What if Benthomaar got terribly sick after his little adventure with Kalmaar through the Tartarus Trench?

It's been a few days since Benthomaar ventured through the Tartarus Trench with Kalmaar.

A few days since he'd been promised that Kalmaar would treat him more like a brother and resent him less.

"You are not my brother. You're just another reminder of my father's pitiful compassion."

A few days since that happened.

Honestly, it still hurt. He really thought Kalmaar was really going to consider him like family. How stupid was he to fall for his manipulation and believe all of his bullshit?

Once Benthomaar had gotten home that day, he cried until nightfall. He picked at his dinner, and tried his best to act like everything was fine. He didn't remember if he slept that night or not, everything was an emotional blur.

That morning, when he woke up and sat up on his bed, he felt a sick feeling in his stomach. He sat on his bed for a moment, his brain trying to comprehend what was happening, before he realized he was going to throw up.

He swallowed. He couldn't, not here and not now.

He felt so very tired. He hadn't gotten enough sleep last night. Or the night before. He thought sleeping earlier would help, but clearly it didn't.

Benthomaar got up from his bed, and ignored the brief dizziness, before getting himself ready for the day. He looked at himself in his vanity mirror.

There were slight bags under his eyes.

It was likely his father was going to notice. Or anyone for that matter.

He headed out the door. He could aleady feel a pounding feeling in his head, and he knew a headache was coming on. He made a mental note to himself to head to the physicians to get some pain killers.

During breakfast, he barely ate due to the sick feeling settling in his stomach.

Trimaar noticed and asked him "Bentho, I noticed that you've barely ate your breakfast. Are you feeling alright?"

Benthomaar nodded. "Yes Father, I'm fine. I'm just not feeling hungry right now, that's all."

That was the truth, he wasn't feeling hungry, especially not right now. Even if he was, he wasn't entirely sure he would be able to keep it down.

If Kalmaar noticed anything particular about Benthomaar's state, he didn't say a word. He barely said a word to him anyways, even during their meals.

Benthomaar quietly gulped. He couldn't keep it down anymore. He needed to get out before it happened.

He stood up. "May I be excused, Father?"

Trimaar nodded. "You may, son."

After Benthomaar walked out of the dining hall and the doors closed behind him, he ran straight for the bathroom.

When he finished, he sat on his knees in front of the toilet, making sure he wasn't going to throw up again. He breathed a sigh of relief, standing up and flushing.

He rinsed his mouth out with water. He gripped onto the edge of the sink for dear life. His headache was increasingly getting worse.

He made his way to the physicians, took the painkillers for his headache, grabbed the spear out of his room, and went to the training yard.

He honestly didn't feel like training today, but he also didn't feel like being inside the castle doing nothing.

Maybe staying inside the castle was better than training today.

Due to Benthomaar's tiredness, he was sluggish and performing incredibly slow in his attacks. His reactions to the attacks Gripe threw at them were too late.

Gripe - and Kalmaar - noticed Benthomaar's unusual behavior during training, and Gripe asked him if something was wrong. Benthomaar said no and he was probably just feeling out of it.

Thankfully, Gripe believed him. But that didn't make training any less harder.

After that disaster of a sparring session, Benthomaar went to his spot to practice throwing his arrows. He fastened three shells on the coral as usual, and got out an arow from his quiver.

He reeled his arm back, carefully aiming it at one of the shells.

He threw the arrow. He missed the shell he was aiming at. His eyes widened. He never misses!

Another arrow thrown. Another miss.

He almost let out a yell in frustration. He blinked once, twice, three times. He didn't realize his vision had doubled.

He felt incredibly dizzy now. That was enough to make him nauseous. He hunched over, putting his hands on his knees. His breathing was starting to become uneven. The tightening feeling in his chest was returning.

He didn't hear someone swim up to him. They put a hand on his back.

"Still 'feeling out of it?'" was Kalmaar's voice quoting Benthomaar's words from earlier.

Benthomaar turned his to look up at him. Kalmaar continued looking at him and sighed. "Answer me honestly, how are you feeling?"

"Dizzy....really dizzy..." Benthomaar said. His body trembled. The sick feeling in his stomach was becoming stronger.

"And you were acting really off during breakfast because...?"

"Felt...really sick...threw up." Benthomaar replied. Kalmaar grimaced. Why Benthomaar didn't stay inside the castle due to this sickness of his was beyond him.

Kalmaar turned his head at Gripe, who had been standing nearby. He gestured at the shark, who continued to tremble beside him. The commander swam over, and gently scooped the shark up in his arms.

Once inside the castle, Benthomaar was taken to the physicians. He was examined and it turned out he was exposed to poison, and there was enough of it in him that made him feel sick and almost unable to breathe.

Kalmaar had been outside when he heard this, and peaked inside to see his father holding Benthomaar's hand while a physician gave him an antidote for the poison.

Kalmaar thought back to when he and Benthomaar swam through the Tartarus Trench. His father forbad him from ever going there because of the poisonous sulphur vents and it was far too dangerous to swim through there.

He remembered seeing Benthomaar get hit with one of them.

Kalmaar waited for his father to leave the infirmary before he headed in himself.

He saw Benthomaar on his side, his back facing away from him.

Kalmaar came more closely to Benthomaar slowly. He hadn't been this physically close to Benthomaar since a few days ago.

Seeing Benthomaar more closely gave him a more closer look at the shark's state. Benthomaar's face was flushed and his forehead was covered in sweat. His breathing still seemed to be a little uneven and shallow. His eyes were closed tightly, seeming that he is trying to sleep due to the slight bags under his eyes.

Kalmaar had heard the physicians say that it will take a couple of days for the antidote to do its job, and he needed to stay in the infirmary for that time being for close observation.

In other words, they were unsure if the antidote will work for Benthomaar. They just needed to wait and see.

Maybe they'll take more drastic measures if it didn't.

"Kal...maar?"

Kalmaar snapped himself out of his thoughts. The shark's eyes were open now, and the way he spoke came out tired.

"What's going on with me?"

Kalmaar sighed. "You were exposed to poison back at the Tartarus Trench. The physicians gave you an antidote, but they don't know if it'll work for you."

"I'm sure it'll work, brother," Benthomaar said tiredly. Kalmaar was a little surprised on Benthomaar's optimism, then slightly chuckled.

"Me too, Bentho."

Benthomaar managed to get better. The poison slowly left his system, and he was back to his normal self by the end of the week. Trimaar - and perhaps Kalmaar - was relieved that the antidote worked

Benthomaar was curious if Kalmaar actually cared about him, even just a little, to this day.

Who knows?