(Chapter 43 Fortress of Meropide II)
Tempest jolted awake from the nightmare, his eyes widened as the remnants of the horrific dream lingered in his mind. His chest heaved with ragged breaths, his heart pounding. Instinctively, he brought a trembling hand to his forehead, feeling the heat radiating from his fevered skin. Sweat dripped down his face, soaking his hair and sheets. He gritted his teeth, trying to steady his breath, but the oppressive weight of the dream clung to him, making it difficult to shake off the terror that had gripped him in his sleep.
"What the fuck...?"
Tempest muttered to himself, his voice barely a whisper as the wet towel that had been resting on his forehead slid off, landing on the dampened sheets. It was clear that Constantine had placed it there, Tempest turned his head slightly, scanning the dimly lit cell until his eyes settled on Constantine, who was fast asleep, snoring lightly.
Tempest touched his neck, making sure his head was still connected to his body.
"What in seven hells was that dream? Was that... My fate? No... It can't be... Mmpf, my fever is getting worse..."
Tempest muttered to himself, the haunting images from his dream still fresh in his mind. He tried to shake off the lingering dread, forcing himself to push the memories aside as he settled back down, attempting to sleep once more.
But it was futile. Barely thirty minutes had passed before he jolted awake again, the nightmare's grip on him relentless, refusing to let him rest. His heart pounded in his chest, and he stared up at the dark ceiling, the dream's disturbing visions replaying in his mind despite his efforts to forget them.
"Why won't you let me sleep..."
Tempest muttered to himself, his voice tinged with desperation. He gritted his teeth in frustration, feeling the weight of exhaustion pressing down on him. His eyes were heavy, burning with the strain of staying open, and the fever ravaging his body showed no sign of relenting.
"No choice then..."
Tempest sat up in the bed, his body trembling as he took off his sweat-soaked shirt. The cool air of the cell offered little relief from the fever burning inside him. He took a rag, soaked it, and began to wipe down his fevered skin, hoping the coolness would ease the relentless heat that plagued him.
After wiping down his feverish body, Tempest wore the uniform the woman at the counter had provided. He sat back down on the bed, but sleep refused to come. With his mind too restless and his body too weary, he resigned himself to stay awake, staring at the ceiling as the minutes dragged on.
"Guilty..."
Tempest muttered to himself. An hour had passed, and he was beginning to feel the weight of exhaustion. He closed his eyes, desperately hoping for a few moments of restful sleep. But as soon as he drifted off, the same unsettling dream reappeared, jolting him awake.
"Damn it..."
Tempest was increasingly frustrated. Not only was he unable to find any restful sleep, but his fever was worsening with every passing minute. The heat was relentless, making his head throb and his discomfort unbearable.
"I should've gone to the infirmary if I knew it would be like this..."
Tempest forced himself out of bed, determined to make his way to the infirmary. However, as soon as he stood up, the room spun around him, and he suddenly collapsed. His legs gave way beneath him, and he fell to the floor, unconscious.
"Mm, keep it down, Young Master... Mm? Young Master?!"
Constantine was jolted awake by the loud thud. Blinking groggily, he turned his half-asleep eyes toward the sound and immediately his eyes widened in alarm. Without hesitation, he sprang out of bed and hurried over to Tempest, who lay unconscious on the floor.
"Tempest?! Tempest!"
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"You. Are. Guilty."
Tempest's eyes snapped open as the same disturbing dream replayed in his mind. Weary from the lack of sleep and with his fever intensifying, he scanned his surroundings. He saw several empty beds and noticed a strange-looking girl with pointed ears sitting on a table.
"Mm? Oh! You're awake, mister!"
The head nurse turned her head to Tempest.
'A Melusine? But he looks more human though... Did someone did it with a Melusine?'
Tempest thought to himself, With great effort, he managed to sit up on the bed, his body feeling weak and heavy from both the fever and exhaustion.
"How long was I out?"
"Four hours. It's currently early morning, mister."
Sigewinne replied to Tempest.
"I see."
Tempest replied, and a brief silence followed as he took the opportunity to scan the head nurse's features.
"I know what you're thinking, mister, and it's not that at all. If Monsieur Neuvillette, finds out you're having such thoughts, your trial will be even worse."
Sigewinne warned him with a smile.
"My apologies, you know me?"
Tempest apologized for having such thoughts.
"Of course! I know every inmate here in the fortress because it's my duty to tend to all of them. You are Tempest Proudmoore, and you have been sentenced here for three days for murder and insurrection. The Marechaussee Phantom told me your trial didn't start immediately as yours will be one of the biggest."
Sigewinne replied to Tempest, not even bothered by the accused crimes Tempest has committed.
"I see, you are Sigewinne, correct?"
Tempest asked her.
"That's me! Head nurse, of the Fortress of Meropide!"
Sigewinne replied enthusiastically.
"Alright, let's focus on how you're feeling right now. Here, please take this medication with some water. Oh, and could you please tell me when your fever first appeared?"
Sigewinne handed Tempest the medicine, and he promptly placed it in his mouth before accepting the glass of water she offered.
"I was fine when I first arrived here, but then this fever hit me suddenly. At first, it was bearable, but it progressively worsened until I collapsed in my cell. I can't sleep at all, the same nightmare keeps repeating."
Tempest explained his frustrations to Sigewinne, but she remained silent. Not hearing any immediate response, Tempest turned to her and noticed that her expression had shifted to one of slight surprise, her mouth slightly agape as if taken aback by something he had said, but it wasn't because of that.
"Mister, your eyes are glowing..."
Sigewinne said, her voice tinged with concern. Tempest's eyes widened in shock. Despite his fatigue, he scrambled out of bed and hurried to the mirror to see for himself.
When he saw his reflection, to saw his eyes were just normal.
"No, they're not..."
Tempest said to Sigewinne.
"I swear they were just glowing a while ago."
Sigewinne replied to Tempest.
"What color?"
Tempest asked her, as he was still fixated on the mirror.
"It was yellow, but it looked more like gold..."
Tempest's eyes widened immediately at Sigewinne's words. For a fleeting moment, his eyes had glowed, reminiscent of the time he had dueled with his Father.
"Do you know anything about it? Is it related to the cause of your fever?"
Sigewinne asks him.
"No, I think you were just seeing things..."
Tempest replied, he then went back to the bed. Sigewinne raised an eyebrow at Tempest's answer.
"Are you sure? Mister? I can't help you if you don't tell me anything."
Sigewinne tells him with a serious expression, but there is a hint of concern as well.
"I'm sure."
Tempest lied to her, not wanting to reveal why his eyes glowed. Sigewinne sighed in response before she spoke.
"I won't press any further if you'd prefer. Can you at least tell me what you were dreaming about that made you look so restless?"
Sigewinne looked at Tempest with concern, noticing the dark bags under his eyes.
"I'm having the same dream over and over again... In it, I see myself being declared guilty, surrounded by people wearing these eerie, smiling masks. The scene then shifts to my head being placed in a guillotine, and as the blade drops, my dream counterpart's head rolls into my boots. Then, slowly, the masked crowd turns their faces towards me."
Tempest explained, his voice calm, despite the terrifying dream.
"Hm... Well, I guess that could wake anybody up."
Sigewinne said.
"You seem rather, used to this."
Tempest turned his head to Sigewinne, noticing that despite his detailed explanation of the dream, it had elicited little reaction from her.
"I am, I've been working here for almost four centuries. Patients often come here suffering from PTSD. They too experience nightmares and difficulty sleeping. But yours... it doesn't seem like PTSD. Perhaps you had a vision? But I doubt that."
"So is it my fate to die?"
Tempest asked her, looking at her straight in the eye.
"Well, considering what you've done in Stormwind, your actions were unquestionably unjustifiable. Trials often result in a ruling of imprisonment in the fortress, but in exceedingly rare instances, execution is a possible outcome."
Sigewinne explained.
"I see, so you're not bothered treating a butcher like me?"
"You're an inmate here in the fortress, and just like I said, it is my duty to tend to all the inmates here."
Sigewinne replied, Tempest listened to her words intently, he then lay his head down on the bed.
"If everyone doesn't believe me then, I'll simply resort to trial by combat. I never regretted what I have done, for I did it for the greater good."
Tempest said as Sigewinne put a wet towel on his forehead.
"Can I ask why you started your uprising?"
Sigewinne asks him, while she grabs an incense from her table.
"I doubt you'd believe me anyway, but I guess it won't hurt telling you..."
Tempest said, Sigewinne then lit up the incense and put it on a small table on his side.
"This will try to help you sleep..."
Sigewinne said, she then grabbed a stool and sat next to Tempest's side.
"My Father was planning a coup against Lady Furina on his name day. For as long as I can remember, he treated me with nothing but cruelty, and over time, I grew to hate him for it. So, I did the unthinkable, I gathered a few allies and, within two months, I raised an army to stop him. I killed him, and I don't regret it one bit. Sounds unbelievable, right? Why would a Proudmoore go against a coup against the Hydro Archon? Isn't it in our blood to dream of ridding Fontaine of the usurper who replaced Egeria? Any other Proudmoore would have been eager to join the coup, but not me..."
Tempest explained to her.
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Three days had passed, and Tempest's fever had only grown more severe, spiraling out of control. The relentless nightmares that plagued him left him unable to sleep, and his body was consumed by a burning heat. Despite Sigewinne's best efforts, every medicine she administered proved futile. Now, he lay in the infirmary bed, eyes dull and lifeless, his breathing ragged and labored, as if each breath was a struggle to keep going. The weight of his condition pressed down on him, leaving him utterly exhausted, with no sign of relief in sight.
Time was slipping away, and with each passing moment, the urgency of his situation grew. His trial was set to begin later that day, yet he was in no condition to face it. The fever continued to ravage his body, and his strength was fading fast.
"I've tried everything, but his fever is just not going down, instead it's just getting worse..."
Sigewinne said to Constantine.
"Young Master, can you hear me?"
Constantine said to Tempest in a quiet voice, his face full of worry.
"Teacher?"
Tempest said weakly.
"Just a little more, Young Master, we have walked through hell together to get to this point, request me as your champion when the time comes."
"Mm"
Tempest replied to Constantine, shortly, Wriothesley ran into the infirmary.
"The Warden has requested that Tempest be brought to the Opera Epiclese."
Wriothesley said Constantine's eyes widened in shock.
"He's in no condition to stand trial like this..."
Sigewinne said to Wriothesley.
"I've already informed the Warden of that but he just brushed it off, saying how many people at the Opera Epiclese are already looking forward to Tempest's downfall. No offense or anything."
Wriothesley said.
"None taken... Let's get this over with."
Tempest said, struggling to get up from the bed.
"Wrio, lend me a hand here."
Constantine placed a firm hand on Tempest's shoulder, his grip steady and reassuring.
"Hang in there, we'll get through this."
Constantine said, his voice carrying a mixture of concern and determination. Wriothesley nodded in agreement, stepping forward to join them. He placed his hand on Tempest's other shoulder, a silent gesture of solidarity and support.
"Damn, he's hot!"
Wriothesley frowned as he felt the intense heat radiating from Tempest's body. Concerned, he activated his Cryo Vision, allowing a cold haze to envelop Tempest in an attempt to soothe his fever.
"This should help a bit."
Wriothesley said, his voice steady as the cool mist settled around Tempest, offering a brief respite from the burning heat.
"Thank you..."
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An hour later, Tempest found himself standing in an elevator, surrounded by a circle of Gardes. His wrists were tightly bound in cuffs, and the Gardes eyes never left him, their expressions stern as they monitored his every move. Tempest used every ounce of his remaining strength just to stay on his feet, his body trembling under the strain.
As the elevator came to a halt, the doors slid open to reveal a large, eager crowd gathered to witness his downfall. The air was thick with anticipation, the murmur of the crowd growing louder as Tempest stepped forward, knowing that his trial was about to begin.
"Here I stand..."