I returned on the fourth morning, dread filling the space of every nervous impulse my body possessed. I brought up Steele’s odd behavior to Ser Anfroy and the guards who seemed less than interested in what was happening to the Orion.

I was utterly annoyed. Something was going on. Something was happening – and I couldn’t figure it out.

The smartest thing I could have done was to keep my head down, ask Caster for potential places of employment, and let the Orion whither away. What drove me over the edge, however, was the thought that I would let someone suffer when I could’ve dome something to help them. If it were my daughter, I would go to the ends of the existence to help her. Is this how I would treat someone who saved my life?

I didn’t bother retrieving other barrels the evening of that third day. Instead, I threw the lever and descended the Lock directly to Steele’s chamber. It was reckless. It was everything I had tried not to be, but there I was throwing the door open and storming into the poorly illuminated chamber.

Steele was curled up on the ground, arm still tucked around his mid-section. He looked tired and miserable. The barrels were untouched, but that was expected much to my dismay. Staying on the ledge made it hard for me to see him, and my furious determination would settle for nothing less than an answer or compromise from the immense giant. I took up a torch and walked down the stairs along the platform that led along the wall closer to the Orion.

My heart was throbbing in my throat, and I could clearly hear blood pumping in my ears, making them ring slightly. Each step echoed in unison with his breathing, making my movements sound like they were filling the cave and not the Orion himself.

“Steele!” I shouted as I planted myself near the ledge where he placed me just days prior. The chains rustled and there was an audible noise of confusion as he pushed himself up. Only now did I begin to comprehend how dangerous this mission of mine was as I watched Steele’s head crest over the ledge, rising high like the sun. His eyes were turned to the ledge where, undoubtedly, he expected me to be standing. “Steele!”

Those violet eyes of his narrowed in confusion as he scanned the ledge for a moment longer before turning his head to the left and down. The moment he realized I was so close, his entire body tensed and his eyes widened. As if he were afraid of me, he began to push himself backwards. Just to see his face, I had to turn my head completely upward to the ceiling.

“Steele! Please, let me help,” I called out. I could see his mind working by the way his eyes darted around in an attempt to translate my words into his own. I suspected it would come to this, and instantly began to rely on how I used to communicate with my daughter when she was very, very young.

I pointed to him after lodging the torch in my hands into a small slot in the rocks. “You. Steele. You are sick.” The sick motion was a little harder, but I ended up wrapping my arms around my torso and wincing. It was extremely childish, but I could see Steele working out my meaning. I shrugged as dynamically as I could and followed up with the other gestures I used before.

“How? How are you sick?” Somehow, this felt like a game and now, more than ever, I was glad the two reprimanded guards weren’t there to hear me or taunt me for my actions. For some reason, Steele still seemed to be hung up on some of the words I was using, but I didn’t know what else to do. As my mind raced with another way to convey something so fundamental, he winced again as another twisting growl churned his insides.

“That! Sick!” I exclaimed, surprising myself with the volume my voice took, and pointed to him. I was met once again with silence and a puzzled look. Defeat began constricting my throat when I heard him.

“S…ee…si…k? Si-ck?” I could’ve leapt out of my skin for joy.

“Yes! Yes, sick. You are sick. How? I mean, how did you get sick?” I asked. There was a second where his eyes illuminated familiarly before fading again. I followed with more motions by bringing my hand up to my mouth. “Did you eat something? Or drink something?” His eyes narrowed, as if he were trying to see through me. I suddenly realized how close I actually was and that I was ordering, and quite possibly annoying, a being much larger than I was. A simple breath the wrong way could send me flying off of the ledge.

Still, I stood firm as my heart hammered in my chest and my knees knocked as Steele cautiously reached over to the ledge which held all of the barrels and pulled one from its place. I tried not to flinch too hard as another eclipse worthy hand reached up and ripped the top off of the barrel, water spattering everywhere. He was hesitant, almost reluctant, but he reached up and set the barrel down near me once I had backed away a few steps. The side of his hand was as wide as I was, and it felt surreal to think about him catching me the way he did after ripping a sealed barrel open with no effort at all.

I approached and examined the water, swirling it around with my hand and bringing the torch near the surface. Nothing. No discoloration that I could see. It wasn’t until I went to dry my hand that I noticed a faint odor. Garlic? No. It was more bitter than that. I looked at Steele again and motioned for him to get closer and lower, which, to my delight and utter shock, he did. Now I was standing at nearly eye-level with the Orion, a sensation which left my head swirling.

“Could you blow out slowly?” I could almost watch the confusion in his eyes, which were slightly crossed to keep me in his view. “Curses, that was too many words all at once. Um…” I muttered to myself.

“Alright, Steele, can you sigh for me? Sigh? Like this.” I inhaled and exhaled once again in an exaggerated motion. I gestured to him and repeated myself. Steele shifted, seemingly uncomfortable. “Sigh.” I repeated the motion again.

Steele was beginning to pick up on my actions as he inhaled and exhaled slowly. I had braced myself for it, but it was still extremely unpleasant. Warm air from his lungs washed over me. I gagged and coughed as the sensation and the smell hit me. There was a scent of stagnant air, but what caught me was the overwhelming smell of garlic. I didn’t know much about healing and medicine, but what I did know was I was familiar with this particular smell – poison.

It was a slow acting thing and could be confused for simple internal distress. How I knew and who I learned it from was less important than how to make him better – which was something else in my wheelhouse.

“Viyoo-en rhonor?” he asked wearing the most concerned look on his face and speaking in the softest whisper he could manage, still resonating in my bones like the pounding of a thousand horse hooves, but now I had something to cling to. What was more important was part of me seemed to finally understand the phrase; at least, I thought I did.

“Am I alright? Viyoo-en rhonor? Is that what it means?” I asked. Before the Orion could answer, I smiled and nodded. “Yes. Yes Steel. Viyoo-en rhonor. Steele, I’ll be back very soon. Okay? Soon. Bromidian!” I abandoned the torch and began climbing the stairs as fast as my legs could carry me.

~~~~~^*^*^*^~~~~~

I didn’t understand what she was doing. I didn’t understand what she wanted. All I knew was she was trying. I did what I could to decipher her motions and strange language; although, I began to notice patterns in the simplistic way she spoke.

My confusion only intensified when she repeated a new phrase, ‘am I alright,’ in her tongue proceeded by a string of other words. What I knew was she seemed lighter, happy, with whatever she had perceived.

She left for what felt like so terribly long; and just as I curled up to attempt to rest once again, she returned. She had something in her arms that resembled a much smaller barrel, but it was clear. She set it on the ledge before vanishing again and bringing out another barrel. What was she doing? My insides twisted again, but I managed to keep one eye open just enough to watch her pry off the top of the barrel, examine the contents, and pouring the contents in the clear jar into the barrel.

The Factotum pushed the barrel as far as she could to the ledge and gestured. I could only focus on some of her words, but ultimately it seemed like she wanted me to drink the contents. Personally, I had already had enough, but there was an earnestness in her voice which captivated me. Was this meant to help? Perhaps end my suffering? In either case, she said something that seemed like a sincere conviction.

“Trust me. Please Steele. Trust me.”

I didn’t know what it meant.

I wanted to know what it meant.

I took the barrel from the ledge and prayed for an end, muttering the strange phrase she said to me.

“Trust me.”

The liquid was water, but it didn’t taste spoiled or bitter. In fact, it was refreshing and left a faint after taste like winter. Within moments of swallowing the liquid, relief washed over my body. The twisting and knotting subsided. Every tense feeling began to release. Finally, I could breathe a sigh of relief.

“Bromidian,” I muttered with a smile I was sure looked horrifying and exhausted in the light of the torches.

“Thank you – Bromidian,” she said in both her tongue and my own.

“You’re welcome,” I muttered. “It’s you’re welcome.”

“You’re welcome? Is that it?” she said. It took a moment for my mind to catch up, but I finally I thought I had the right pronunciation. I looked into her eyes and she looked into mine.

“Thank you,” I said in her tongue slowly. Her bright eyes, those soft, light brown eyes, ignited like the torch light.

“You’re welcome,” she replied in my tongue, just as slow and hesitant as I had spoken. Perhaps… maybe… this was the start of something. Maybe, finally, I could finally understand.