5.

Virindia used all his remaining strength to return home, where he was welcomed by everyone before his legs gave way and he collapsed to the ground. They quickly rushed to his aid. He could consider himself lucky to be the son of that deer. If Quinihil were to be classified among the other thinking beings of that ancient land, he would be the healer.

As the days passed, the wounds left deep scars that, upon reaching puberty, only became finer so that they could cover the entire length of his back, but no scar would have been as deep as that of his pride. The altercation had made him reflect on his decisions, his morals, and his beliefs. The more time passed, the less he recognized himself. How had he been able to dishonor Mother Earth in such a way? The last thing he wanted was to disappoint her. He owed her everything, and all he gave her was grief.

By luck or effort, Virindia reached puberty still thin and fragile-looking, but now more astute, more empathetic, and showing signs of who he would become as an adult. He spent his afternoons gathering herbs and fishing for food in a river near the place where deer regularly sought food. He was therefore extremely surprised when Quinihil's right-hand man asked him to accompany him. The boy had to leave his activity to go with his father. Upon entering the room made of branches and weeds where the leader was, he was perplexed by the appearance of his usually jovial father. Virindia was aware that he was ill, but he did not think he was so bad. His fur had turned white, and his eyes were reddish and half-closed.

"I'm sorry you had to find out this way, and I'm even more sorry that you have to see me like this. Right now, I wish I could give you my knowledge so that you could do better than I have been able to in my entire life. Oh, my son, there is so much I have not yet been able to tell you, so much I have to teach you.“ Quinihil had to pause to catch his breath; he was constantly agitated due to his illness. ”I have lied to you. I did not want you to see me as weak, but I can no longer sustain this mess I have gotten myself into. I haven't fallen ill, I've had an unpleasant encounter with Periculum, and he has wanted to punish me in one of the cruelest ways possible for one of us, with a provoked death. My son, I sincerely hope that this is not my fate, but if it is, I have no choice but to accept it.

“Oh, father, I can help you. I am sure there must be a cure. You who know everything, enlighten me and I will find it,” Virindia pleaded.

"I have never managed to cure anyone of the rage of the great Periculum. That creature is simply deadly. No one survives its venom, not even its own minions, who are highly resistant to the poison.

“I can help you. I will show you, sir. I will prove that I am worthy of your affection.”

Virindia began his journey with a single goal. It was common knowledge that Periculum's venom was deadly, mainly because of the lack of knowledge surrounding it. Anyone infected by it died almost instantly. Quinihil's resistance was surprising.