Graevale (The Medoran Chronicles #4)

He vaulted over a crumbled archway, reaching back to help her. “Why do you say that?”

“Fifteen years isn’t long enough for this kind of… degradation. There’s no way—”

“Biochemical acceleration after the hospital was abandoned,” Kaiden explained. “Trust me, fifteen years was more than enough to allow for such disrepair.”

Given everything else Alex had experienced in Medora, she shouldn’t have been surprised to discover there was some kind of technology to speed up the decaying process.

“Okay, so that’s where we are,” she said, even if she was definitely getting ancient castle vibes rather than modern hospital ones. “But why?”

Kaiden halted as they stepped into a cobblestoned courtyard surrounded by pillars and more crumbling arches. A murky pond sat in the middle of the space, with the marble tiers of a fountain lying sideways in the stagnant water. The sight tugged at Alex’s heart—as did everything else around her. The scenery emanated feelings of misery, like the stones themselves were leaking melancholy.

“Kaiden?” Alex prompted when he didn’t answer. “Why are we here?”

He caught her eyes as he said, “It occurred to me tonight that we’ve spent a lot of time together, but we don’t really know each other.”

Alex fought against asking if he was feeling okay, since of all the things for him to say, that wasn’t what she’d expected.

“It makes sense that you have trouble trusting me. But I’m hoping…” He ducked his head slightly, his usual confidence wavering. “I’m hoping that getting to know me better may… help.” He looked back up, his features paler than normal but also resolute. “Very few people know about my past. I want you to be one of them.”

Alex wasn’t sure why, but her pulse began to pick up speed, sensing that whatever he was about to share was going to affect her in more ways than one.

Indicating for her to follow, Kaiden started walking slowly around the edge of the courtyard as he shared, “When I was three years old, I got sick. Really sick. Enough that my parents had to bring me here for treatment.” He looked deeper into the abandoned site, seeing much more than Alex ever would. “They diagnosed me with Sarinpox, a common illness, especially in kids. With the right meds, the usual recovery time is less than a fortnight. But that came and went for me, and if anything, I just kept getting worse.”

He kicked a large stone out of their path and continued, “A month went by with no improvement, and then suddenly my fever spiked so badly that I was at risk of brain damage—or worse. None of the usual medications were working, so all they could do was wait and see if I would pull through.” He swallowed. “My parents never left my side. Aunt Nisha took care of Jeera, both of them visiting as often as they could. But even knowing my family was with me—I remember being so scared. So tired. So weak.”

Alex could hear it in his voice. Whatever he’d been through, the memory of it still plagued him.

“My fever raged for four days before it began to ease. I was delirious that whole time, and when I finally came back to myself, the doctors were amazed that I’d survived without any permanent damage. A miracle child, they called me.”

Kaiden’s lips quirked up at the side, but there was a darkness in his eyes that clutched at Alex’s heart.

Suddenly, he changed direction, their seemingly aimless walk now purposeful as he led her to the far side of the courtyard. They stepped over and around more crumbled stone slabs before venturing away from the ruins and into the encroaching forest.

“The title didn’t stay with me for long,” Kaiden continued, “because soon enough, other people began getting sick. A localised outbreak of Sarinpox, they said, a strain that was resistant to treatment, leaving those who caught it to battle the illness without help.”

He held some branches up for Alex to duck under, her attention fixed on him and the story he was sharing.

“I was too young to understand what was happening; all I knew was that my family was no longer visiting me, even though I was on the mend. Back then, my parents were both in the military—Mum was a Warden, Dad a General—so it took days before I learned that they hadn’t just gone back to work, but instead, they were now patients as well.”

Kaiden checked to make sure Alex was travelling fine through the thickening forest before he said, “Children suffered the least, most going through similar experiences to me. But adults…” A loaded pause. “They were a different story.”

They came to a small clearing then, a misshapen patch of ground between the trees. Alex peered around Kaiden’s too-still body, her eyes settling on what rose up from the forest floor. It took her a moment to understand, for all the pieces to click together, and when they did, she stumbled back a step, her hand rising to stifle a gasp.

… Because right there in the fading dappled sunlight were two pale tombstones, their carved inscriptions telling her exactly who they belonged to.

“My parents were two of the first to die,” Kaiden said quietly, staring at their graves. “But they weren’t the last.” His haunted eyes moved to Alex. “I was Patient Zero for the worst outbreak of Sarinpox in known history. It was so bad that eventually they didn’t just quarantine the hospital, they abandoned it. And despite knowing that none of it was my fault, it’s still something I will carry with me for the rest of my life—the knowledge that my parents are dead… because of me.”

“Kaiden,” Alex breathed. She reached for his hand, but she had no idea what she could possibly say.

He looked straight at her, letting her see his pain. It was enough for tears to swim in her eyes, knowing what he’d suffered through, knowing the guilt he bore for something he’d had no control over. That was something she understood for herself, if in a wholly different way.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, knowing it wasn’t enough, but meaning it with every ounce of her being.

He inhaled deeply, the emotions on his face slowly dissolving into something more steady, something closer to how he normally looked, yet still retaining that sense of openness.

“I’ve had a long time to come to terms with it,” he told her. “I still don’t know why I survived when so many others didn’t. But with Aunt Nisha’s help, I’ve learned to accept that there was nothing I could have done. I was just a child who got sick—no one could have known what it would lead to.”

“Nisha took you in afterwards?” Alex asked, her voice still a whisper since she couldn’t manage more than that past the emotion clogging her throat.

Kaiden nodded. “She got sick, too, and so did Jeera, but they both recovered, and once we were all better, we went and lived with her. Nisha’s the only family we have left.”

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