrong."
"I don't think they are." The words landed heavier than they sounded. Dhira's eyes harden.
"…so what, I'm completely fine now." He said and summoned the mace and swing it a few times.
" See." He said, always proud.
Vijay was about to say something when he saw Dhira's face changing slightly, and he saw Dhira clutching his mouth.
Vijay immediately went close and checked on him.
" Dhira! Are you ok?" And he looked at his brother who was coughing and looked a shade paler.
" Dhira..you are bleeding."
"Nothing is wrong." Dhira tried to defend.
"You collapsed yesterday."
"I was drunk."
" What about now? Is this blood also you drank yesterday?"
" It's nothing." Vijay couldn't stand it .
" DHIRA." He said loudly. And Dhira paused as well.
" There is something wrong, Dhira."
" I have talked to some other medics who study in blood related healing and medicines, even though they said they didn't know what exactly this is. But they do know it's not normal." His voice once again went quiet .
" The few who have some guesses say it's either an infection or a family disease."
Dhira looked down at his own hand.
" Family? Do they even know what they are talking about? I don't have a parent."
And Vijay said.
" Everyone has parents, Dhira. one of them might have it." Hearing this Dhira asked.
" Why are you saying it like it's serious?" And Vinay replied, "it is serious Dhira."
" For people like you, a illness to have such an effect, it must be serious. People like you don't get sick so easily."
Dhira looked up again. Something about that line… It didn't sit right. "…what are you trying to say?" he asked, quieter now.
Vijay didn't say anything, and his gaze went down.
" I'm Dhira. I've survived far worse. What is this… a small cold?" The words left his mouth fast, automatic. And then, he froze.
Not because of pain. Not because of weakness. Because he had heard those words before. Not from someone else. From himself. "…wasn't strong enough to survive a mild cold." The alley came back. The dust. The wind. That voice he didn't recall clearly.
Dhira's eyes change and he remembers the blurred voices in the wind. Dhira didn't believe it was real. He heard his brother saying.
" We will find a way."
Time passed. Things collapse slowly at first just like the story spreads slowly at first, but soon it becomes a wildfire. Just like they collapsed all at once.
The news of Dhira's illness spread. At the beginning it was just whispers. People talking in corners. Servants lowered their voices when Dhira passed. Guards exchanged looks they thought no one noticed.
Then came the searches. Vijay sent word everywhere. Healers, sages, forest witches, temple priests, wandering monks, anyone who had even the smallest knowledge of strange illnesses was called.
Dhira was taken from one place to another, tested, examined, prayed over and over. Fed bitter medicines that made his tongue go numb. Everywhere the same answer. "I don't know." Or "It might be an old ancient disease." Some didn't even say that much. They just shook their heads and stepped back.
Things changed when one of the doctors, an old man who had been treating Dhira for days, started coughing. It wasn't much.
Just a slight fever. But that was enough. Rumors don't need truth. They need fear. By the next morning, the story had already twisted. Just like the tails they used to tell. "Dhira is infected." "It spreads by touch." "The doctor is dying." None of it was fully true. None of it mattered.
Vijay and the king tried to stop it. The king tried harder. Orders were passed, mouths were shut, a few people were even punished. Still… the rumor moved faster. Like fire under dry leaves. And someone, somewhere, was feeding it. Old memories came back. People remembered the plague from years ago. The one that wiped out entire streets. The one that forced the old king to pass that law. If you are infected… you leave. No argument. No exception, not even the king was exempt from this law.
Voices started rising in the streets. At first small. Then louder.
"Keep him away."
"What if it spreads?"
"He's already sick."
"What if we all die because of him?" Some still defended him.
"He saved us."
"He fought for us." But fear doesn't listen.
And slowly… those voices got drowned. Voices rose, Dhira didn't care. He was too busy in finding the cure being poked by the medic and anyone who claimed to cure him. Everyday a new person will come, saying he can cure him, none succeeded. Days blurred into each other. Different faces. Same answers. Same looks. Nothing worked. And that made him worse.
In an isolated room, sealed off from the rest of the palace, Dhira sat in a stone bathtub filled with crushed herbs and thick medicine. The liquid clung to his skin, sticky, uncomfortable. He scratched his arm again. That itch. Still there. His irritation grew.
"Useless…" he muttered. His mace rested beside him, leaning against the wall. Silent. Heavy. Watching.
The door opened. Vijay stepped in. He didn't say anything at first. Just stood there. Dhira didn't even look.
"What now?" he snapped.
"Another healer who wants to poke me and say 'I don't know'?" No answer. Dhira clicked his tongue.
"If you don't have anything useful, get out." Still nothing. That irritated him. He turned his head slightly.
"…What?"
Vijay finally spoke. "We need to talk."
Dhira let out a dry laugh."Then talk. Don't stand there like a statue."
Vijay took a step forward. "The people—"
"I don't care about the people right now."
"They care about you." Dhira rolled his eyes
. "Good for them."
"They're scared."
Dhira slammed his hand into the water. It splashed against the stone.
" It's just a minor problem they don't need to be scared about, tell them I'll be fine." And Vijay looked at him and said with a heavy face.
" They are scared of you, they are scared of you." Dhira paused for a second; he didn't believe his own people would be scared of him. His voice rose, and he said in a loud voice.
" What nonsense you are talking about, why are they scared of me? I'm their savior, their Rakshak (protecter)."
Vijay flinched, but didn't step back. "They think it spreads." Dhira paused. Then scoffed.
"And they believe that?"
"That's not the point."
"Then what is the point?" Vijay's voice dropped. "They're asking for your banishment." Silence. Dhira stared at him. Then shook his head slowly.
" That's not possible. They love me." And he looked at his mace, beside him. .
" Voices are clear Dhira, someone definitely flaming the flames but the voices are clear." Dhira snapped. " Than find the one spreading it, don't talk to me for this trivial matter and let them ask, no one will listen to them."
"They're not asking anymore." That landed. Dhira's eyes narrowed. Vijay continued. "They're demanding it." The room felt tighter. Dhira leaned back in the tub, forcing himself to relax..
"They won't do anything."
"They already are." Dhira looked at him now. Properly.
"And what are you doing?" Vijay lowered his head.
"I'm trying to stop it."
"Try harder."
" I'm trying hard." And Dhira looked at his eyes. " Probably not hard enough."
That did it. Vijay stepped closer.
"I have been trying! Everyone has been trying their best." Dhira waved a hand dismissively.
" Then why am I here?" Silence snapped between them. Vijay stared at him.
"…You think this is a joke?" Dhira's tone turned sharp.
"I think you're overreacting." Vijay let out a breath. Shaky.
"Panic? Mildly?" He pointed toward Dhira.
"You can't even stand properly."
"I don't need to stand to think."
"You're coughing blood like it's free." Dhira stopped for a second. Then forced his hand down.
"It's nothing."
"You collapsed."
"I slipped."
"You're lying."
"I'm fine."
"Stop saying that!" The shout echoed.
Dhira went quiet. Vijay's voice dropped again.
"…Stop saying that." Something in his tone… cracked. Dhira looked at him. Really looked this time. Vijay looked exhausted. Eyes red. Hands shaking slightly.
"…Dhira," he said, quieter now,
"you are dying." The words didn't hit like a blow. They sank. Slow. Heavy as a mountain . Dhira opened his mouth to respond,to argue, to laugh, or atleast say something. But nothing came out. For a moment… he just stared. Because Vijay wasn't angry. Wasn't shouting. Wasn't trying to win. He just looked… broken.
Dhira's gaze shifted away.
"…You're overthinking I'm Dhira the true warrior, one chosen by Gods." Even though he was sick, his pride wasn't. Vijay didn't argue this time, his words true warrior always irked him like it wasn't a good thing. He sometimes argues with him about this sentence but this time he didn't.
That was worse. "I talked to everyone," Vijay continued.
"Healers. Priests. People who don't even take money. Everyone said it's a family disease, they can't cure it." Dhira stayed silent.
"They're saying your blood is changing, becoming thicker, darker." Still nothing.
"They're saying your body is- "
"Enough." Dhira's voice came out low. Vijay stopped.
Dhira looked at him again, irritation rising back like a shield. "Then find someone who knows."
"I'm trying."
"Try harder."
"I am!"
"Not enough." Same words. Silence. Then, Dhira snapped.
"This is your fault." Vijay froze.
"What?"
"You heard me." Dhira pointed at him.
"You can't even find a guy that can cure me, you could not find the person spreading it, hell! You couldn't even find what illness I have. You are just making me run around like a monkey on display. Making this bigger than it is."
Vijay stared. "…My fault?"
"Yes." Dhira leaned forward slightly.
"If you actually did something useful instead of acting like the world is ending-"
"Stop." Vijay's voice cut through. Sharp. Final. Dhira paused. Vijay looked at him, his eyes tired. Moist. But steady now.
"…Don't." That one word held everything. Dhira's expression hardened again, he didn't look at him.
"Oh now you don't want to hear it?"
"I've heard enough." Dhira scoffed.
"Then leave." A beat. Vijay nodded slowly.
"…Alright."
He turned, walked toward the door. Stopped there for a second. His hand rested on the frame. He didn't turn back.
"…They're questioning you, Dhira." No response.
"They're afraid of you." Still nothing.
"And I…" A pause. Small.
"I don't recognize you anymore."
That one… lingered. Then—
, the door opened. And closed. He left without him looking back.