"Salus"
I didn't mean to take so long between entries. I meant to make entries about shopping for clothes, about the halfling hairstylist who did my braids, and about the repercussions of my new outlook on life. But things have been a bit too... hectic here to worry about such things. When Sahn became sick, it seemed a simple matter to cast a cure disease on her. Imagine my shock when that didn't work.
Days passed, and her condition became no better. She would not respond to anything I did, she burned with fever, she murmured disturbingly and thrashed about. It's one thing to lose someone you care about but know that they are doing alright, just with someone or in someplace else. But here, I felt... no, I knew that I was losing my love to this horrid wasting sickness. And that sitting at her bedside was doing nothing.
And so it was that I sought help. Muriel at the bar downstairs was more than happy to send barmaids to check on her. Meanwhile, I buried myself in the Hall of Records, where I discovered an odd thing while going through recent issues of S.I.G.I.S. This sickness had been seen before, and twenty-eight people had died of it in the past month. And an interesting aside... all were either known members of the Free League or merchants. Alarm bells began to ring as I recalled something Sahn had spoken about before when I first saw her faction badge and asked her about it.
The Indep's disease.
Magical, without a doubt. And seemingly tailored to only strike certain people. I did sigh a bit, knowing that surely Sahn would blame the Harmonium were she in any shape to do so, but blame was not my priority. Thus, I corralled the person I figured has forgotten more about Sigil than I'll ever know, and a long-time friend of Sahn's—Amir. The two of us began to scour the Bazaar and seek out what information we could.
It was Amir who found the connection, his reputation evidently bearing more weight than I could muster. Rumors, yes... but even a rumor is better than having no hope at all. The Red Lion Inn, the hidden portal to Tradegate, and the Free League headquarters. A decidedly odd mage who studied healing through arcane magic had built a series of spells with a chance for curing, and in my mind risking a few thousand jink on this was a simple decision.
A day later, I returned to her sickroom with two more of her friends (at what point do I need to start calling them "our" friends?), Ixia and Dom, and was there for the treatment that did finally cure her. And now we're back in Sigil, and I'm able to devote time to something as banal as journal entries. But I'm still not past worrying... the poor girl is a hollow shell of what she was before contracting the disease, but she doesn't seem to realize that she needs time to recover before she can do those things she was able to do before. She insists on wandering about Sigil in her state, and I fear that someone will take advantage of her condition... or even worse, she'll decide to incite something with a Hardhead. She's joked about being tied to the bed, but I'm somewhat considering that may not be a terrible idea. Still, I'm going to have to keep an eye on her... I almost lost her once, and I will not risk losing her again.
Take These Broken Wings
