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Derwin Rogers' eighteenth birthday came and went. He knew he was supposed to get his sigil—he definitely wanted to join the Bard Coven—but he had a lot going on, okay? First there was the matter of finals. Those exams were tough, and he needed every minute to cram. Then there was graduation, and who wants to spend their time recovering when you could be celebrating? Then his buddies wanted to take a grad trip, and he was having a summer fling, and he was bonding with his newly-carved palisman, and his sister was getting married…
The next thing he knew, his nineteenth birthday was approaching and he still hadn't gotten the sigil. The Bard Coven sent him a letter in the mail that he was scheduled for a ceremony a few days before his birthday, and he had better attend. That worked well enough for him.
Except the night before, he got sick. It started with a nagging rasp in his throat. Sniffles that never seemed to dry up. By the next morning, he'd thrown up everything he'd ever eaten and was running a wicked high fever. He could barely make the phone call to let them know he was too sick to appear.
"It's okay," his palisman had soothed. "You'll reschedule when he was better."
Derwin did not get better. By his birthday, he had lost his voice completely, could only keep down water and plain bread, and could not get out of bed. His palisman now never left his side, constantly fussing over him.
"Dude, we've gotta get you to a hospital," his roommate said.
Derwin shook his head. He grabbed his scroll and typed, Can't. No sigil, no healing.
"That's literally not even your fault? You were going to, and you were just too sick. That's gotta be an excuse!"
Fine. Try it.
But when his roommate called the Healing Coven, he got a bittersweet dose of Being Right. From the crow's mouth, he heard a pinched voice say, "The Emperor forbids healing wild witches."
"He's not even wild, miss. He was gonna get a sigil, but he—"
The crow's mouth clicked shut. His roommate sighed.
"Sorry about that, man."
Derwin shrugged. Even that little motion was difficult. He tried to type, I'll be fine, but his thumbs dragged on the keys and it slipped from his grasp.
"Whoa. That cannot be good."
He could only muster a moan. His whole body was aching, routed by fever and weakened by hunger. His palisman hummed frantically at his roommate, wordless since he wouldn't understand anyways.
"Hang on." Something thick and gooey wormed under him. He glanced down to catch a glimpse of purple. "This is Ajay. He's gonna carry you to the hospital, okay?"
Derwin did not have it in him to protest.
"Come on, please? He's really sick!"
"As you were no doubt told on the crow-phone: the Healing Coven does not treat wild witches."
"And like I told them on the crow-phone, he isn't wild! He was gonna get a sigil, but he got too sick and they wouldn't let him!"
"No matter how it happened, a wild witch is a wild witch. He needs a sigil before we can treat him."
Derwin grabbed his wrist. "R-n W-sp-rs…"
"Huh?"
"Talk… Raine Whispers."
"I doubt the deputy of the Bard Coven has any time for a wild witch like him," sniffed the triage healer, "But far be it from me to discourage his wild madness."
"Wait, hold up. Do you actually know them?"
Derwin managed a nod. "T-ch-r."
"They were your teacher?" Off his nod, his roommate straightened. "We'll be back—and he'll have a sigil."
The triage healer just rolled her eyes. "See to it that he does."
Raine always relished days like these. Scooter had some stuff on which he wanted his hands only, so he'd sent them home for the rest of the day. They were content to spend it noodling on the piano, accompanied by their very happy palisman. The pair were midway through a particularly jaunty little rag when a pounding at the door frightened them both out of their skin. Pianissimo dropped into their hands in staff form, and they crept towards the door. Whoever it was, they were still pounding.
"Help! Please, help!"
Oh. That kind of pounding. Raine closed the distance and opened the door. Two young men were at the doorstep. One was standing, looking terrified, and the other…
"Student-witch."
"Huh?" They adjusted their glasses for a closer look. "Oh my Titan. Derwin?"
The boy just let out a groan. He reeked of sickness. Could barely open his eyes. They returned their attention to the other kid.
"What in Titan's name is going on?"
"He's sick and they won't treat him 'cause he doesn't have a sigil but it's totally not his fault and he said he knows you can you please just brand him now thanks." The boy doubled over, gasping. He hadn't come up for air once. Raine would have been impressed if it wasn't for the circumstances.
"Okay, bring him inside."
Derwin's friend—Ravi, he said it was—managed to drag him inside and drop him on the couch. Raine made two calls. One to Scooter: the only one allowed to do emergency sigils. And the other…
"Titan-Welpen, what happened?" Annika didn't even pause to gawk, just got to work checking him over.
Ravi gave her the same breathless rundown he'd given Raine. Her lip curled when he told her how the Healing Coven had turned Derwin away.
"You called the right witch, then." She helped him take a few sips from a potion bottle. "This should help the fever, but this sickness is too great for me alone."
Glancing at Ravi, they responded in Kneesian, "Anything to keep him alive till Scooter gets here."
She nodded solemnly and kept trying to heal him. Ravi paced and hyperventilated until Raine gently convinced him to go home and rest. At least he'd be out of the way—and stop stressing out Derwin. Sick as he was, the poor kid looked terrified. When Annika finally began to let up, apparently having exhausted all routes of helping him, Raine sat down beside him.
"Hey, Derwin. It's been a while, hasn't it?"
He cracked open his eyes. "Hi, Mx. Whispers," he rasped. "Missed you."
"I missed you too, kiddo. Wish we were meeting under better circumstances." They sighed. "What happened, huh? I thought you were planning on getting a sigil right after graduation."
"Yeah." He glanced away. "Got busy. Didn't have time."
"Looks like your body found the time you couldn't."
"Mmm." He whimpered. "Hurts."
"I know. I'm sorry, kiddo. We'll be fixing it soon."
"Messed up. So bad. 'm sorry."
"It's okay. You're gonna be just fine. Mr. Crane will be here soon, and he'll get you your sigil so we can go get you better."
"H-hope so…" His eyes fluttered shut.
"Derwin! No-no-no, Derwin!"
Annika shoved them out of the way. "His pulse is getting weaker. Where is that friend of yours?"
Blessedly, it was then that Pianissimo squawked, "He's here!"
"He's here, Annie," they told her. "Go, go, I'll cover for you." She hurried off to the guest room; they heard the click of the lock behind her. Scooter couldn't know they'd contacted a wild witch, so hopefully he wouldn't ask too many questions.
Speaking of, the Head Witch burst in the door, staff in hand. "Where is he?"
"Here, c'mere." They beckoned him over to where Derwin lay, fading fast. He didn't even respond as Scooter hurried over.
"How could this happen?"
"Apparently he was meaning to get his sigil, but never got round to it. When he got sick…" Raine trailed off, letting Scooter fill in the gaps.
"Despicable," Scooter muttered. "What was his name?"
"Derwin Rogers."
"Derwin Rogers," he said briskly, "Is it your wish to become a member of the Bard Coven?"
He did not respond. The little mottled bird on his chest jumped up and down, peeping frantically.
Pianissimo perched on Raine's shoulder and murmured, "Says yes for witch. Save him, save him."
Scooter sighed. Taking Derwin's limp wrist, he said, "By the power vested in me by his Imperial Majesty Lord Belos and by the Great Titan of the Boiling Isles, I hereby admit this witch, Derwin Rogers, to the esteemed Bard Coven, with all of the rights, honors, privileges, responsibilities, and duties thereunto appertaining." He touched two fingers to his wrist, sealing the coven brand there. Derwin's fingers twitched slightly, then stilled once more.
"It is done. Give me the crow-phone."
Raine grabbed for it, but it wasn't there. They looked around, but couldn't find it…
"More witches coming!"
And that was all the warning Raine had before the Healing Coven practically bashed their door down. They swarmed around Derwin, bearing him up and carrying him off. Scooter and Raine just sat there in shock.
"That was… strangely efficient."
"Yeah."
"Wonder who called them."
"Uh-huh."
"And who healed him before they got here."
"Only the Titan knows, I guess."
"Hmm." Scooter looked them up and down. "I don't want to know, do I?"
"No, sir."
"Very well. See to it that I don't, then." He stood briskly. "I shall see you in tomorrow. Good night to you, Raine."
"And to you, sir."
Scooter swept off as briskly as he came. Raine was left sitting alone in the living room. A soft mew sounded at the edge of their hearing.
"He's gone," they said softly. "You can come out now."
Annika sat down beside them. "He really did it, with him in that state?"
"You know how it is."
"It isn't right."
"And? What can we do about it?"
"I ought to be asking you that. Isn't that what you're doing all this for?"
"I'm trying! I can't seem to figure out how."
"You'd better figure out faster. That one, he's lucky. He'll probably live." The 'probably' stung, but Annika pushed on. "You know how many I see who don't? Too many. Too many dying, too young, too painful, because of this-this Blödsinn!"
"I know that! You think I don't? I've been doing this for-for years, and…" their voice wobbled. "Just look at what I have to show for it. My own kids, suffering." Raine buried their face in their hands to muffle the sob.
Annika's voice was quiet with horror when she spoke again, "That boy was your son?"
"Wh-what? No, Titan, no. He was one of my students. I've known him since he was five. Such a sweet kid. He wanted to be a bard more than anything. Just… got caught up in other stuff, I guess."
"I'm sorry."
"It's okay. I needed the reality check." They wiped at their tears. "Thanks for coming, by the way. I owe you."
"Figure out how to fix… that—" She waved at their general surroundings "—and I'll call it even."
"Deal."