81st Frost 2622
When Hakon was younger, he would have moments where his mind deserted him, leaving his body to continue autonomously without it. He would only come back to himself later. At first, it happened seemingly at random, and then as he aged, it happened only in times of great stress. Typically but not always, it was combat related. He would start a fight, there would be a narrowing of his vision, and he would stand outside of himself, watching himself fight for his life with a ferocity and tenacity that he was dully impressed by. In those moments, it was hard to feel anything until he was back inside of himself.
It had been years since it happened, but in the early hours of the morning, as he was going to pray, it happened again.
He liked to get up early and start the day with either training, meditation, or prayer. The tower was extra quiet because so many of his brethren were still asleep in their beds and it just felt like a perfect time to center himself in his devotion to either the Path or to his training. This was one such day that he'd decided to a combination of those activities: early morning drills with his shield while it was still so cold he could feel his muscles protesting and still so dark he could barely see his hand in front of his face, then early morning prayer once his exertion warmed him up. He was heading up the stairs to the chapel when he found Vivian.
The lad was tucked into an alcove, and in the darkness, Hakon almost didn't see him. He wasn't wearing his characteristic coat or makeup, either -- plain grey clothes that Hakon had never seen before. Presumably, the Novus had requested them, perhaps to fit in better with the other Guildmages. Few of them dressed as flashily as the young man clearly preferred.
He might have missed him if it weren't for the blood.
There was, to Hakon's panicked eyes, quite a lot of it. First some dribbles on the steps -- Vivian had been descending from further up than the chapel, which was odd -- then a big smear at the entrance to the alcove that in lower light would have blended in to the dark stone of the floor, then a small pool at the source.
He didn't hesitate for a moment, as there was no time to lose. The lad had already been here alone for who knows how long. He instead immediately began channeling vitessence into the Novus' body, as much as he could given his relatively amateurish skill as an Engraver. While he did this, he put a hand to Vivian's neck, and found a pulse. Too slow, and weak, but a pulse.
"Lad, can you hear me?" He asked, but he knew it would be futile.
This was not someone who was reachable via simple words because Vivian was not merely asleep. Hakon was no doctor, but he could tell that something was very wrong. His use of Vitessence demonstrated that amply: as much as he could channel, the Novus' body was hungrily calling out for more. For almost the first time since he'd been an Engraver, his lantern ran low, its usual brightly burning source of energy dimmed to a flickering spark.
He mastered his own fear at what that might mean, and started taking Vitessence from the nearest available source: his own body. Small amounts at first, little pin pricks from his muscles and heart and lungs, then more, then more still. If he were pale and sickly and frail for a few days or a week but Vivian lived, it was an easy decision. It wasn't even a decision at all, really. It was only when his vision greyed and he almost fell over that he stopped. That was as much as he could safely give. The Vitessence wasn't pooling in any one place, but it did seem to be concentrating around the lad's middle. Given the timing and the location of the apparent injury, perhaps there had been some last minute complication surrounding the birth? Or perhaps this was common for birth; Hakon had no way of really knowing, but he knew he needed a real doctor.
When he checked Vivian's pulse again, it was stronger. Still slow, but the heart was pumping with more vigor. That was as good as he was going to get. He took his coat off and lifted Vivian on to it; whatever else was wrong with the lad, his body shouldn't be working to warm him on the cold stone floor. Then he got up, ignored the rush of blood to the head and ran for the dormitories where the Necromancy Fellow lived. He knew she'd still be asleep, and he knew that Vivian needed real help, not whatever poor unfortunate soul was staffing the clinic at this hour, so this was the more expedient route to getting the help Vivian needed.
He knocked on the door, then rapped, then pounded. Moments before he was prepared to summon his mace and beat it into kindling, it swung open. Her quarters were nicer than his, as was her due as a Fellow, and she looked displeased to be roused so rudely. She also was a reformist who believed that everyone was redeemable, and he rather clearly did not, so there was little love between them in the years he'd been in the Tower.
She opened her mouth, perhaps to complain to him about his rudeness, but he forestalled it with begging. "Please, Mother Grün, I beg of you. I've found Novus Kreine in a pool of his own blood and he will not wake up. I've given him all the Vitessence I can and he is still not awake. I need help, real help, so I've come to you. Please come quickly. I'm worried for his life."
Mother Grün, seeing the usually self-assured and vigorous Hakon looking panicked, shaken, and grey, paused in what she was about to say, and nodded instead.
"Very well, then, Magus. We shall see what we can do."
His vision greyed out again while he was waiting for her to put her slippers on. He leaned against the wall and tilted his head back until it passed.
When she came out into the hallway clutching the bag that held her necromancer's kit and a pack of supplies that she handed to Hakon, she gave him an appraising look. "Magus," she said, "You look like you've one foot in the grave yourself. Don't faint on me, now."
"No, Mother," he replied. "I will not disappoint you."
He took the steps two at a time with the heavy bag. It did not matter that his mind was out of synch and parts of the journey seemed to skip ahead or loop backward. He had lived in the tower his whole life and his body knew what to do without his conscious intervention.
When they reached Vivian, Hakon was heartened to see a bit more color in the lad's cheeks than before. He hoped that wasn't just his imagination. He looked back at the doctor's face, and grimaced when he saw it pull into a concerned frown.
"I'll do what I can for him here, then we'll move him to the clinic. I'll get some other clinic employees to move him. You're strong, but you're not steady on your feet right now, and I don't want you dropping him. Give us at least the day with him, and come by in the evening."
Hakon nodded. Someone who knew what to do was going to help Vivian. He was going to be okay. He didn't know this, but he had to believe it. "I'll -- yes, Mother, thank you. I'll clean up the blood, then. I don't want other people to worry."
He made no mention of the blood coming from further up the tower. He would ask Vivian about that in person once the Novus recovered. No sense in making what would be the big news in the tower already even bigger with loose ends and sensational details.
She nodded, and departed to make arrangements. Hakon, for his part, grabbed a rag and some salt, and began scrubbing the blood off of the stairs. It actually went up a few stories -- quite high, indeed, and nothing that would be of any interest to Vivian that he could think of. Beyond this level, it was mostly things like the Armory, the Scarlet Watch headquarters, and-- The Garden. The Garden that Vivian had asked him about rather pointedly not even a week ago. It was, he reflected as he scrubbed in between bouts of dizziness and brief unconsciousness, disquieting, but he had no proof that Vivian had done anything other than climb high up in the tower, and he would not say anything until he was sure. The man was at death's door right now, and he had no intention of letting some Scarlet Watch thug interrogate his friend when he was in this state over what was mere speculation.
Vivian would be okay, and then he'd ask him what he'd been doing so far up in the tower. If the explanation was what he feared, well, he'd deal with it then. For now, he had earned the benefit of the doubt.
