The morning felt almost like torture. Draco, having listened to Dr Herpetes’s comments and taken his potions, fell asleep and slept through the night without any discomfort. However, the morning proved difficult. Immediately upon waking, he was struck by a terrible headache, stiffness in practically his entire body, and waves of nausea. On top of that, he was plagued by an almost uncontrollable thirst.
As it was still dark outside, and the young dragon had no better idea, he put on his training gear and went off to do something that should give him a bit of a break. At least, that was what he was hoping for.
Although his body was clearly telling him that he had no desire for physical exertion, the dragon forced himself to go for a run. And with every step he took, he felt a little better. Before he realised it, the Heart of Atlantis had long since been bathing the island in its radiance. He trained for a long time, even longer than usual. He was relieved to find that the unpleasant morning aches and pains had faded into oblivion, replaced by a hunger that kept growing. The boy took a few more deep breaths and went to freshen up before tucking into breakfast.
Darius went down to the dining room in a terrible state. He’d hardly slept a wink all night, and now he found it difficult to concentrate on anything. The worst part was that he kept feeling he ought to check on his pupil to make sure he was all right. Unfortunately, every time he was about to enter the dragon’s room, Oscar would send him back to his own quarters. The old man steadfastly repeated that both Draco and the earl needed rest, and that if anything happened, he would notify Bleist immediately. The lack of news throughout the night should have been a good sign, but still, something continued to trouble the wizard.
He sat down at his place at the table and only then realised that someone had already come down for breakfast. Gizel was watching him
