Si'Dhuen of Trefrost Spire

1

It was a bright, beautiful morning for the mountain city of Trefrost Spire. The light was just breaking over the peaks of the Lowe Slate Sierras, spilling over the grounds of a stately elvish estate at the edge of the city. Dew coated the various shrubs and lawns of the expansive grounds. Small rabbits darted from bush to bush, nibbling at what greenery they could before retreating back to their burrows for the day. Squirrels were emerging from their arboreal hiding places and ventured out for their morning foraging. The birds had begun their morning chorus with the sun, and the day looked to be a pleasant one.
The house was as grand and as gorgeous as the grounds. Though easily over three stories tall, the rustic design and rural aesthetic fit very well with the small patches of pine trees planted on the grounds. The stone work walls, large, shuttered windows and dark brown, wooden tiles on the roof made the house picturesque and friendly looking. Before the house lay an oval shaped turnaround that capped a long, tree-lined driveway that stretched to the property's front gate.
There were only two things out of place on the large, angled building. The first was the entrance to the house, an elegant set of double doors that topped a set of cobblestone steps. The steps were flanked by a pair of wooden pillars that rose from the earthen planters that lined the front of the building, which supported a peaked overhang that sat meters above the steps. The second was a large, open air patio to the right of the doors, which sat in a recess into the building. The deck of the patio was raised off of the ground and was made of sand colored hardwood planks. There were large, paned glass doors that led into the house from the patio, revealing the ornate and plush furniture that highlighted the decor of the sitting room just inside.
Inside the house lived a starkly different atmosphere from the one outside. All through the house was silence, and a somber mood had snared the denizens of the luxurious manor.
The master of the house, Si'Dhuen, sat bedside with both of his hands wrapped around his son's.
The young boy wore a sheen of sweat. Though he had laid in the bed for nearly three days, he continued to struggle to get any rest. He fidgeted frequently as he lay upon the bed, his breathing labored and his sleep shallow. His skin had a strange, grayish hue, his eyes were sunken and his cheeks were hollow. This gave a very skeletal effect to the boy's face. The disease that wreaked havoc on his tiny body had caused him to waste away rapidly.
In his chair at the bedside, the boy's father slung his head lowly. He hadn't slept the night before. He couldn't remember the last time he had gotten a night of rest. His mind turned over the last several, agonizing months. Though it had not yet been a year since the beginning of this nightmare, he had watched those he loved be consumed by this mysterious disease three times. He had prayed that the plague that haunted his family had ended with his wife's funeral. For a short time, it even seemed that it had. As he sat next to his dying son, he realized now it was all wishful thinking.
"Papa," weakly whispered the boy, stirring from his shallow sleep.
Si'Dhuen bolted straight in his seat. He nearly lost grip of his son's hand when he did, but maintained his hold and spoke.
"Papa," the boy repeated, "where is mama?"
Si'Dhuen leaned close over his son, an expression of deep sorrow and concern on his face. "It's ok, Qi, it's all going to be ok. You just need some rest now, and you'll feel all better. Just try to rest, my son." His voice was kind and soft, only the faintest of quivers impeded his speech. He wished there was something more he could do to comfort his son. His son's pain and disorientation from his sickness forced an extra effort from him, and he was wearying greatly.
"Papa, I want mama. Rei is so sick now, I'm scared. I want mama," Qi shouted, becoming frantic and agitated.
His father rose from his high backed chair and embraced his son now. Though he continued to struggle, Si'Dhuen easily restrained his son - the boy had so little strength left. The boy stirred and cried for his mother another moment before becoming still.
"Papa?" the boy asked, looking up with a curious expression on his face. "Papa, why are you on top of me?"
The boy was looking at his father in the face now, in a sudden spell of lucidity. Si'Dhuen recognized the change in his son immediately.
"Hey!" he exclaimed. "There you are, son! How are you feeling today? Do you want something to eat? To drink?"
He spoke softly and happily. His mouth perked up in a slight smile, and his face seemed absent of all traces of tiredness.
Qi smiled back at his father slowly. He made to sit up, but found he didn't have the strength, and settled for laying on the bed. "I'm not really hungry right now, Papa. I think I can use some water, however."
"Of course," Si'Dhuen chirped. He rose quickly from the bed and turned to the low table next to the bed. He picked up the tumbler and pitcher that rested there, and deftly poured his son a glass.
Si'Dhuen lifted Qi's head to help him drink as he lowered the glass to his lips. Qi took a small sip from the glass then pulled away, swallowing with great difficulty. Si'Dhuen lifted the glass away and placed it on the table, his eyes glued to his son.
"Papa, I'm scared," Qi said as tears began to run down his face. "I'm scared. I don't want to die."
Si'Dhuen's face hardened. This was the first time he heard his son speak about the possibility of his death. It frightened him that his son had imagined such a thing. The father now struggled desperately to keep his calm.
"You're going to get well soon, my son. We had the best healers in all the city here to see you - there will not be much time until they come with a remedy for you," assured Si'Dhuen sternly. He spoke to reassure himself as much as his son. "All you need to do is remember who you are. You are Qi'Dhuen, son of Si'Dhuen of Trefrost Spire. The strength of our ancestors flows through us. As they lifted our great city out of the mountain, so, too, shall you overcome this illness."
Qi continued to sob, though drily now; it appeared that all his remaining tears had been spent. His face was twisted into a grotesque mask of sorrow and fear. He took several deep breaths to calm himself, and, finally, his features smoothed slightly. His eyes were wide now as he looked upon his father.
"I'll remember, Papa. I will. Please stay with me," Qi whispered, his breathing still ragged from the crying.
"Of course I'll stay with you, my prince. I won't leave your side," whispered Si'Dhuen, leaning down slowly to kiss his son softly on the crown of his head. He stayed there a long moment, willing his face to remain placid and collecting his resolve for his son's sake. After he regained his composure, he noticed the curious stillness that had overcome his son.
Si'Dhuen backed away slowly, and regarded his son as he lay on the bed. His breath had fallen silent, and he stared upward unintelligently with glazed eyes.
"Qi? Qi'Dhuen, my son. Can you hear me?" asked Si'Dhuen quietly. He bent over his son, bringing his face low to his son's, hovering inches above him. There was no light in Qi's eyes. His lips were slightly parted, but no flow of breath could be felt or heard.
Si'Dhuen could feel his heart lurch, and wildly searched his son's face for signs of life. "Qi'Dhuen!" he now shouted, "Qi'Dhuen, answer me at once! Answer your father!"
He now gripped the boy's shoulders and shook him violently in his panic. He continued through tears which now streamed freely from his eyes, oblivious to the sounds of the small flock of staff that entered the room behind him. He barely noticed as the servants placed hands upon him to try to draw him away from the bed. Finally, he collapsed upon the bed, drawing his son in close as he moaned in agony. The house staff gave up their efforts to calm their master, and one of their number was sent to retrieve the cleric.