[Salon, France]
The smell of burning flesh permeates throughout the town, thick fog hiding the roads ahead, men with strange masks walking through seas of men, tending to their needs. Men and women were dying, their skin blackened, blistered as it dripped blood.
A middle aged man was commanding a group of men, telling them to bring the dead to a field, separating it from the ones who are still alive.
"Bring the dead to the square and burn the bodies," he said. "Don't forget to clean your garments after it."
The men just nodded, and hurried, picking the dead bodies that littered the roads one by one, before burning it.
The man just sighed, looking at the horrible sight in front of him. He walked towards a room, his office, and sat down. He took off his mask, and wiped his sweat off from his forehead.
Suddenly, another man entered the place, he looked young, but the doctor could feel this… wise aura from him, he could tell, he knew this mystical stuff since he was a kid.
"Can I help you, Monsieur?" said the man to the young.
"Yes actually." said the man, he has a British accent, but the doctor could tell he was fluent in French, maybe other languages. "Michel de Nostradame… right?"
"Nostradamus." corrected the doctor calmly. "Michel de Nostradamus."
"Right… Monsieur, I was wondering if me and my wife could volunteer in this outbreak… we are outsiders… but I hope we could help somehow…"
Nostradamus flinched as he heard the word 'wife', "Your wife?"
"Err… yes, she's outside… she's already helping, is that alright?"
"Look," said Nostradamus sternly. "The plague is more dangerous than you think, Monsieur, I advise you to bring your wife out of this town before you lose her…"
The man smiled sadly at him. "Forgive me if I bring bad memories Monsieur Nostradame… but… we've decided, she can't be stopped."
Nostradamus sighed. "It's Nostradamus… and fine, I'll allow it." Nostradamus stood up, and looked at the man. "I'll bring you to the warehouse, we need to give you some proper garments to deal with the plague, else you will be infected yourself."
The man just nodded, and he followed Nostradamus outside. "Fetch your wife, we'll give her garments too."
The man nodded once again, and walked away from him, before coming back with his wife. She was probably the most beautiful woman that he ever saw, but he also felt that if he did anything, he'd lose his head instantly.
So Nostradamus just gulped, and guided the couple to the warehouse, just outside the hospital.
"Ah, right, name?" questioned Nostradamus.
"Selwyn," said the man. "Thomas Selywn. And this is my wife, Millicent."
Nostradamus frowned. "English?"
"Is that a problem?" questioned Thomas. "We lived in London for a while, but we are not English."
"Where are you from then?"
"We're Greeks." answered Thomas. "The name is the one we used in London."
"Whoa, a long way from home, friend." said Nostradamus in surprise as he opened the warehouse door. "Why is that?"
"We just wanted to see the world." answered the wife. "Only one life, might as well use it."
Nostradamus hummed as he opened a cabinet. "I wish I could be like the two of you… but alas, I'm getting older, and gout started to consume me." chuckled Nostradamus. He then took two medical garments, and gave it to the couple. "Here, this should fit."
The couple nodded, and accepted the garments. "Thank you for letting us help."
"You don't have to thank me." grumbled Nostradamus. "This job only brings suffering… I'm thinking of retiring after this…"
"Well, what will you do when you retire?"
Nostradamus just thought for a while, and said. "Maybe writing…"
The three then exited the warehouse, before walking back to the hospital. "What kind of writing?" questioned Thomas.
"My family delved into Astrology." answered Nostradamus. "So perhaps I will write about that."
"Astrology? Like the stars?"
"We can see many things from the stars." commented Nostadamus. "For example, the future."
"Really?" Thomas raised his eyebrows. "The future?"
Nostradamus sighed. "What am I saying… forget about it."
"No, no, no, I'm intrigued, tell us more." continued Thomas, smiling at Nostradamus.
Now, Nostradamus was the one who raised his eyebrows. "I said just forget it. We have work to do."
As they continued towards the hospital, Nostradamus suddenly groaned in pain and he almost fell to the ground, before Thomas grabbed him by the shoulder.
"Are you alright, Monsieur?" questioned Thomas.
"I'm fine," said Nostradamus weakly. "It's just gout."
"Gout?" Thomas frowned. "And you're still working?"
"Well, as I said, not for long." shrugged Nostradamus. "It's nothing really, it just makes movement really difficult, but I am just a plague doctor, I don't need to move much."
"Well, I think you should retire early." suggested Millicent. "A gout may develop into something more if you push yourself."
"You know about medicine?"
"Well, we volunteered after all." she answers. "It's not like we just wanted to carry things for you."
Nostradamus sighed. "You're right, but the plague is still rampant in my home, I at least need to help them…"
"You're killing yourself, friend."
Nostradamus smiled as he stood up. "Perhaps, but I just can't see people die helplessly because of this plague… I don't want to see someone's kids or wives dead because of this, while I could help them."
He then walked back to the hospital, leaving the two to tend to the others, while the two looked at Nostradamus, a bit surprised by his words.
---
A/N: bruh, I told you that I would upload less, maybe once a week or so.
anyway, I'll continue the 'upload everyday' thing when Moon knight finishes, because it delves into the past of MCU, I want to see how Bast, Khonsu, Ammit(Lol I can't believe she's a real deity with an avatar in MCU, while I just made her a simple construct in this fanfic), and the other Ennead plays into the MCU stuff, Doctor Strange won't probably expand the past... so it won't affect this fic that much...
Nostradamus was sitting in his office as always, writing prescriptions and combining ingredients to 'cure' the plague. That cure was of course ineffective, but it gave people a sense of hope, so he seemed to make it more and more.
Then, a man entered his office, wearing his plague garments, and he looked at Nostradamus while leaning against a wall. "You should stop, Michel. Your gout is getting worse and worse."
"Maybe just a couple of weeks more." answered Nostradamus, he walked to his chair slowly, his legs practically killing him. "I don't really have anything to do besides this."
The man sighed, and walked to the chair in front of Nostradamus. "Just retire, get married again… your late wife would probably allow it."
Nostradamus gulped. "I- I don't think–"
"I think you can." cut the man off. "Stop sulking, you have to face reality. I hear that the rich widow in town is interested in you."
Nostradamus chuckled nervously. "Thomas, even if I get married, how long will I be alive? 3 years? 4 years? This gout is literally killing me, if I have children with another woman, I won't see them grow up."
"Then don't have children." scoffed Thomas.
"Easy for you to say." said Nostradamus, shaking his head.
Thomas sighed. "Michel, it's okay, my wife and I will take care of this place, you could retire and live peacefully after this."
"You just want to take my position…"
Thomas rolled his eyes. "I'm serious Michel, you're dying." he said.
Nostradamus clicked his tongue. "Fine, if you want to get rid of me that much." he stood up, groaning in pain a bit. "But I will not get married, unless a miracle happens."
Thomas perked up on the words 'miracle.' "What miracle?"
Nostradamus scoffed. "If my gout ever gets cured, I will marry that widow," she swore. "But no children!"
Thomas chuckled. "You sure about that friend?" he said teasingly. "You may have to eat your words."
"My gout will not be cured." Nostradamus stated. "So it's practically impossible."
Thomas laughed, and stood up, before walking away from Nostradamus. "We'll see friend, we'll see."
—
Next morning, Nostradamus had just woken up from his nightly slumber, he sat on his bed, before standing. He walked towards a table, and drank water. When he gulped the last drop of the water, he noticed something, he was standing perfectly fine, no pain, no weakness, nothing.
He looked towards his foot, and he saw that there's nothing wrong with it. He could jump, he could run, in fact, he felt like he was young again. He walked towards the mirror, and saw that his skin looked like it was de aged, like he was in his twenties again,
"What kind of witchcraft is this?" questioned Nostradamus suspiciously.
He examined his body once more, and he found a ring on his finger. It was a dirty golden ring, shining faintly as he touched it. "What is this?" he murmured.
He tried to take it off, but it was of no use. He spent almost all his morning taking off the ring, but it won't budge at all.
He panted loudly as he was tired of trying, and sat down on a chair. "I- What in god's name is going on…"
He then just decided to hide it for a while, and he prepared to go to work, to the hospital.
—
He entered his office back in the hospital, his face looked pale, still confused about what had happened to him. It was a miracle that his gout was cured in a day, sure, but if people somehow discovered it… would it be considered blasphemy? But then again, the catholics are losing their power more and more, maybe it won't come to that.
He put his belongings on the desk, and started to wear his garments quickly, hoping that no one would notice that he could 'walk' normally now.
But then, a certain man entered the room.
"How are your legs, Michel?" questioned the man, smirking as he leaned against the door frame.
Nostradamus flinched. He turned around, and saw Thomas, smiling smugly at him. "D-Did you do this? H-How?"
"What are you talking about?" Thomas said innocently. "I just noticed that you're walking fine, so I was just asking."
"Don't lie to me Thomas." said Nostradamus, rushing towards Thomas, grabbing his collar, a feat he couldn't do until today. "I- I know you're somehow involved in this."
Thomas just smiled, and patted Nostradamus' shoulder. "How are your legs, friend?" questioned Thomas again softly.
Nostradamus froze, and he released Thomas's collar. He took a step back, and sat down on the chair.
"How?" he questioned weakly.
"Me and my wife have been watching you for a while," said Thomas calmly. "You're a kind man Michel. You spend your whole life devoting yourself to help people in these times… even if you have severe gout that could possibly evolve into something worse…"
"Who– What… are you?" stammered Nostradamus. "You came out of nowhere… volunteered to help the infected, at the time where people are sick with it."
"I'm just a simple man." smiled Thomas. He sat down in front of Nostradamus, and calmly stared at Nostradamus. "I saw that you're talented with astrology."
"Yes… I told you many times about my family…"
"You're quite talented with it." continued Thomas.
Nostradamus just nodded weakly, confused on where Thomas is going with this.
"You see the ring on your finger?" pointed Thomas. "Focus your consciousness on it."
"W-What?"
"Just do it Michel."
Nostradamus then stared at the ring. He gulped, and he focused on the ring. Sooner or later, his eyes rolled back, his body spasm, and he began to sweat profusely.
—
Nostradamus woke up on a wide street of a city. He looked around, and saw crimson flames around him. Heat was heating every inch of his body, the sting of the fire could be felt, making his body sweating heavily as he had trouble breathing.
The city, is burning.
People were running away from the fire, some had burn marks, blisters in their skins, some brought their things, panicking as the fire spread.
He could also see rats coming out of the warehouses, a lot of them didn't make it, burned, roasted alive as the fire kept spreading.
Nostradamus couldn't move. He tried to touch the running people, but they just passed through him.
His mouth then moved on his own, speaking on his own.
'The blood of the just will commit a fault at London,
Burnt through lightning of twenty threes the six:
The ancient lady will fall from her high place,
Several of the same sect will be killed.'
After he spoke, he was jolted awake, the fire was gone, and he was back at his office, with Thomas staring at home with a strange smile.
"W-What was that?" questioned Nostradamus, swiping his sweat from his forehead.
"So you have talent." nodded Thomas. The man then stood up, offering his hand to Nostradamus. "Welcome back, my new apostle."
Nostradamus just stared at him confused. But something inside him was compelled to grab Thomas's hand, sealing the deal.
---
A/N: Melania's power is so fking cool... I mean, the boss fight is torture incarnate, but Scarlet Rot power is fking cool man... I hope fanfic authors in the future give their MCs Melania's powers...
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