It was the fourteenth day and the boy was still sickly. For the first nine days, when the boy had been burning with fever, as he still was in the fourteenth, Ranjeeth, the boy’s father, and the village’s main doctor, sat beside him, day, and night. He tried all the medical potions he could think of, used all his experience, and contacted his previous friends, whom he thought were superior to him in the field of medicine, but were not. No one could help. No one could understand what was happening to the boy, except that slowly life started to drain away from him.