Day 26 - 'help them'

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CW: Illness, implied poison

AN: noooooo I definitely didn't forget to post this definitely not (: (: (:

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If this was an attempt at torturing Nyxie, it is definitely working.

She wipes away the sweat on her forehead mindlessly, continuing to resharpen the sword of some guard she can't remember the name of. She glances up at the sun. It's been about five minutes since she last checked.

She stares down at the sword. It's clearly not-well made. It's hilt doesn't look like it would fit any user, and the blade itself is bent in a way that it should not be moved. It was very clear that bluntness wasn't the problem here.

Nyxie returns to mindlessly sharpening the sword. There's nothing really to do in this heat that can't be delegated to some of the lower class workers, like the farmers and whatnot, so, with her kind of in the middle ranking in whatever stupid system the region has made up this time, it sort of makes sense that this is what she was made to do. Still, that doesn't mean she can't complain about it.

Her train of thought is cut off when she hears commotion at the gate. Curious, she sets down her work on a bench where it can't be knocked off or anything, and decides to go and have a look.

Upon arriving, Nyxie finds that an ill man is being carted through the gates, presumably to the infirmary inside. "Hemlock poisoning," she hears someone mutter.

She quietly trails along the back, going mostly unnoticed until the group makes it to the infirmary. At that point, someone bumps into her. "Hey," they say, "Who're you?"

Nyxie freezes. "Uh," she says, "I just wanted to see what the commotion was, and got carried away? Sorry."

"Well, ya better be," a man at the front says. He claps his hands together, before addressing everyone. "Go back to yer stations, we got ev'rything covered."

Faint grumbles can be heard throughout the crowd, which has grown substantially since Nyxie first came in. However, everyone soon starts to dissipate, leaving only Nyxie and a couple other people still standing there. She was still frozen a bit, but a lot more relaxed, now; just thinking.

"Hey! Weird flower girl." Someone shaking her shoulders snaps her out of her reverie. "Yes?"

"Whatcha still doing here?"
"Uh—" Nyxie shifts from foot to foot, trying to think of an answer— "I might be able to fix them?"

The man doesn't respond, stern look covering his face for a moment longer, before he registers her statement. "Well," he says, "Why didn'tcha mention that earlier?" he asks, quickly ushering her into the room.

Nyxie takes a good look at the person in front of her. They're clearly struggling; sweat streams off their face, they keep half-rolling around on their cot, and they're visibly shaking.

"You'd think," the man says, standing next to Nyxie, "That after some point, they'd stop eating the plant."

Nyxie turns to him. "How much did they ingest?"

The man just shrugs.

Nyxie walks over to the brewing stand in the corner of the room. She kind of remembers the antidote for this, but it's fuzzy in her memory.

Still, it's worth a shot.

She pulls out a jar of what she thinks is the correct plant and cuts it up, tossing it into a separate container before putting a tiny bit of nether wart into the top of the stand, water bottles sitting underneath. After a couple minutes, she sprinkles the plant powder in too.

Out of the corner of her eye, she spots a small jar in the back of the cupboard, pulling it out carefully. Inside, a tiny bundle of ghast tears sits inside. Nyxie grabs one and tosses it in the top of the stand, before putting the jar back.

Nyxie takes the potions out, wincing a tiny bit at the sudden cold of the bottles. She stands still for a moment, before she's nudged by the man. "Help them," he says, "Go on!"

She nods jerkily, walking over to the patient. He's a lot more still, now, but in the kind of way that it's deeply concerning. Nyxie opens their mouth; they're starting to salivate uncontrollably.

With no time to waste, Nyxie opens their mouth and pours a portion of the potion inside. She lets go for a moment, before the patient starts to gag, and she shuts their mouth, forcing them to swallow it. She continues this until the potion is fully gone.

Then, she waits.

For an agonising few minutes, there is no difference. Nyxie starts to panic. She's sure that the potion is supposed to take effect within around thirty seconds after ingestion, right? That's one of the first thing she learned about these types of potion, after all. Maybe it's not going to work. Maybe it'll make it worse. Maybe—

Then the patient starts to settle. They stop sweating, and, after a quick inspection, their heart is still beating, and at a normal rate too.

Nyxie exhales in relief. She turns around, but the man has left. She glances outside. The sun is starting to set. Has it really been that long? She swears it's only been a few minutes.

She wipes her hands on her shirt, already walking out of the infirmary.

If this was going to be anyone's problem, it wasn't going to be hers.

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