Merri/Darius | after "The Secret Life of Flan" | G?
Merri had planned to take the evening off to go over his notes for his closing speech tomorrow while giving himself enough time to go to bed early; he had not been able to find an available and willing white mage to see him yesterday or this morning to be certain that he had not caught some sort of foreign disease, and he'd had to make do with potions and Cure. If it was something truly serious, it may not be enough, but hopefully he could stem the onset of something worse for at least a few more hours.
Until he had gone to Cid's lecture.
His gradually growing panic over tomorrow's speech was instantly replaced with near hysterics over the illness he felt now: he saw things that were not there though he had been absolutely convinced that they were until he reached out for them and touched air, his head spun, and he could taste bile in his throat. This must be the Kerwonian ailment. It must! Oh, how could he have ever known that it would have taken hold of him so swiftly?
It was no small miracle that he managed to make it to the medic tents set up for the convention. Merri barely registered the others about him as someone pointed him to a chair to wait; he wanted to protest that he couldn't wait, but then he overheard someone near him speaking. From the sounds of it, others were suffering from the same symptoms as he was. His heart pounded with a new fear: what if this was a new epidemic?
Before too much longer, it was his turn. Merri was unceremoniously escorted inside the tent, and he took a seat where directed. When he recognized who it was who attended him now, he breathed a sigh of relief. "Darius!" If anyone could help him, it would be him!