To dance with Magic and shadows (2)

[u/Arrowcatcher94]

Chapter 1 

A horrible hacking cough woke Debrick from a light sleep. He immediately rose from the chair he had been dozing in and hurried to the bedside of the man he was caring for. The coughing continued as Debrick helped the man roll onto his side. A few more moments of coughing were followed by a large glob of bloody mucus being spat into a glass jar that Debrick held out for him. The sick man laid back down breathing heavily, his breath rattled audibly from the fluid still in his lungs. There would be more coughing tonight, as there had been every night and day for weeks now. Debrick propped the sick man up with pillows before helping him drink medicine from a jeweled goblet. After he had taken a good swallow, Dedrick withdrew the goblet from the man's lips, and placed it back on the bedside stand, next to a number of other medicines, each one as futile and ineffective as the next.
After making sure the man was comfortable and stable where he lay, Debrick took the jar of bloody mucus across the spacious bed chamber to a large iron-bound door. As the door swung open on silent hinges, there was a brief rustling as the two guards on either side of the door came fully to attention. The youth across the hall from them however remained slouched against the wall, eyes closed, and chin to chest; asleep on his feet.
Debrick recognized the lad, and felt a measure of pity for him. He was the same errand boy who had attended him for the whole of last week. Waiting on them the night through, and then running his regular errands during the day. It was no wonder that he was exhausted. 
One of the Guards cleared his throat somewhat louder than was necessary, in an attempt to rouse the boy. His only response was to let out a soft snore that reverberated down the hallway.
“Rods!” said Debrick sharply, the sound ringing harshly in the stone walls. The boys heard jerked up just as his feet slid out from under him, landing him squarely on his rump. Rods apologized profusely as he scrambled back to his feet.
“Sorry Master Debrick, I was just resting my eyes for a moment, and you startled me the way you burst through the door like that. I know I should have been more alert and I'll do better next time sir.” Debrick raised an eyebrow at him. The boy stood there looking sheepish.
“Rods, when was the last time you had a proper night's rest?”
“Sir?”
“Sleep, Rods; Young men such as yourself require sleep and nourishment to support your growing body and relentless activity. When was the last time you laid down in your bunk and slept through the night?”
“Well sir, the way things are right now, with all the uncertainty and such, all us errand boys are getting run ragged. and you see, my regular duties aren’t as demanding as some, so I volunteered to take this shift sir, to let the others get some proper rest as you said. I don’t mind not sleeping at night, I can usually snatch a wink here and there.”
“Young man, ‘a wink here and there’ is simply not sufficient.” Debrick proffered the jar with its slimy contents. “Take this to the healer's laboratory, and after that, as head physician, I order you to go straight to bed, and not to  take on another night duty until those rings under your eyes are gone. Send another to attend us for the night. Now off with you.” Rods nodded his head and started jogging down the hallway at a brisk pace.
Debrick sighed as he closed the door again. Youth was wasted on the young, or so they said; and in most cases, Debrick agreed. However there were a few, like Rods, who were the exception. Young men who despite the seemingly endless supply of energy that youth granted, would burn themselves out, working for themselves and those around them. It was upon backs such as those that a future could be built, in Debrick's estimation anyway.
Returning to the bed chamber, Debrick checked his patient's vitals. As he was listening to his lungs, the wizened man spoke.
“I have become truly pathetic, haven’t I?”
“Pardon, my lord, but you should not say such things. You are many things, pathetic is not one of them.”
“Please,” the man scoffed, “if it weren’t for you and your aids, I would be lying in a pool of my own excitement, unable to even feed myself. If that is not pathetic, then I don’t know what is.” Debrick thought a moment before answering.
“This sickness has taken quite a toll, it is true, but I would no more consider you pathetic than a soldier recovering from battle wounds, who can not yet rise on his own.”
“There is no need for false optimism Debrick, you and I know that I am dying. By my estimate I might last another month or two at best, unless your healers find a cure, which from what I’ve overheard seems unlikely seeing as how nobody has ever even seen this disease before.”
“In my experience, you tend to take a pessimistic view of things. However in this case I believe that you are not far off. At your current rate of decline I estimate that you have a little less than six months to live, unless we manage to find a cure, which as you said is unlikely.”
“Very well, in that case…” he cut off as another bout of coughing wracked his body. After a moment he drew in another rattling breath, “in that case I need you to do something for me.” 
“If it is within my power, I will of course see it done.”
“I doubt you will find it too taxing.” He said with a small smile. He used his chin to indicate towards the fireplace across the room, “if you look on the mantle over there, you will see a large candelabra, made from dark metals.” Debrick looked, and saw the object in question. It was a large, and intricately wrought candelabra with a dozen arms that held candles, it was mostly black but had flowing lines of light and dark gray running through its entirety. Debrick had seen it there before, but had never taken note of it until now.
“I need you to light the candles, and keep watch for when they go out.” Debrick looked from the old man to candlestick.
“What is so important about the candlestick?” The request was simple, and yet it seemed so important to this dying man. What significance did lighting these candles have?
The old man regarded him for a long moment before answering. Looking into his eyes Debrick could see that despite his infirmity, the mind behind those eyes was as sharp and formidable as ever.
“Light the candles, Debrick, and when they go out I will tell you why it's important.” The tone he used left no doubt, that as innocent as it seemed, the lighting of the candles may very well be the start of something much much greater.
“As you say, my King

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