At Kazi's home, William was comatose, his breathing steady but shallow. Marta's breath hitched. William lay in the corner on a king-sized bed chamber, alone. So, so alone. Marta crept over and looked down at William, his face pale and gaunt. He looked so vulnerable, so fragile.
Kazi went beside her. He reached out and gently touched William's forehead, checking his temperature.
"Is he going to be okay?" Marta asked softly.
Kazi turned to her and smiled, though it didn't reach his eyes. "It will be okay, Marta. Once I have enough money, I'm going to ask the best healers in the White Abyss for help."
"Isn't that Commander Cedric?"
"Templar bias. I asked around and there's these people called the Sangoma. A vaguely interconnected group of healers who are unequivocally the best at what they do. Curses, sickness, ailment, injuries, anything the people of the White Abyss have, they go to them."
