Blackwater Islands was hypnotized by a strange delight

His fever broke sometime in the pre-dawn hours. The man slept soundly through the afternoon, in to the early evening, and woke to the sound of a voice carrying through the cave.

Māzigon, Jaes, māzigon; māzigon, Jae—

Nobody was around him. He smelled others that had been: Bridget, the Listener, Morgana, maybe others; he could not pick apart any single person that he knew, and even if he could, the poppies and medicines given to him were still quite strong inside his body.

He lurched upright, then to his feet. Haunches swayed and threatened to buckle beneath the uneasy weight of his carcass-like body.

Jaes, māzigon; māzigon, Jaes, māzigon; māzigon, Jaes, māzig—

After hobbling to the doorway to his particular sickroom, he sagged, then dragged his heels and followed the wall.

Mmm... mazi, he rasped, repeating what he'd overheard; it echoed down the passageway.