Chapter 41: Sick days, part 1

When Thomas felt just a tiny bit better, he stood out of the bed, and went to the window. It was still raining outside. He shivered. Deciding to go and take another shower, to get rid of the smell of sickness from himself, he made his way to the bathroom.

After the shower he felt better, still, his fever persisted. The potions were on the bedside table. He uncorked the one that was supposed to get rid of his fever, and drank it dry.

Then, for lack of anything else to do, he picked up his harp, and began to play a tune that fit his mood. He really wondered what it would do. Half an hour of playing, and the only result was the music in the room.

The summoner didn't mind. He felt better because of it alone. Sure, it would have been better if his harp could have some healing properties, but he figured that he couldn't have it all.

Thomas laid down the harp, and looked out of the window again. If it hadn't been for this rain, he could be healthy and stick to his diet. Now, on the threat of losing his two friends, he not only couldn't go back to it now that he was sick, he needed to have breakfast as well.

"One kilogram per week, if I am lucky," Thomas murmured to himself. He knew that was nothing. Nowhere near the three kilograms he had lost. He didn't dare weight himself. For, yesterday he had eaten more food than usual. And, those cherries...

"Lucius will be disappointed," this was the second diet that the vampire had given him that Thomas couldn't keep to. "It is not like I asked to be sick."

He laid on the bed, feeling frustrated. Sure, he could move around and even play the harp, but not for long. His fever was not breaking. Teri's wound would heal by the end of the week. The summoner had to be healthy by then.

"I am such a failure," his throat constricted, reminding him that it was sore. He blinked, and then decided to go back to sleep.

When Thomas woke, there was a plate with food on the bedside table and a bowl with cherries. Deciding not to be difficult, he ate it all. Knowing full well that he was going to gain weight that way.

He could hear the sounds of fighting from outside. A look through the window showed a dome that blocked off the rain with Rina and Teri inside. Sparing and laughing.

How he wished he could be down there with them. Now, more than ever, he felt like a dead weight. A cough built up in his chest, and he sighed. He was not getting better. Despite the potions, despite the food.

"How I wish for the rain to just stop," Thomas murmured. Surely, once it got warm again, the July sun was going to help him get better. Deciding that he didn't want to sleep just yet, he went down to the kitchen.

Owen was knitting some dough on the table. The farmer sent him a worried look, looking him over.

"What are you doing up? Just go back to bed. You look like death warmed over," Owen chastised. Thomas sat by the table.

"If I don't get some fresh air, I feel like I would die," the summoner said. This was the worst sickness he had ever suffered from. Were Rina and Teri right? Had he weakened his body so much, that he now couldn't even withstand a drop of temperature?

"Go to the front porch, then. Make yourself comfortable in the rocking chair. Don't forget to grab a blanket," Owen's tone was more concerned than angry now. This obsession of Thomas about weight loss was going to get him killed. Good work meant hearty meals, and the summoner threw mana around like it was candy.

"Hey, Owen, have you always been thin?" Thomas asked. He had been curious about that from the start. Owen was lean, and well-muscled. The summoner wondered if he had always been so.

"You can't get fat on a farm, unless you were never given your share of the work. I take it you grew up in one?" Owen asked.

"I did. My mother wanted me to study. We had farmhands," the ranch where Thomas had grown up in was bigger than Bull's Horns Ranch. More prosperous, too.

"See, that is what she did wrong. You grew up soft, boy. Now, you are chubby and risk your life to change it. But, do you know what? If you keep on fighting and traveling, that will change," Owen pointed at the door, and Thomas felt like the conversation was over.

He stood up, grabbed a blanket from Owen's room, and then went outside. The cool air was like a balm to his skin. Wrapping himself in the blanket, the summoner stared at the dome that protected Rina and Teri.

"He called me spoiled, and had the right of it," Thomas murmured. The pitter-patter of the rain drops surrounded him, and he closed his eyes. Sure, he still had a fever, but the fresh air was making him forget all about it.

"If I ever go back home, I will do my fair share of the work," Thomas vowed. Surely, if others could do hard labor, so could he. "That is, if my older brother welcomes me home."

The dark-haired adventurer closed his eyes. His family's ranch flashing before his eyes. All that time, when he had poured over heavy tomes, getting fatter and fatter.

What had he achieved? He had not gotten to become a healer. His harp skills had been mediocre, at best. What he had read most had been fantasy books. What good had they done for him?

He felt a hand on his shoulder, but didn't open his eyes.

"Tommy, the rain is finally stopping," he heard Rina's voice. He opened his eyes then. The rainbow looked majestic in the sky. Thomas smiled. Perhaps, not everything was lost. Closing his eyes again, he let the cool air give him some reprieve of the fever.