Chapter Four: A Surge of Fire

The quiet hum of monitors filled David’s hospital room, the soft beeping marking the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. His mother and Emma had just stepped out for coffee, leaving him alone in his still-unconscious state. The fluorescent lights above cast a pale glow over his motionless form.

The peace was shattered when one of the machines began to emit a shrill, rapid alarm. A nurse, passing by the door, rushed in to check the monitors. Her eyes widened as she read the rapidly climbing numbers on the screen.

“Code blue! Room 312!” she shouted, pressing an emergency call button on the wall.

Within seconds, a team of medical staff flooded the room. David’s body began to convulse, his muscles seizing uncontrollably. His face twisted in pain, and his skin glistened with sweat as his temperature soared.

“What’s his temp?” the doctor demanded as he strode into the room.

“108 and climbing, doctor,” the nurse replied, her voice strained.

The doctor’s face darkened. “We need to ice him down. Now!”

Nurses moved quickly, bringing in ice packs and placing them against David’s body. The cool relief was short-lived; the ice melted almost instantly, water pooling around the bed. They worked frantically to replace it, but the effect was the same.

“Temperature’s at 115!” another nurse called out. “No response to the cooling measures.”

The doctor leaned over David, his expression a mix of determination and disbelief. “How is this possible?” he muttered. “He should be in cardiac arrest.”

David’s body continued to convulse, the heat radiating from him like a furnace. The temperature monitor beeped wildly as it climbed higher.

“120 degrees!” the nurse shouted, panic creeping into her voice.

The doctor froze, his hands gripping the bed rail. “This—this is impossible,” he whispered. “He should be dead.”

And then, as suddenly as it had started, the convulsions stopped. David’s body relaxed, his breathing evened out, and the room fell eerily quiet. The monitors stabilized, showing his temperature dropping rapidly. Within moments, it was back to a normal 98.6 degrees.

The doctor stepped back, his brow furrowed as he stared at David’s still form. “Vitals are stable,” one of the nurses reported. “Temperature’s back to normal.”

The doctor shook his head, his voice filled with disbelief. “A temperature of 120 should have caused irreversible brain damage if not death. This… this shouldn’t be possible.”

The team exchanged uneasy glances, their professionalism hiding the unease creeping into their thoughts. They had seen medical anomalies before, but nothing like this.

David lay still, his chest rising and falling steadily as though nothing extraordinary had happened. The doctor stepped out to make notes, leaving the room quieter but charged with tension. Whatever had just occurred defied every explanation they had—and they all knew it.

David’s vital signs remained stable, but the medical team kept him in the ICU, cautious of another temperature spike. Machines monitored him closely, their steady beeping providing a faint reassurance to his dad, who sat vigil by his bedside.

“Come on, buddy,” his dad murmured, his hand resting lightly on David’s. “You’ve got to wake up soon. We’re all waiting for you.”

His mom and Emma had reluctantly gone home to rest, leaving him to take the next shift. He insisted they get some sleep, though worry etched deep lines into his face as he stayed by David’s side.

Three days passed without incident. David’s temperature held steady, and his vitals remained normal. The ICU team noted the uneventful stretch with cautious optimism, eventually deciding he could be moved to a standard room for continued observation.

On the fourth day, as sunlight filtered through the hospital curtains, David’s eyelids fluttered open. The first thing he saw was his dad’s face, weary but alert, his gaze fixed on the chair where he had been dozing.

“Dad?” David croaked, his voice weak.

The sound jolted his dad awake. “David!” he exclaimed, relief flooding his face. He leaned forward, gripping his son’s hand tightly. “You’re awake. Thank God.”

David blinked, trying to gather his bearings. His body felt heavy, but the warmth of his father’s presence grounded him. “What… what happened?”

His dad’s expression turned serious, though he kept his voice calm.

“You’ve been in the hospital, son. You had a fever—a really high one—but you’re okay now. You gave us quite the scare.”

David frowned, fragments of his strange dreams flashing in his mind. “I don’t remember… I just—” He paused, his thoughts swirling. “I feel… different.”

His dad’s brow furrowed, but he gave a reassuring squeeze to David’s hand. “We’ll figure it out, kiddo. Right now, just rest. Your mom and Emma will be here soon.”

As David sank back into the pillows, exhaustion creeping in again, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something inside him had changed. Whatever it was, it felt far from normal—and the memory of the Jade Dragon’s voice echoed faintly in his mind.

David had barely settled back into his bed when the nurses entered the room, their faces a mixture of relief and professional curiosity. “Good to see you awake, David,” one of them said warmly as she began preparing to draw blood.

David nodded faintly, still trying to shake the grogginess. He winced slightly as the needle pricked his arm, watching as the crimson fluid filled the vial. “Is all this really necessary?” he asked, his voice hoarse.

“It’s just to make sure everything’s alright,” the nurse replied gently. “We’re going to run some tests and see if we can figure out what caused your fever.”

The doctor arrived shortly after, clipboard in hand, his expression carefully neutral. “Good morning, David,” he said, his tone calm but focused. “How are you feeling?”

“Tired,” David admitted. “But… okay, I guess.”

The doctor nodded, pulling up a chair. “We’re going to check a few things, make sure there’s no lasting damage from the fever. It got dangerously high, so we want to be thorough.”

Over the next several minutes, the doctor asked David a series of questions and conducted various cognitive tests—checking his memory, reflexes, and motor skills. David answered them all without issue, though his growing frustration with the attention was evident.

When the doctor finished, he leaned back and gave a small smile. “Well, the good news is that everything looks fine. No signs of brain damage or any other complications.”

“Then what caused it?” David’s dad asked from his chair, his concern still clear. “What made him spike that high?”

The doctor’s expression grew more serious. “We don’t know. We’ve run all the usual tests—bloodwork, imaging—but nothing unusual has shown up so far. No infections, no underlying conditions that could explain it.”

David frowned, the vague memories of his dreams stirring uneasily in his mind. “What about the seizure?” he asked. “What caused that?”

The doctor sighed. “We believe the seizure resulted from the rapid rise in temperature. It’s a rare occurrence but not unheard of. That said, a fever as high as yours... it’s almost unprecedented. Frankly, you’re lucky to be alive.”

The room fell silent as the weight of the doctor’s words sank in. David glanced at his dad, who gave him a reassuring nod. “So, what now?” David finally asked.

“We’ll keep monitoring you for the next day or so, but if everything continues to look good, you should be able to go home soon,” the doctor replied. “For now, focus on resting and recovering.”

As the doctor left, David leaned back against the pillows, his thoughts racing. The medallion around his neck seemed to pulse faintly beneath his hospital gown, a constant reminder that something beyond the doctors’ understanding was at play.

After two more days in the hospital, David finally felt like himself again. The constant fatigue and aching that had plagued him since he woke up were gone, replaced by a surprising clarity and strength. The nurses remarked on how quickly he seemed to bounce back, though the medical team still had no answers for what had caused his sudden collapse and fever.

“Your vitals are perfect,” the doctor said during his final check-up, flipping through the chart with a slight frown. “Frankly, it’s a little baffling how well you’ve recovered, given what you went through.”

David’s dad, standing nearby, gave a small laugh. “That’s David for you. Tougher than he looks.”

The doctor smiled faintly but remained professional. “We’re releasing you, but you need to keep an eye on any unusual symptoms—fatigue, fever, headaches. If anything changes, come back immediately.”

David nodded, eager to leave the sterile confines of the hospital room.

“Got it. Take it easy. Check back if anything changes,” he repeated.

By the time David stepped out into the fresh air, the sunlight felt brighter, the air clearer, and everything seemed sharper than before. His dad guided him toward the car, his hand steady on David’s shoulder.

“Feels good to be out of there, huh?” his dad asked.

“Yeah,” David replied, though his mind was elsewhere. The medallion beneath his shirt felt warm against his skin as if it were alive, humming faintly with energy. He didn’t mention it to his dad; it was something he needed to figure out on his own.

David stared out the window as they drove home, his thoughts racing. The fever, the seizure, the dreams—none of it made sense, and yet he couldn’t shake the feeling that it was all connected. The voice of the Jade Dragon echoed faintly in his mind, a whisper that felt both reassuring and urgent.

By the time they pulled into the driveway, David had made a silent promise to himself: he would find out what was happening to him, no matter what it took.