“Tell me why I should help you, when you have destroyed the one thing that will heal so many others?” Ducla asked coldly, yet he still kneeled beside the now gasping Gol’Atan.
“You are still a doctor,’ Vicrae said softly, his eyes intent on the prone Nesnae. “She is the bravest of us all.”
“She is also the sickest,” Ducla stood and looked around at the group of seven Gol’Atan in his lab. “Put her over here. She needs something to fight her fever.”
“Our medicine isn’t helping her any longer,” one of the females said. “This is the worst fever she has ever had.”
Vesta watched carefully, as the doctor’s demeanor softened while trying to help his newest patient.
“We found that herbs and other medicines eventually stopped working on the disease too. When Vesta’s blood continued to work, and quickly, we realized how lucky we were.”