Feeling next to useless, Narda was still uneasy, even if the situation seemed under control for the moment. What if the other patients suddenly burst into flame, or manifested some other supernatural phenomenon? Frowning in frustration and wariness, the giantess ran a hand through her hair, looking around the room at the others, then spotted Envy. He looked afraid, as ill at ease as she was. No, more, given the way he touched the scars on his face. Even Ruli trying to engage him back to their task didn’t bring him back from his fearful daze. Narda stepped closer to him. "Envy?" She said as she touched his shoulder gently. “You’re alright,” she murmured. She had seen this kind of fear in soldiers and warriors, and in ordinary Amrians after the Black Storm. More than just words, she knew when such fears gripped a person they needed to be reminded that there were others around them to help and that the ground was solid beneath their feet. 

Kire exhaled, nodding when Ruli said it wasn’t a coincidence. “Magic is coming back to Amria, huh,” she muttered, frowning. 
“I better go to the other tents and let ‘em now we might expect our patients to combust,” Myka said, needing to be doing something, anything, really, while her mind tried to catch up. 
“What age does magic usually manifest in elves?” Daryll wondered aloud. He turned to the boy. “Did you hear or feel anything right before it happened?” he asked in what he hoped was a gentle voice.
The boy shook his head, taking the charm out of his pocket. “I dunno.” He turned to his father, speaking in halting Taakalon.
“He says, it is like his fever had left the rest of his body and moved to his hands. Something like that,” the father said.

Gavin rubbed his nape. "We got our work cut out for us, huh," he muttered. "Maybe we should ward the camp like we did in the siege? Nullify magic till they got a handle on it? Or if more of 'em get it?"