After hours of hopelessly attempting to reduce Ciel's fever, Isiah tried to force the child awake.
He shook the boy's small shoulders with his hands, trying to force his eyelids open. He even splashed cold water over his face, desperate to elicit any sign of consciousness.
Nothing worked. Ciel's eyes remained tightly closed, completely oblivious to the chaos unfolding around him.
Eijar stayed coiled close to Isiah, maintaining her presence so she could assist the moment he demanded it.
In a sudden burst of rage, Isiah hurled the damp towel and the basin across the room, the water splashing violently over the floorboards. He sprang to his feet, pacing back and forth in frantic circles.
The bedroom was neither dark nor cold. It was uncomfortably warm, heated by the massive pile of wood Isiah had thrown into the hearth.
Eijar watched him lose his mind for several minutes before gathering the courage to speak. "I don't think this physical approach is going to work, Master."
