Amaris was all skepticism and doubt nowadays, an inevitable result of months of the plague and the horrors he had been forced to endure. So when Sreda came forward, carrying a bag of something between her teeth, Amaris was certain to keep his distance. At least until he knew more and could be confident that whatever had latched onto Fiora would not infect another.

However, at the mere thought of his cousin, it appeared he had done enough to outright summon her.

His name was like a war cry cast into the midday air.

And before he had even a chance to move, his cousin was upon him.

Amaris landed on the cold ground with an ‘oof’ escaping his lips as Fiora’s tongue seemed to loosen with normalcy once again. No longer was her speech sluggish and slow. Instead, she seemed positively coherent…alive and well, much to Amaris’ surprise.

He offered a crooked smile as droplets of Fiora’s tears landed along his snout, Hey—hey—it’s okay. He tried to soothe, his voice holding a breath of a quiet chuckle, I’m glad to see you still kicking! And he meant that. Even if he had once had low hopes for the Witchdoctor’s prognosis.

However, before much of anything else could be said or done—like answering Fiora’s questions or having Sreda answer some of his own—a screech ruptured the air like a knife slicing through glass.

Amaris startled almost instantaneously, throwing Fiora off in one final push as he scrambled to his paws with a heaving chest. Despite being used to the sounds his darker sister often emitted, nothing in his body had prepared him for the sound his ears had heard. Especially when that sound came from his golden twin’s lips.

Aelia…? He called out toward her, his eyes cast in a weary glow beneath the sky. However, instead of rushing forward, offering an explanation, or doing anything remotely normal, his other half made for a bush.

Something in his stomach dropped like a weight. Aelia had been acting weird these last few days, but Amaris had tried to convince himself that it was nothing—that she had just been exhausted, that their trip from the south to the north was too much, and all they needed was a month of good ol’ rest.

His gaze turned toward his older sister, You think Fiora did this to Aelia? His words were not sharp as they fell from his lips; rather, they were numb and quiet as he slipped his attention from Aelia toward Fiora and then back to Sreda.

The sickness has my twin?

No, that couldn’t be.

It couldn’t.

No, no, no, no, NO.

You have something— Amaris quickly added, his eyes growing wide in Sreda’s direction, his voice now holding a panicked note. You made Fiora well. Fix Aelia, too.