Algernon, with a medical journal in one hand and a healing encyclopedia in the other, paced quickly down the hollowed hall. His heart rate increased with every step. He was on a mission, a mission for Abeline. He had been tasked with finding out a specific ailment that plagued one of her patients. He only had a few days before the patient would succumb, well that's what Abeline said at least.

His lofty head of curls bounced with each step. His feet were probably moving at least double the recommended walking speed of the university, if there was one. The broad, red hallway was arched and was a stunning example of the Brunnholdian architecture known through the kingdoms. Instead of looking straight ahead, he looked everywhere but. He marveled at the hallway he dismissed when he was a student. Being an adult had put things in perspective.

Algernon, still gazing at the architecture, took an abrupt turn into the hallway that lead to the infirmary.

Busy, busy, busy. Aurelie felt as if all she'd been doing lately was running back and forth down these red halls delivering packages and messages all over the school. If she had liked the exercise and the change of pace at the outset, she loathed it now. She was a cook, not an errand-girl. A futile outcry of protest from the bottom of her heart, though her head knew that she was anything they said she was.

Boxes piled, high, Aurelie had to rely entirely on her peripheral vision and sense of hearing to tell her if anyone was coming down the hall. Unfortunately, these were not particularly reliable at all. Distracted somewhat by the sole of her left slipper coming away from the back, she wasn't particularly aware of her surroundings.

Even so, colliding with another moving person came as something of a surprise.

The shear pain felt in Algernon's gut was the most unpleasant physical pain he had felt in a while. Despite the half-Hessean's build, his pain threshold was that of a sickly first former. He only had a spit second to see the pile of boxes with the blue dress coming his way. If he hadn't been in such a hurry, he probably would have been able to avoid the passive.

Recovering from the collision, Algernon looked down at the fallen girl. You. he thought. He had experienced the passive four days before. He thought the magnificent size of the school would prevent him from meeting the same help twice; the fates must have had another plan though.

"Here, let me help you." He said, reaching down for one of the many boxes.

Had Aurelie not been so busy being sprawled out on the floor in a most ungainly fashion, she probably would have been able to take note of the familiar voice. As it was, she felt a resurgence in the nausea she'd been subject to for the past few days. Ever since she'd slipped and cracked her head on the kitchen floor, in fact. For a long moment, she could do nothing by way of reply. All of her attentions were fixed firmly on making the ground stop moving beneath her. Why did she have to fall so much? She'd never been this clumsy before.

"Unnn." This was as much as she could muster up in response. I'm going to be sick, oh Alioe, I'm going to be sick all over the floor in front of some golly jerk. Dying would perhaps be a kindness.

The passive had only responded with a grunt. This was not good, not good at all. Why did this have to happen to him? He just started working at the university, now he was going to be let go for seemingly abusing a passive. How could no one else be in the halls during this? The one time when another person was needed.

"Oh no, oh no." Algernon dropped the boxes he picking up and rushed to the girl's aid. "Please tell me you are alright. I don't need this right now, not now." He examined the girls face. It didn't look damaged in anyway and he couldn't see any other physical damage, it must have been internal; that was even worse.

Without thinking, he picked her up and cradled her in his arms. "Guess we're going to the infirmary."

"Wh--!"

The word was barely out of her mouth before it was replaced by a squeak of surprise. A moan followed when another wave of nausea gripped her, and she thought that for all his strange gallantry she would be sick all over the Hessean after all.

"The boxes?" It was a weak protest. Honestly, all this jostling of her head wasn't helping matters much and she was finding it difficult to think. Maybe the infirmary would be dark, and quiet. She didn't really know-- Aura couldn't remember the last time she'd been inside. Passives were not often taken there. Ixbridge was a healer? Maybe she'd be there. Aurelie thought she might like Ixbridge, as much as she could like any golly.

Who was this person, anyway? Aurelie hadn't been carried anywhere in-- well, since she was a child and her sister carried her to bed. She was a bit old for this, wasn't she? And a bit... passive? She could feel his field, whoever he was, and it made her distinctly nervous. For all that she felt so many fields all the time, it was rare she got so close. It wasn't helping with the sick.

"The boxes will be fine." He said, barely looking down. "I'm sure one of the other passives will be asked to pick it up." Algernon sighed. He wasn't sure what he was doing. He was helping a passive, that was obvious. He wasn't sure why, though. He wasn't, Alioe forbid, a sympathizer; but if someone was hurt it was his duty to help.

His faced reflected a neutral quality. He wasn't happy about what he was doing, nor was he the least bit frustrated; he was just doing it.

"I'm very sorry for colliding into you. I hope I haven't caused anything bad to happen to you later." Algernon was not ignorant to the way passives were treated in the University, but he (like all the galdori) turned a blind eye to the happenings. "I can always be contacted if I am needed to defend you." Algernon frowned slightly. What was he doing?

After a few more minutes of walking, they finally reached their destination. The main room of the infirmary was bustling with nurses and healers. It seemed a duel had occurred and one of the patients had a swollen face. The other had two black eyes. Everyone seemed to stop when he entered the room though. They saw he was holding a blue outfit, not something one sees regularly.

He stopped a passing nurse. "Do you mind fetching Healer Ixbridge. I might need her help with this patient."

Curious about the hubbub, or rather the sudden lack of it, Healer Ixbridge peeked out of her office. There was her assistant--that positive wall of a man--speaking to one of the nurses. Said nurse glanced back, giving Abe an inexplicably dirty look before scuttling off to attend to the unlucky duelists.

It was then that Abe noticed the girl dangling in his arms. She hadn't before. Algy cut such a heroic figure that it seemed perfectly natural for damsels to be hanging off him. Like moss from a tree.

"Aynesworth!" she called, dodging through the stalled buzz of activity. She arrived without yet recognizing the faded blue of the skirt. In her school days, she'd spited the 'grand' young ladies by pointedly ignoring fashion trends (unless they were particularly worthy of mocking). "What happened? What's her conditio--"

Aurelie. It's Aurelie, you numbskull.

Dreadful secrets flew up from the depths, like discarded newspapers from the dives. On those pages, in indelible ink, illustrations of that passive's face sat beside neat, orderly columns of irreparable scandal. And on the first page, a poignant drawing, in Campion's style, of dear little Triston sitting at a tiny grave.

Anything Abeline could do to prevent it, she would. And that included snubbing a valued acquaintance.

Huffing in feigned annoyance, she hissed to the senior healers, "I'll take care of this." A nurse or two glared at her, but the senior healers were professionals. Nothing ruffled them.

As the bustle resumed, Abe beckoned to her assistant, pretending not to know the red-headed slave. She started down the hall. "Come along, let's get her away from the commotion."