Flash Fiction February 2025 Day Eighteen: A Plague On Both Your Houses! (Naomi)

A/N: Yes, I did have The Plagues from The Prince of Egypt on repeat while doing this, as is only fitting for such a prompt.

Flash Fiction February 2025 Day 18 Prompt: Plague 

There seems to be some strange illness going around portions of the mainland, mostly in the south though there is word of it possibly spreading elsewhere especially if it gets to Mournhold. It sounds gruesome from what I read in the paper delivered by the courier while eating breakfast. It does make me lose some of my appetite the further I get in the report. Which is a shame, I spent quite a lot of time making this shakshuka, and I am determined to enjoy the dish as a reward for hard work and time spent. “Anything of interest? Oh, Shakshuka-” Fyr attempts to go for the still hot dish it sits in, I slap his hand away before he gets a chance to steal my breakfast “Mine. Not for you.” I get an exaggerated frowny face in return. Not reacting, I point towards the kitchen and tell him to go make his own breakfast if he wants to eat, something he rather grumpily shuffles off to do, allowing me to eat and read more or less in peace for a short time. Returning with what appears to be some sort of saltrice based dish and what I assume to be tea Fyr sits down across the table from me. I’m again asked if there is anything of interest in the paper as he begins to eat. “Well, there’s a plague on in the south apparently.” That gets a hum of interest, Fyr does enjoy a good infectious disease or two, very interesting to study in his opinion. “Don’t know what kind, no cure identified of course, limited treatment options as of the current moment.” Another hum of interest, muffled this time due to a mouthful of rice. “Where in the south?” I look closely at the page to see if I can find the location that was listed. “Near the Stonefalls I believe? Somewhere in Deshaan. Meant to target one or two of the Great Houses perhaps? Apparently, if this report in the paper is to be trusted, the plague turns victims into husks of their former selves and eventually they become similar to mindless zombies. If they’re dead or not when that occurs I’m not entirely sure. There are instances where people have reported those who’ve died from it coming back to life and being intent on attacking who or whatever is closest to them.” That last bit of information gets a different sort of curious sound, followed by Fyr getting up, putting away the now empty cup and bowl and walking briefly into another room. I hear some odd crashing noises and a moment later he returns with a pack and a shovel. “Come on, grab your stuff, and we’ll be off.” Bewildered at the turn of events I ask where we are going. “Gravedigging of course, what did you think the shovel is for? This plague business won’t be solved by sitting around, let’s go!” Without one word further of explanation he walks out the door. “I’m an alchemist not an epidemiologist and certainly not a pathologist.” I grumble to myself as I throw together essentials for this very unexpected trip before running out the door to catch up with the really very strange at times, incredibly confusing, temperamental old wizard. “Wait for me!”