TELOS TOU KOSMOU // Callahan X Reader

7

It had only been weeks, and the silver death had killed hundreds - if not thousands. The city guards had become a beacon of death in a different way than before; it was them who would pull the bodies of those who had succumbed overnight from the streets, piling them carcasses onto wooden carts to lug them outside of the city and dump them into the mass graves dug there. Healing clinics struggled to keep up with it all, overflowing with masses of the sick. The silver fabric that had once adorned the city for the festival of Sofos was now used as a protective measure against the disease, tied over peoples noses and mouths in hopes of stopping the spread.

It was everywhere - surely, as someone who could understand human speech, he had heard at least something of it?

But no, judging by the pure confusion in his eyes, he had no idea what you were talking about. But again, living in the woods as most satyrs did - and behind the palace, where there wouldn't be regular dumping of bodies, it might not have reached him just yet. You weren't even sure if satyrs could be affected by it, but not informing him would just be a crime.

And you had already trespassed into his herb garden. It wouldn't do to not tell him about the deadly disease running its course through the city as well.

Words dancing on the tip of your tongue, you hesitated, unsure of just how to explain the severity of what exactly was happening. "They're sick." You settled on lamely, unable to express just how much the city was rotting away with words. "And dying in droves."

The satyr blinked at you again, making a few more symbols with his hands. You still couldn't really understand what he meant, but there was a little flare at the end of his phrase that seemed like a question, so you continued.

"It's an infection of the lungs, I think." You said. "It starts as a headache, but develops into a cough later on. After that they're almost completely bedridden. They're feverish and wracked with shivers and it's a trouble to keep anything more than water down... it only takes a few days before their eyes roll back into their heads and they die."

You watched as the satyrs face shifted, moving from confusion and curiosity to sympathy. He gestured to the strip of fabric that hung loose around your neck - your makeshift mask - making that little questioning flare again.

"It's to protect me from the disease when I'm tending to my patients - or, patient now I suppose." You said. "It's worked so far, for the most part. Back at the clinic we only had one or two healers catch it themselves."

He nodded, now gesturing to the herbs you held in your hand with the same little questioning flare.

"Yes," You said, assuming that he was asking if that was what the herbs were for. "The caesar asked me to work on a cure for his champion, and I intend to try my best." You paused. "I don't know how well it will go though. No one knows much about the disease - surely not enough to be able to cure it - and I only have a small window before Ceres will be beyond my help."

The satyrs brows furrowed, his mouth twitching downward into a slight frown. Another round of symbols danced over his fingers, fast enough where even if you had known how to speak his language you wouldn't have been able to understand what he was saying.

"I'm sorry..." You said. "I don't..."

He paused, fingers twitching as he waited for a moment. It was clear that he didn't quite know how to say what he was trying to convey either, just hovering for a second. Slowly, he pointed to the herbs you were holding in your hand, then widely gesturing to the grove around you.

"I won't come back anymore." You said, assuming that he was asking something about how you had even gotten here in the first place. "I didn't know that this was your patch-"

You were interrupted as the satyr shook his head, his brow furrowed now in a different way than before. He wasn't confused - this time it was you who hadn't gotten whatever it was.

He pointed to the herbs again, instead nodding this time. It took you a moment (and him a few more gestures) to get what he was saying, but when you did, you were filled with affection for him.

"I can use the patch?" You asked.

He nodded vigorously, the little frown that had been sitting in the corner of his mouth turning into a smile.

You couldn't help but smile yourself - how kind of him to say you could return. You couldn't have known him for more than a half hour, yet here he was, offering you free use of his own herb patch that he had clearly spent a lot of time on. And all just because you happened to be in the right place at the right time.

This satyr that you had stumbled upon had been more kind to you in the past few minutes than some people you had known your entire life.

"Thank you." You said, bowing your head towards him in thanks and respect, a smile still bridged on your face. With permission to use this patch, you would never have to stray farther from the palace than you were now - convenient for when you would have to be by Ceres bedside for most of the day. "I can't thank you enough - you don't know how much this means to me."

The satyr huffed, a little breath of air just shy of a laugh, and shrugged.

"Really." You repeated, glancing down at the bundle of fresh herbs in your arms.

The satyr just smiled - an amused sort of smile that suggested perhaps he had enjoyed your confusion (at least a little) and waved one more time before bounding off in the direction that he came, little white tail bobbing as he left you to your work.