《The Alchemist》


 Sin

    Taria, Capital city of Taris Empire, First day of winter, 789 Imperial calendar.


    Big blotches of darkness slithered over the deserted alleys as first winter clouds passed under the moon. While the snow had yet to come and lay its blanket over the empire, evening wails of mutated beasts filled the world with fear and anxiety. Like every winter, dwindling game and lack of pray pushed creatures of darkness and bygone days, out of the wilderness and into the more populated areas.


    Even while sitting at the cozy heart of the empire, Taria, the home city of the eternal empress fared no better than countless villages strewn around its outskirts. Just like every other place on the continent, hordes of blood thirsty monsters terrorized its people. Be it beggars from the slums, rich merchants or nobles from the upper city or even the empress herself, the creatures made no exceptions among their victims.


    However, unlike other places where poor huddled together in hopes of surviving frigid winter nights, Taria offered its residents a semblance of safety during those bloody nights. Walls of stone and ancient magic encircled its districts while its faithful guards made sure nothing could climb over this fifty-foot-tall barrier.


    In its seven hundred years old existence, not even once had the guardsmen failed the people they sworn to protect. Guardsmen lost their lives on the wall, outside of it or on occasions when the winters turned sour, on the streets of the city itself. And yet, not a single citizen suffered under their watchful eye.


    Haygar, like all previous chiefs of the watch before him, found strength and pride in that fact. They were there to serve, and their sacrifice saved the lives of many.


    Thus, hundredths times more was his pain when his orders came from no other than the ever-youthful lips.


    Go and apprehend that man. Drag him out through the streets. Let the people know the villain that victimized their daughters and spilled blood of their sons in his horrid experiments. Expose the evil this charlatan hid under the guise of good for so many years.


    The empress said.


    ¡°Sir! This must be a mistake! It cannot be!¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s something wrong with the orders!¡±


    ¡°Sir! We cannot! Half the city owes its lives to this man! It must be...¡±


    ¡°Breach the gates.¡±


    His cold voice silenced his men. He knew too well what that alchemist meant to all the citizens. He knew how many guards still had limbs and their lives thanks to that man. He knew how many times a tiny bottle with a potion that man concocted saved a life in this wretched place. He knew all too well.


    They came from every part of the empire, seeking help when healers or priests failed, were too expensive or simply did not want to dirty their hands. They came here and left with a miracle if such miracle was feasible. Or if not, they left with truth and sometimes a potion to ease their suffering. From those he never took any payment.


    Just by this virtue, people loved him. Praised as true saint.


    Pay whatever it is worth to you.


    Haygar still remembered those words and the voice that awoke him. And the eyes, there was something in those eyes that made people want to pay as soon as possible. He¡¯s been bringing him half of his pay for half a year until the man himself laughed it off and said he no longer needed to do so. He settled his debt. Were the exact words the alchemist used but, how can one know what one¡¯s life is worth?


    The mansion gate collapsed without trouble under their first try. Their battering ram smashed the wooden planks as if they were but a mere paper. As if someone removed all the enchants that guarded this gate for the bast hundred years.


    Nor were there any defenders. His countless servants gone from their posts. Only an empty plaza welcomed them when the dust fell. Haygar, expected nothing else from this man. For a time now he felt in his gut this day would come when people began missing but he could not believe it would arrive now of all times.


    He sheathed his sword. He knew there would be no use for it. He was sure of that as he was sure of the innocence of the man. He could say countless things about him, none of which would fit with his current orders.


    ¡°Secure the plaza, let no one in or out.¡±


    A useless command. There would be no one else within those walls. Nor would a soul interfere.


    ¡°Asiz, you come with me.¡±


    Together with his first lieutenant, they climbed the few stairs that separated this small plaza from the main entrance. Like every time when he came here, the doors were open. He pushed them aside and walked into the corridor all the guardsmen knew too well. Their blood had stained the floorboards along the path they took. His own blood contributed to a big brown blotch inside the room before which they stopped.


    But they did not enter this room. At least not today. Thank be the gods he had no need to send anyone here in the past few years.


    No, they went past that room and after knocking on the door from which light came, they entered one of the attached workshops.


    ¡°Good evening commander.¡±


    Calm and composed voice greeted them from across the room. There, with his back facing them, a young man busied himself with a burbling apparatus. Strange shapes of twisting and turning glass occupied the entire table before which the man stood.


    ¡°I¡¯ll be there with you in a moment.¡±


    He addressed them again, his hands busy mixing a potion with a glass stick. With each measured stir, the muddy brown goop cleared, turning into a vivid pink color. Satisfied with his work, he decanted that from his flask into a bottle which he then corked and sealed with wax. When the wax set, he wrapped it with straws and leather.


    ¡°If it¡¯s no trouble, can one of your men deliver it to old Tom? It¡¯s for his daughters. He¡¯s staying under the White Meadow.¡±


    The man came to them holding the bundle.


    Haygar gave a nod to his lieutenant and the bundle changed hands.


    ¡°Thank you.¡±


    The young alchemist smiled and presented his wrists. As if he knew why they came. As if he acknowledged all the crimes blamed on him.


    ¡°Did you, do it?¡±


    Haygar had to know.


    ¡°It does not matter whether I did it or did not. The sentence has already been made. Was it not?¡±


    ¡°It matters to me! ¡°


    Purple, snake like eyes of the young alchemist measured the old guard, the one he once saved. Waves of restrained rage rocked his old yet toned body.


    ¡°You are a good man commander. Do not put your neck under the axe for the likes of me.¡±


    Haygar grabbed the man by his green tunic and hoisted him up so their eyes could become level.


    ¡°Answer me or I swear you will not leave this room alive.¡±


    By cruel fate, the same arms that the young man saved, spending hours to sew them back onto the maimed torso, now threatened his very own life. Well, he brought it upon himself. His mistake came to hunt him. Why did he ever agree to that request?


    A little glass vial he had hidden inside his sleeve came to his mind. All it would take was a gentle nudge with his finger. The vial would crash against the floor and even this mountain of a man that held him, would not stop him.


    Yet, he made no attempt to resist the guard. Instead, he let out a deep sigh as if something similar had already happened to him before. As if it was bound to happen.


    ¡°In a way, yes. I am responsible for their fate. I have made the monster that claimed their lives and now she has sent you for my neck because I have denied her. Do not let yourself fall into her scheming. She will do whatever it takes to hide her perversions. One more life or a thousand lives. There is no difference to her in her rotten mind. Do not become her next victim. ¡°


    Those simple words cut deep into Haygar¡¯s soul. She. Just the thought burned his heart with pain he could not describe. All those years. He felt, he had a hunch... How could he fail so many when the culprit sat in broad daylight?


    He lowered the man back onto the ground. Tears gathered in his dried-out eyes. So many years it¡¯s been since he wept. He had sworn to uphold the law. Lay his life as a price if need be but, to betray his friend. To betray the one that saved his life and the lives of countless others... His mind raced. He knew what to do. He will take his men and put an end to...


    ¡°No. That will not work. She cannot die within these walls while your sacrifice will leave all these people defenseless. No Brother. The watch must keep guard. You have your orders. Do what you must.¡±


    Brother. He was not worthy of such title. He did love the mage as one of his own kin but... Their eyes met for one final time. Haygar released his green robe and let his arms fall. Knowing well that this righteous blood shall fall on his palms, he declared in a breaking voice.


    ¡°Alarian Farrow, In the name of the godly empress I hereby detain you under the charge of torture, manslaughter and illegal experimentation on human subjects. Resist and you shall be executed where you stand.¡±


    ¡°Do as you must commander.¡±


    Farrow once more presented his wrists yet none of the two cuffed him. Instead, they walked him out of his house and into the awaiting wagon.


    Taria, Capital city of Taris Empire, fifth day of winter, 789 Imperial calendar.


    Making as much noise as his armor allowed, Loui stomped through the corridor leading to the only occupied cell in this solitary wing. There were shadows hugging the walls now that they removed half the lanterns. For cleaning and maintenance, that is.


    He made sure he had not stared too much into those. For sure there was no way somebody would hide in those shadows. He cleared his throat and found something remarkably interesting on his boot at the same time as he though he saw movement within one of the shadows.


    But there was nothing within those shadows.


    With disappointment painting all over his face, he moved along towards the back of the dungeon. There, against all hope Loui had in his heart, a man sat cross legged, meditating.


    Loui inspected his cell through the bars. Aside from his steady breath the alchemist gave no other sign that he was even alive.


    How could such a clever man not realize and see all the work they put in accommodating him here, contrary to the empress demands? He even oiled all the hinges this morning so they wouldn¡¯t squeak a pip when moved.


    And yet...


    ¡°What a humid place this is. Everything rusts so fast in here. Those damn locks won¡¯t even close properly.¡±


    Loui tried again, loudly murmuring to himself. Yet, as before, the mage made no attempt to move.


    ¡°So sleepy, I knew I shouldn¡¯t have drunk that much yesterday...¡±


    He made the show of yawing and sat himself in a corridor where he could no longer watch the only occupied cell. For the first time in four days, his prisoner opened his eyes and sighed at him.


    ¡°I appreciate the gesture, but you and your colleagues should stop. You are putting yourself and your families in danger.¡±


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    For a man awaiting gallows, Farrow¡¯s voice sounded calm. Confident even. His odd purple eyes gazed into Loui¡¯s back for a long while before he spoke again.


    ¡°How is your wife?¡±


    The guard¡¯s stomach tightened. The mage remembered him?


    ¡°She¡¯s fine, sir. Thank you, sir. If she shaves her face and hands, one can¡¯t even tell. She¡¯s much better at it now than I am.¡±


    ¡°She doesn¡¯t suffer any sudden mood swings or complain of it being too tight or uncomfortable?¡±


    Loui¡¯s face flushed.


    ¡°Oh, no. No, sir. No. Nothing of the kind sir. I think she likes it. We like it¡­¡±


    Farrow¡¯s smile made the guard¡¯s face burn.


    ¡°T-The fur I mean. Especially now in the winter. Before she always complained of the cold.¡±


    Three years ago, during a spring thunderstorm, a lightning came down and set their home on fire while he was on duty in the city. A falling log trapped his wife inside. Even though a nearby water mage put out the fire, the burns she suffered, made it so that no healer wanted to treat her.


    Like any other guard, Loui run to Farrow begging. Would that man be a devil himself, he did not care, at that time all he could think of was the charred body of his wife he held in his arms.


    Farrow said yes.


    They took the skin and meat off a wild cat caught the same day since it had to come from a living creature and since its size matched that of the wounded woman.


    Loui still remembered the smell of the charred flesh the alchemist scraped off his wife.


    He remembered the diabolical grey glow of an elixir they forced down his wife''s throat and the way it made her scream. He remembered the horrifying, puss bloated creature his wife become before the new skin took hold. He remembered her painful wailing whenever she awoke. He remembered their embrace when her bandages came off after four months of suffering. He remembered how his hands shook when he shaved his wife for the first time.


    At first, they tried to get rid of all the fur but now his wife bothered only with shaving as little as needed to not raise any uncomfortable questions. Besides, their daughter loved her fur too much and, he too has grown fond of the exotic beauty his wife now hid underneath her robe. Farrow did more to his wife than save her life. He sculptured her body to appease her mind. Did whatever he could so she would never detest her new skin. Made her newfound beauty blanket the horror she went through.


    He remembered all of that as he stared into those purple eyes locked behind the rusting bars.


    ¡°They are both fine, sir. More than fine, sir. Thank you, sir.¡±


    Silent tears dripped from Loui¡¯s eyes. None of the two people he loved above all in his life would live if it wasn¡¯t for this man. His conciseness tortured him that he must betray this innocent man.


    ¡°I think I¡¯ll be going now.¡±


    He turned on his heel and was about to leave when that calm and noble voice stopped him.


    ¡°Aren¡¯t you forgetting about something?¡±


    ¡°Ah, yes. Yes, sir. Right sir. My apologies sir.¡±


    Reluctant, He took the key hanging near the cell, so near that one could reach it through the bars and locked the cell. Confirming it wouldn¡¯t open when pushed, he asked.


    ¡°Sir, are you sure about this? There are many hidden exits out of this place. No guard would see or say a thing and there are plenty of doors in this city that would welcome you, sir.¡±


    ¡°Loui, best you go now. Your family is waiting for you. Oh, and remember to take the key with you.¡±


    With a broken heart, the guard left. His sniffling sobs carried through the darkness long after he vanished on the stairs leading out of the dungeon.


    Good.


    The one he waited for would come soon.


    Eventually, she would come.


    Taria, Capital city of Taris Empire, ninth day of winter, 789 Imperial calendar.


    ¡°You... what have you done to me!¡±


    A creature that once could¡¯ve been a woman, screamed at him through the iron bars. Clad only in a stained piece of cloth that slipped off her when she came to grasp the bars, she screamed at the meditating man, froth dribbling off her skewed mouth.


    Farrow gazed at this sudden apparition.


    Feet used to wearing expensive heels and sandals of finest leather now dragged on the ground bare and malformed while darkening skin showed they¡¯ll be soon replaced with animal hooves.


    Skin so soft and clean that bards sang ballads praising its beauty turned sickish and discolored, sprouting strange hairs in many places.


    Breasts that once charmed the emperor and brought many men to lose their head now sagged empty on her flattened chest while six new nipples came forth from her belly.


    Face that once could rival that of a goddess now sat crooked at the top of her lengthening neck as a snout formed out of her lips.


    ¡°I welcome the great empress.¡±


    His smile earned him the ire of the enraged creature and her power smashed him into the opposite wall. His mediocre magic could do nothing against a tenth-class sorceress and her godly magic. The shield he conjured vanished under her raging spell as if it wasn¡¯t there.


    ¡°Undo this, I order you!¡±


    Coughing out blood, he blinked himself aware once more and straighten up to look onto her face.


    ¡°Why would I?¡±


    Just those words cost him a rib as she tossed him against the walls of his cell with the flick of her finger. Would she kill him after hearing the rest?


    ¡°You have brought that upon yourself. A thief could be paid to break into an alchemist¡¯s lab, but you need a fool to drink an unmarked...¡±


    A flash of light and pain smashed him again against the wall, however this time the attack fell short as her entire right arm took on its new animal form. As if somebody ripped away her arm and replaced it with that of a gazelle. He could only imagine the degree of pain such instant transformation brought her while her scream shook the entire dungeon.


    Being a second-tier magician made him turn towards the art of potions. At those he excelled and had no equal. A brutal truth this goddess of magic learned by her own folly.


    ¡°The more you use your magic, the faster the transformation will progress. At this rate, by the dawn¡¯s light it shall become permanent.¡±


    She summoned a spear with her left hand and stabbed him through the bars. Farrow could only watch it skew him under his shoulder.


    ¡°The antidote! I order you where is it?!¡±


    ¡°You have brought this upon yourself. Have I not told you I would bring it to you when its ready? Did you trust my words? No, you had a spy planted among my servants. You had her take it behind my back and bring it to you. I gather that child too died for her blind and misplaced devotion.¡±


    This time it was his turn to howl when pain robbed him of reason while she lifted him off the ground. His entire weight resting on the shaft of her spear lodged inside his body. At the same time her spear began glowing red and heat ate at his flesh.


    ¡°The antidote!¡±


    Her speech was no longer that of a human but took a guttural tone of a throat forced to make sounds it was never meant to give.


    ¡°What makes you think there is one?¡±


    Her power pulled his body into the iron bars as her remaining human hand closed around his neck.


    ¡°You had drunk this before me! The slave saw you do so without harm. Give me the antidote!¡±


    Her, twisted, inhuman lips frothed bloody foam with each word she shouted out. Her grip stopped his breath and cut off his blood going into his brain. Darkness began to dance before his eyes.


    ¡°I hid it outside the walls!¡±


    He rasped out fighting with her hand. Would this monster kill him now in rage, all would be for naught.


    ¡°Where?!¡±


    She released her hold and dropped his body to the ground.


    ¡°Do not try my patience! Give me the antidote or I¡¯ll make sure you¡¯ll be begging for death through the rest of your immortal life.¡±


    A threat she sure could turn into reality. The monster he made reveled in pain of her victims. Why had he let himself be swayed by the words of his friend? Immortality? Eternal youth? Ageless empire? Ruled by undying nobility? A world united under one name? A utopia where not a soul would live in fear of wars or endless strife between households? Madness!


    Why did he ever invent that accursed potion? It did stretch the life of those that drank but at what cost?! Madness! Madness and greed. After she, the one that was supposed to become the pilar of his unending empire killed the first emperor, he made sure to destroy all evidence of his sin. Purge the world of means to create more of blasphemous concoction. Had he learned the side effects it had on lesser minds. How it could twist weak hearts... There was no day he had not cursed his own arrogance and stupidity to boast of his accomplishment. What did he hope to achieve back then? Fame? Recognition? He created an ageless monster and almost succumbed to her whispers to follow her path. To stretch his life at the cost of others.


    His elixir of eternal youth granted them nothing but eternal damnation and unquenched thirst for murder. They could stretch their life at the cost of depriving others of their lifeforce. Like a leach, they could steal the life of those around them to extend their own existence. Something Darion could never do. He was adamant about reversing their change. He urged him to find a way. He died because of his conviction. No. That was not it. Darion died because of Farrow¡¯s own words. He was so sure of himself. He convinced them he will perfect the potion if they give him enough time.


    But time passed and he was no closer to a solution then when he started. Then the thirst came. First to him as he tested the serum on himself. Then a year later to Darion as he was the second to drink it. He was also the first of them to die and the only one that did not taste blood.


    How blind they were to ignore when Shinra awoke to the demonic calling that twisted their mind. She hid it so well. Deception was how she best Darion who was her equal in power and superior in skill. With him gone, there was no one who could stop her.


    Perhaps that convinced her that sparing his life could bring her no danger. He was but a sparrow in her grasp. Yet one that could still be useful. One she could squash at any moment. And a need for him she had. While being only a second-tier mage, he had ben spared the torment her ageless body suffered whenever she abused her power. Casting any powerful spells would case her body to deteriorate at an accelerated rate. To the point she had to consume hundredth times more essence than he to retain her beauty and life. Thus, people in entire empire began to vanish.


    How many of those deaths were blamed on wild beasts, bandits or, on him? How many went unnoticed? Nobody knew. The monster he made consumed countless lives.


    ¡°It Is hidden far in the forest. If you spare me, I shall guide you there. If we leave now, you may make it before ... ¡°


    She ripped her spear out of his flesh. He repeated as calm as his blood loss allowed him.


    The creature gazed at him for a moment then struck his face with the butt of her spear.


    ***


    Farrow couldn¡¯t remember how he got out of his cell or who stopped his bleeding, but a sudden weightlessness combined with even more abrupt stop, awoke him. Rolling onto his back, he saw the carriage they thrown him out off.


    ¡°Which way.¡±


    One of the accompanying knights asked since his lady no longer could use human speech. Her head turned into that of an animal. Her entire body was not that far behind, only the fact she walked on two legs instead of four, separated her from the terrified game hiding in the forest. No less frightened, her head turned left and right at the sounds only her animal ears could pick up.


    The exact result of the dosage he prescribed in the memo that unfortunate girl took along with the potion he made. It took so many years to prepare this chance. So many years to lull her suspicions. So many years to wait until her desperation grew enough to cast away her caution. Had she realized a simple mana meditation was enough to detoxify her body from the effect of that serum he would be dead by now.


    Iron tipped boot busted one more of his ribs. Or maybe it was the same one? No matter.


    Coughing out blood, Farrow got up and moved into the tree line. Time was against them. Distant howls confirmed his worry. With each heartbeat the smell of his blood and the animal stench of the scared empress called to hunters of the night. He had to take them deep enough for there to be no chance for her to escape her fate. As for his own? He did not care. He will gladly atone for his sins. Only before he could do so, he must make sure she would meet her end here.


    Moving as fast as his body allowed him, he trailed towards the sacred spot. A place of power left by the forerunners. An ancient stone circle into which no beast could enter. A place only those gathering herbs knew of and often used when night caught them inside the forest.


    Would those old charms be effective against what lurked in this darkness? He could only hope. Not a soul came back from outside the walls after getting caught by the winter night. Even during daytime military caravans often Sustained heavy losses while they moved between bordering towns.


    But that was of no consequence. Just his cowardly mind trying to trick itself into thinking he could survive this suicidal plan.


    ¡°Monsters!¡±


    One of the following knights bellowed as something too fast to be seen ripped apart his companion. Oh gods. Not yet. Not now. They had not gone deep enough.


    ¡°Quick this way! There¡¯s are old ruins ahead of us! We can hide there!¡±


    Farrow called at the top of his lungs before breaking the defensive line the knights made. He run ignorant of bare branches of shrubs beating against his face and limbs like tiny whips. Fear of goursom death numbing the pain of his tortured body.


    And luck rewarded his efforts. Fear took hold over everyone as they rushed after him, lured by the promise of safety. Where in the beginning, this orderly group of fifty knights had some chance to resist a solitary beast, a panicked and fleeing crowd could not help but be sniped and devoured one by one. Thus so, their group dwindled down to measly three, including him, the empress and one final knight.


    With burning lungs and body protesting each step he took, Farrow¡¯s eyes found the gentle glow of the ancient stones, set deep into the forest moss and devoid of snow. A place of perceived safety awaited them within his sight. With last of his strength, he tossed himself into the circle they formed and felt the calm wash over his body as he crossed the ancient threshold. A promise of warmth and care soothing his shaken mind.


    The same barrier that granted him safety, denied the empress entry with a bright flash of light. Her animal face smashed against the invisible wall and left a bloody imprint floating in the air as her body bounced back. Shocked, she stood up and with her hooves rebounding against the invisible border, she whined and squealed at Farrow while somewhere behind her, screams of her last faithful knight died out after a metallic crunch.


    The young alchemist forced himself up and for the final time gazed into the horrified eyes of the monster he made so many years ago. Monster that would outlive four emperors and kill so many more.


    All because of a potion he once made. All because of his childish desires.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡±


    He spoke, not too sure how much of a human left behind those horrified animal eyes. Once more he had robed her of her humanity. He twisted her to the point even this ancient magic no longer recognized her as a human being.


    ¡°It is all my fault. I should have never made that elixir. If I knew where it would lead us, I would have never listened to Darion and his drunken tales.¡±


    The runes carved in stone that marked the divide between them burst into life, illuminating the entire clearing as a beast clad in miasma approached them from the shadows.


    ¡°I am so sorry.¡±


    Paralyzed by terror, the empress collapsed to her knees. Tears he had not expected, dripped from her eyes and down her muzzle.


    That was the last he saw of her face as the forest horror pressed her body against the ground with one of its foreleg then closed its maw around her head. For a moment her body trashed under its hold but soon went slack as her head came apart. Skin, bones and tendons ripped away in a flash.


    He stood, watching the creature feast upon its victim¡¯s body, bit by bit tearing it apart. It chewed and swallowed without an undue rush. All six of its eyes gazing into Farrow¡¯s face. Taunting him as it made no attempt to cross the glowing line. It has done his bidding. It killed the monster of his make.


    Forest north of Taria, tenth day of winter, 789 Imperial calendar.


    How odd it felt to be awoken by warm morning light. To be alive. A gift he did not deserve.


    It worked. His plan worked. Four hundred years of waiting and planning. And it worked. She won¡¯t harm anyone. Not anymore.


    It worked yet it felt like a failure.


    All those innocent lives lost. He will remember that to the end of his life. An awfully long, long life.


    If he is going to live it. Winter days were no safer than nights. One could always meet a hungry beast. Or guards searching for answers where their liege has gone.


    Thus, he could not linger anywhere near this town. Nor did he have resources to do so. His body might not age, but it still required sustenance. Another truth was, he would not suffer a minute more within that town. Too many painful memories lingered in those lands.


    He forced his aching limbs to move and shoved a stick into the ground then improvised a sundial. It showed him nine in the morning. Three hours until noon. Three hours to get to the river that flows through this wood. There he shall sit in wait for a boat that would take him to safety. If there¡¯ll be a boat. The man he paid had served him well for fifty years. If he survived the night the guards came knocking at his doors, he shall be there.


    So be it. He erased the dial and cast his life at the wheel of chance. If he makes it and the boat would wait there, he shall go on. If not, well. He served his purpose. Whatever punishment gods may toss his way he will accept it without a word of complaint.

 Floe

    Issria river north of Taria, tenth day of winter, 789 Imperial calendar.


    Odd is the wheel of fortune. One moment you live against all odds the next you come knocking on death¡¯s doors in a way you thought impossible. Such were Farrow¡¯s thoughts as he hanged onto the boat¡¯s side staring into the eyes of a man holding a knife to his throat. A man he would trust with his life a mere moment ago.


    ¡°Is it done?¡±


    The old servant spoke with cold blooded hatred as his trembling blade nicked Farrow¡¯s skin.


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    The pain, the sorrow, the release of an unimaginable weight that tortured this old man. All of it fell from his shoulders, softening his heart. But even through tears, his iron grip he held over Farrow¡¯s life did not lessen. One more splinter remained stuck in the old man¡¯s heart.


    ¡°You... ¡°


    The knife pressed harder, its blade tasting Farrow¡¯s blood. It cut his skin but stopped before it could threaten Farrow¡¯s life. As their boat carried by a rushing current passed the final river bend hidden within the monstrous forest, the old man pulled back his hand. Even though his anger demanded he finish this final monster, the one responsible for this entire tragedy, he did not. He spared the one that brought misery upon countless others.


    Fighting with his rage, the old servant released his grip and let the knife drop. He spared the last remaining monster that destroyed his world.


    Hanging over the broadside Farrow watched as the man fell on his knees and wept. Hiding his face in his palms, he sobbed like a little child.


    Forcing his frigid body onto the deck, the alchemist picked up the discarded knife and stood over the bawling man.


    ¡°I¡¯d give away my life for them if only that could bring them back. All of them. I had not slept a night without regretting what I¡¯ve done.¡±


    He put the knife back into the servant¡¯s hand and once more opened his mouth, but his words got stuck as he looked into the old man¡¯s eyes.


    Your choice not mine, he thought and went to his cabin where he stripped and slid into his bunk. While the river current brought them safely thus far, someone will have to steer the boat if they ever hope to arrive at the next town.


    Farrow closed his eyes. He did not care for any of that. He destroyed his monster. Now, let the gods sort the rest out.


    Hadure, port city on Issria river, twenty fifth day of winter, 789 Imperial calendar.


    That he lived to see the light of another day surprised him no less than the letter he found knifed to the wall above his head.


    You have become the death of many, not mine but the hands of time shall deal your punishment.


    Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    A remnant left by one he though his only ally. Not anymore. The old man brought them to safety of the nearest harbor outside of capital¡¯s influence then left without a word. What became of him afterwards, Farrow did not know and vowed for it to remain so. Rested, he found within himself enough magic to man his boat and left the port. Enchanted cargo hold brimmed with enough supplies to last two people half a year or more. Alone, he could sail down to the sea then round the cape and if he fancied, away from the human controlled territory. A choice he shall make one day. The alchemist pondered as the main sail rose and billow out in the wind.


    After he infused the boat¡¯s enchants with his mana, it kept its course roughly in the river¡¯s center and away from all shallows. Good. At this speed he¡¯ll reach the open sea in less than a month. From there... There will be time for that. Right now, he must get out of the empire before the news of their eternal empress demise spread to its borders.


    Sitting at the helm, Farrow placed his palm onto the deck and reached deep into the wood, awaking enchants placed onto his boat¡¯s hull by master shipwrights. His measly magic could not measure to that of a sea mage, but it was enough for a partial activation. His handsome little ship groaned then raised a foot or two above its old waterline, picking up at least five knots of speed.


    Exhausted with that little stunt, he laid down on the white lacquered deck and chased clouds with his eyes. Those were calm, puffy white clouds yet to him all looked like monsters chasing after him and his boat. In the end it was sleep and not some cloudy monsters that claimed him. His tired mind brought down his heavy eyelids and snuffed his consciousness.


    Somewhere on Issria river, third day of second moon of winter, 789 Imperial calendar.


    Sleep, eat, mind the boat¡¯s enchants then sleep again. Alarian¡¯s days passed by with him twisting the knob of his wooden calendar, making it click-clack as the number flipped. That was the highlight of his day.


    Every morning he flipped his calendar, ate breakfast, inspected the spell running his boat adding his magic where needed and after all that he sat at the helm and wrapped in thick, snow fox fur, he watched the river for ice.


    Upstream, near the capital, Issria seldom froze. Its current too strong to allow any ice to form. Here where the waters slowed and spread that risk grew much higher. So, Farrow sat there and kept watch. Visible only as a bundle of fur and purple eyes, he looked for any signs of forming ice. As useless activity as any he could indulge himself in. His boat could avoid smaller, floating chunks of ice just as it did with other boats he sometimes passed or even drop its anchor and stop if the obstacle proved to be too grand to avoid.


    Such display of intellect by an inanimate object. Its workings fascinated him. He understood the theory behind it, the way the magic had to be bend and entwined into a complex, branching array of choices and actions but since it required power beyond what he possessed, he never put much thought into it beyond a simple curiosity. A mistake he perhaps should rectify.


    Sudden jerk pulled him out of his thoughts as his boat sharply banked left avoiding collision then began slowing. It prompted him to run up to the bow and strain his eyes as he searched for the cause of this sudden course change. Floe. He entered a floe field.


    For the first time in a long while fear gripped him. He cannot get stuck here. Not this close to a city. Not where he could still see behind him the smoke rising above countless chimneys.


    He fetched the longest pole he had on deck and began pushing the ice away, widening his path. He became so absorbed in this task that he screamed and tossed his pole in surprise when something grabbed onto it. Had it not been tied to the deck the mystery would be lost to the frozen waters. As it was, Farrow came to his senses and reeled in his catch.


    A pale hand wrapped around the shaft in a death grip first broke the surface and soon was followed by an equally pale and shivering body. A woman¡¯s body. A naked body.


    Keeping his distance, Alarian watched as she coughed out a bucketload of water and blood when she hit the deck then curled into a shivering ball. He cast a glance at the ice floe in the water below. How long would he last in there? In this cold? Not too long.


    Whatever the hell crawled onto his deck, that was not human.

 Choice

    Somewhere on Issria river, fifth day of second moon of winter, 789 Imperial calendar.


    What kind of creature is she? Farrow pondered checking the pulse and body temperature of his unannounced guest. He also did check the chains he put on her. All without a change.


    After he forced a mixture of antidotes down her throat, her fever faded away on the same day while her heart took one more day to calm down. Some nasty concoction someone fed her.


    Her body showed no signs of any recent trauma aside from black gums and equally black nether regions. That connected with initial bloody vomit and diarrhea convinced him of poisoning but, using her chin he opened her lips and confirmed her gums were back to healthy pink, humans don¡¯t recover that fast. Most don¡¯t recover at all. Her blood showed traces of nine toxins he knew and at least five her never encountered. What monstrous body she had to survive all that?


    He double checked her collar, cuffs on her legs and arms as well as the chain looping round her waist and connecting all her restrains together. They still held. So did the chain connecting her collar to his boat¡¯s wall. She did not fumble with any of that while he left her alone or what was more probable, she had yet to regain consciousness.


    So, the question remained, what was she? Not human. That¡¯s for sure. Farrow cared for far too many people to ignore the obvious difference. Although, at the same time he lacked knowledge to guess what she might be. The late empress made sure to isolate him from world outside of her empire. Even though his workshop¡¯s doors were open for anyone, he knew empire kept certain people out of his reach. Some never made it to the capital. Sometimes the empress even confiscated books he ordered. All that combined, he had not much to work with. He knew there were others outside of the human realm but what were they? Well, he¡¯ll have to ask when she comes to.


    Satisfied with what he sensed in her pulse, Farrow tucked her hand back under her blanket and covered his unlucky guest with iron bear pelt for comfort. That left him with nothing else to do but wait. Or so he thought when razor sharp claws slashed through his cheek. Were it not for the chains that bound her movement, she would have ripped his face off. With a chunk of his skull included. Instead, all she managed were five shallow cuts on his face and a roar squashed in her throat when her collar yanked her back.


    Farrow stared at her in total surprise. Where did that attack came from? A moment ago, she was out cold and then¡­ a shiver went down his spine. If he had been but a second late, if he had moved any slower¡­ blood began dripping down his chin.


    She tried again but this time her claws met nothing but air. Claws. Long, curved and pointed claws. A moment ago, he held that arm in his palms. Her filigree fingers were nothing alike what he saw now. But the difference did not stop there. Her fangs bared in a snarl were equally threatening.


    ¡°A shape shifter¡­¡±


    So that where her insane recovery came from. Just her body¡¯s innate ability to break and mend itself. Had his voice surprised her? She froze for the briefest of moments. No there was something else behind that reaction.


    ¡°¡­and you can clearly understand me.¡±


    Her face changed from that of startled animal to that of anger in face of her own mistake. She let her enemy discover something he might use against her.


    ¡°Fascinating.¡±


    Calmed by his discovery, Farrow fetched a clean rag and after soaking it in one of his potions, he pressed it against his cheek. It should stop the bleeding in a minute or two. In the meantime, he sat out of the reach of her claws and studied his guest.


    ¡°This is the first time I came across someone of your kind. What are you?¡±


    ¡°Unhand me or die.¡±


    Not the answer he expected but the voice that declared it felt pleasant to his ears if not a bit hoarse. A feminine voice.


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    ¡°That I believe will not happen¡­¡±


    ¡°Then die.¡±


    That made him smile which he regretted at once when his wounds reopened.


    ¡°Not the best behavior towards someone who saved your life. The chain stays for my and your own safety.¡±


    ¡°Your blood I drawn. You¡¯ll die by my claws.¡±


    She licked clean her bloodied fingers in a perverted, almost sexual gesture.


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t do that if I were you.¡±


    He warned her all but too late. Ingessting his blood wasn¡¯t the smartest thing one might do. Sudden bloody cough turned her elaborate treat into fear when she studied her both hands now covered in her own blood.


    It took her body a moment to calm down but that was enough to cover the floor of his cabin in her bloody vomit. She used the top of her palm to clear the blood from her lips and asked.


    ¡°¡­What have you done to me?¡±


    Angry still but calm enough to recover some of her reasoning powers? Farrow was unsure of that but did try to reason with her.


    ¡°Pulled you out of the river. Gave you some antidotes of my own design. Cleaned up after you made a mess but if you¡¯re asking about that,¡±


    Farrow pointed at all the blood her body expunged.


    ¡°Then you should know that humans by nature don¡¯t taste too good while I believe myself entirely inedible. Well, at least those that tried so far had not succeeded. As for your body and your condition, you have my word as a healer I only did what was necessary to preserve your life and nothing else. Now, if you choose to indulge me, I¡¯d like to know what kind of trouble I took on board unless you prefer to explain that to guards at the nearest harbor.¡±


    ¡°You may start with a name and perhaps a reason why such a fine lady took a dip in a river in this weather.¡±


    His cheek stopped bleeding, so he leaned back in his chair and once more studied her body. Over the years scores of his patients attacked him. Alarian was used to the experience. Some were in shock or pain, some aimed for his life, and some suffered hallucinations so severe that it made them excessively violent. Nothing a length of solid chain couldn¡¯t resolve. Or so he thought. His guest once more proved him wrong in his assumptions.


    Twisting around on her bed, the woman came to rest on her back with her legs braced around the metal eyelet hook through which her chain anchored her to the wall. Then, as if she had done this before, she wrapped the chain around her arm and yanked.


    ¡°Please be reasonable, I really don¡¯t want to take it any further.¡±


    She ignored him again, her muscles bulging out under the enormous strain she put on her chain.


    ¡°Have it your way then.¡±


    Farrow tapped the side of his cabin, releasing the safety spell he had stored there when he bound her. A miniature version of a lightning strike erupted out the chain and burned her until pain snuffed out her consciousness.


    Somewhere on Issria river, sixth day of second moon of winter, 789 Imperial calendar.


    To think he would use this technic for anything else than restraining a patient during surgery felt bizarre if not wrong. On the other hand, the alternatives he had would be to dump her back into the river or, as he threatened her, surrender her to the imperial guards and let them sort it out. Neither felt like a palatable option. Plus, the voice of a researcher inside him scolded him it would be a shame to get rid of such an amazing specimen. It¡¯s not every day when you meet someone able to resist a paralyzing spell for an entire minute by sheer physical strength. The young alchemist mused while sticking another poison needle into her thigh.


    After swapping her bed for a wooden plank with a hole cut for her buttocks and putting a bucket beneath it, Farrow chained the alien woman to the plank then using leather straps he nailed to that board, he restrained her movements even more. Although, having in mind the fact that last time she almost pulled her chain out of the wall, he decided to add several dozens of needles dipped in soft numbing poison and jabbed them into her muscles. A practice he only used when he needed to be sure his patients won¡¯t jerk with pain while he cut them open.


    As he finished, he came to face her opened eyes that screamed murder at him.


    ¡°Good morning. I hope you have reconsidered your¡­¡±


    A ball of spit splashed against his face as she barked something at him. Were it a curse in a language of her own or sounds of pure animal hatred he did not know but it still impressed him.


    ¡°My dear,¡±


    He cleaned her lips of the spit that fell back on her face.


    ¡°While I mean you no harm, I¡¯d rather not be harmed myself. That is the only reason why you are and shall remain restrained.¡±


    As a gesture of good will, he reinforced his words by covering her erected nipples with a fresh blanket that did not stink of burned meat.


    ¡°Other than that, I am open to hearing your side of whatever story you are involved with. You have nine days until we reach the next harbor. Please do make up your mind whether you wish to tell it to me or the guards.¡±


    He finished and gently swept her golden curls out of her eyes. The woman snarled and once more tried to bite his hand.


    ¡°Nine days. Make sure you won¡¯t regret your choice.¡±


    <div>


    <div>


    <div>

 Feast

    Somewhere on Issria river, eleventh day of second moon of winter, 789 Imperial calendar.


    ¡°Have mercy. End this.¡±


    After five days of silence at times laced with violent screams, his guest gave up. Her dead eyes did not even bother to look his way. He succeeded in breaking her mind, yet he was no closer to knowing who or what his guest might me.


    ¡°Then will you speak with me?¡±


    Nothing. Not even a curse aimed at him. Not a whimper. Farrow over his immobile guest and watch tears drip out of her eyes.


    ¡°I find no pleasure in your predicament. Answer my questions and depending on what you tell me, I will release you.¡±


    For the first time since yesterday, she looked his way. Her gaze spoke one single thing before she averted her eyes. Kill me.


    ¡°I am Alarian Farrow. Until recently, Master alchemist in the service of Eternal Empress. I have seen one thousand seven hundred fifty-four winters. I ensure you, if I wished death or suffering upon you, I know of much more efficient ways to bring them. Your current predicament is but a result of your own stubbornness.¡±


    ¡°You, you cannot be him.¡±


    Life once more glittered in her eyes.


    ¡°But I am. Your own life a testament of quality of my craft. Now, are you willing to speak with me since you know who I am?¡±


    A fierce battle must have played out in her mind as the time it took for her to speak again stretched over several minutes.


    ¡°I am Varea, first before my people. If you indeed are who you claim to be, unhand me then we shall speak as equal.¡±


    As equal. That smacked him, rousing pain he though he left so many winters ago.


    ¡°Fear. You reek of fear human. You hold me like beast in a slaughterhouse and you fear? What do you fear human?¡±


    ¡°Fear? Once already I have let loose a monster upon this land. I do not seek to repeat it.¡±


    ¡°I am no monster.¡±


    She smiled, making a display of her splendid fangs.


    ¡°Perhaps you are not but I have a bad history trusting maidens with a charming smile. Although, I¡¯m open for negotiation. As much as I don¡¯t like doing so since it is a barbaric practice, we may exchange your restrains for a curse that shall guarantee my safety.¡±


    Farrow put his palm on her bare chest, just atop her heart.


    ¡°If your words convince me, I shall return you to the port of your choosing. If not¡­ leave this boat without my permission and your heart shall stop.¡±


    ¡°And I will kill you human if you once more try to touch me with your rotten hands.¡±


    She seethed through her fangs.


    ¡°Fair enough. So, do I have your permission to put a geas on you? It will fade away once we decide to go our separate ways. There will be no other offers.¡±


    ¡°¡­Yes.¡±


    Farrow let the spell he weaved sink into her chest. She gasped when it wound itself around her heart.


    ¡°I¡¯ve cut the straps that held your limbs. In an hour or so, your body should rid itself of the toxin I used to numb your muscles. Try to sleep it off if you can. When you¡¯re ready, there¡¯s clean water in that basin and some cloths that may fit you in that chest. I¡¯ll wait for you in the kitchen. Go left after you exit this cabin.¡±


    He unhooked the keys to her restraints from his belt and put them in her paralyzed hand.


    ¡°Since you so despise my handling of your body, you will have to deal with the chain with your own hands.¡±


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    Her stare told him there will be no thanks for that gesture.


    ¡°One more thing, that curse will kill you regardless of whether I¡¯m dead or alive. If you want off this boat, be sure to follow our agreement.¡±


    Somewhere on Issria river, twelfth day of second moon of winter, 789 Imperial calendar.


    Farrow meditated most of the night to speed up his recovery. That simple curse took a lot out of him. The sad reality of being a dud of a magician. His guest on the other hand did not rush to leave her quarters.


    Whether she made that a conscious choice or had her body forced her to rest, she slept through the night, and he made no attempts to disturb her. However, when the morning came, he found himself face to face with his guest. The recovery speed of her kind once more a surprise. Yesterday she could not move a muscle, today she walked without any difficulty. Her groomed hair showed she took particular care of herself before facing him.


    A set of short swords hanged by the entrance, just withing her reach. Greedily her hands closed around the nearest blade. Then she froze awaiting his reaction. Alarian used that moment to study her.


    She had combed her golden curls into a simple yet neat ponytail while her ruby red eyes darted between him and the sword she clutched in her palm. Her full, pink lips slightly parted to reveal her inhuman fangs. Other than that, her pale, almost ashen face showed not emotions.


    She chose to wear one of his cotton shirts. As tall as her frame was, it still looked more akin to a dress on her supple body. Although, that was the only thing she wore. Beneath her neck, smokey grey fur dotted with black spots covered her body.


    ¡°Does your kind drink coffee? I made some.¡±


    The man made no attempts to stop her from seizing his weapons. Rather, he cast her a curious look then turned his back to her and continued stirring the sizzling food. A perfect opening. One single cut and his head would roll.


    Yet, Varea did not move an inch from where she stood. She could not sense an ounce of fear from this man. Such a stark contrast from the day before. Was there something more to the magic that now bound her heart?


    She unsheathed the sword and aimed it at his back. It would be over in one quick thrust.


    ¡°You may keep the swords if it brings you any comfort, however, please do hold the blade inside its scabbard as this boat may turn without any prior notice. Sudden loss of footing is bad enough without a weapon drawn. You may harm someone.¡±


    Farrow extinguished the magical flame and with a hot skillet in his hands, he turned and faced his guest. She held the blade an inch off his chest.


    ¡°You¡¯re hesitating. A point for your kin. Contrary to a human you do appear to consider what kind of ramification your actions may bring.¡±


    He sidestepped her and went to a table mounted onto the kitchen wall where two plates already waited, illuminated by a reddish hue spilling inside through an open porthole set above the table.


    ¡°You¡¯ve lost a lot of blood. You must eat, drink and rest.¡±


    ¡°Are all humans this insane or have your age brought you madness?¡±


    Perhaps we are. The alchemist mused in silence, dividing meat between two plates. He took a wild guess she might lean towards the carnivorous diet.


    ¡°An observation difficult to challenge. Yes, there are plenty of people that gone loopy in one way or another. I cannot deny that but neither I will condemn my entire species. To answer you, people are like grains of sand. Similar from afar but when observed up close, each is different from another.¡±


    He finished serving their meal and returned the cast iron skillet back to the magical stove.


    ¡°Flapping that toothpick about is unnecessary. I gave you my word. I shall do you no harm as long as you choose to behave.¡±


    His tone did not fit the threat he made. She expected anger yet to her ears her his voice felt tired. Resigned.


    ¡°If coffee is not up to your taste, we also have tea, water and wine. If neither of those are to your liking, I also have some rum. Although, in your state I¡¯d discourage you from drinking any alcohol.¡±


    Alarian offered then sat himself at the table and since she made no attempt to join him, he stabbed his steak with a silver fork. The prongs sunk in deep, making the meat squirt out its juices. Some drops hit his robe, some even landed on his face.


    Varea watched the mage. Bit by bit he put chunks of fragrant meat in his mouth. Her arm holding the sword dropped to her side. To eat right in front of other. To share your pray with another. That¡­ Foolish. She should not apply the way of her people to this man.


    Pain gripped her insides. Squeezed her middle in an iron vice while thick long drool escaped the corner of her mouth. A sight so unbecoming of her lineage.


    Yet the man did not seem to care.


    Defeated, she sat across him, the sword resting on her lap. Her hunger tormented but all she could do was stare at the meat waiting before her. They have tricked her once already.


    ¡°There is no poison in your food. It¡¯s just meat, salt and herbs your body already consumed in the potions I gave you. Eat.¡±


    The mage appeared to have read her mind. He even went as far as to take a bite out of her portion to demonstrate his point. Since she made no move still, he pushed both plates towards her.


    ¡°You can eat min if you don¡¯t believe me.¡±


    To offer one¡¯s own food¡­ If only his kind could be judged by the same customs, she expected her people to follow.


    She grabbed the silver knife from the prepared cutlery and randomly chopped away a piece of meat from her plate. She stabbed it and brough to her nose. Its scent told her nothing aside how tasty this chunk could be in her mouth. Restraining herself with highest difficulty, she extended her arm offering that portion to her captor. He took and ate it.


    ¡°Satisfied?¡±


    He even showed her his empty mouth.


    The eat without fear the food offered¡­ She should not be thinking about that.


    Farrow observed his guest with growing curiosity. At long last he managed to convince her to eat but, he could not name it yet he could tell something in her changed.


    ¡°Ask your questions, human.¡±


    She spoke, savoring each bite she took.

 Truths

    Somewhere on Issria river, twelfth day of second moon of winter, 789 Imperial calendar.


    Followed by a pair of beastly eyes, Farrow fetched two crystal cups and a decanter filled with a watered down, red wine. Well, aside for its color it was water rather than wine. An error on his part as he diluted the same batch twice. His thoughts too preoccupied with his guest to spare any time for what his hands did.


    Varea sat in silence, leaning back on her bench. Her hand sliding up and down her swollen belly. She ate her portion then against her own judgment, she cleaned up the man¡¯s share. He hadn¡¯t even gone through half of it when she finished hers and stared at him over an empty plate. He just pushed his plate over to her without a word.


    Back home that would allude to a certain need and her gorging herself on his prey would mean her acceptance but¡­ her eyelids fell halfway as she watched Farrow¡¯s back.


    If she would have a tail right now its tip would twitch betraying her emotions. Cursed be that appanage with a mind of its own. It often spoke more to others than her words did. No. Not today. She forced herself a bit more into her furless self. It would be a disaster if he would hear her purr with just this measly meal and all the false signals he sent her way. Humans were not like her people, she kept reminding herself.


    Although, she pondered as she watched his muscles move under his robe on his back. He had a warrior¡¯s back.


    ¡°Well,¡±


    Farrow put to his lips one of the cups he filled and took a sip. A frown spread over his forehead as the ruby liquid went down his throat.


    ¡°As a healer in charge of your wellbeing, I find this concoction acceptable. The worst you¡¯ll suffer from it is the taste.¡±


    The woman watched him take another mouthful and as before wince at the aftertaste. How peculiar. If the thing tasted half as good as it smelled¡­


    ¡°Who has committed such a heinous crime against this wine?¡±


    She pushed away her cup. Long gone were her concerns of him trying to poison her. Some anger still lingered but what left slowly turned into hope and curiosity. Still, she refrained from drinking that slop.


    ¡°That would be me?¡±


    ¡°And you claim to be the best alchemist of the human empire? Preposterous.¡±


    ¡°I have my moments.¡±


    He took one more sip. The taste did not improve with repeated exposure. Resigned, he dunked the contest of their cups out through the porthole and refiled them with, this time, undiluted wine. A curious murmur coming from his guest told him she approved the change.


    ¡°However, why would you my dear guest need an alchemist?¡±


    She scoffed at that.


    ¡°I don¡¯t need and alchemist! I want Farrow!¡±


    Her claws raked over the table. Long, curved claws bit deep into the wood. Awestruck, Farrow stared at her hand, taking in every precious moment as he witnessed the beastly paws recede and give way to feminine fingers. Such a marvelous change. All done without an ounce of magic.


    ¡°And, since you now have him, why would that be?¡±


    The alchemist moved his eyes from her palm to her chest¡¯s center where a mage¡¯s core should be. Try as he might he got no reaction. Whatever facilitated her change had nothing to do with mana or at least not in a way known to him.


    ¡°It starts with a lack of strength and sometimes a mild cough that lasts for a day or two. A week sometimes two later, dizziness, shivers and hallucinations make the victim unresponsive. Their body begins to burn inside until it is consumed. Within a moon after initial symptoms appear the victim dies.¡±


    Varea spoke observing the man. When she finished, his jaws visibly tightened and unbeknownst to himself, he clenched his fists.


    ¡°Tell me, those victims, their gums, do they turn white?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Sogu fever¡­¡±


    Sogu was a small town where it first appeared over four hundred winters ago. It killed every one in three people of the empire.


    If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    ¡°How?! It¡¯s been dealt with no less than a hundred years ago.¡±


    Anger? Disbelief? Fear? She was unsure but the human reeked of it. Not a reaction she expected to see. Was this indeed not their doing?


    ¡°We call it the wailing as it makes its victims wail while it wrings their life from them. It came to us last winter.¡±


    ¡°Impossible. The cure, the process of its making as well as the needed herbs are all publicly available. Anyone can make it. The one boiled at home will not have the properties of one made in a proper distillery but it should be potent enough to prevent death until better help is available. Not to mention most towns should hold a surplus just in case the disease would resurface.¡±


    ¡°Human towns. It was¡­ all too late when we learned of that potion. Worse still, your cure kills my people. So many innocents lost their lives to that misunderstanding.¡±


    Pain, her words brought him visible pain. Pain and fear.


    ¡°Last winter, there were some disturbances near the border. Several villages were lost, presumably to monsters¡­¡±


    Farrow looked her straight in the eyes. They remained cold and unmoved.


    ¡°Mistakes were made. On both sides.¡±


    She spoke after a while.


    ¡°Mistakes?¡±


    Hate. Hate burned in the human eyes.¡±


    ¡°I once served a master that used similar speech. Nothing good came of it.¡±


    Varea¡¯s fur along her spine stood up. It felt as if air became heavier, more difficult to breath. Clam, calm. Do not unsheathe your claws. She repeated like a mantra in her mind. Such hostility emanated from his odd inhuman eyes.


    For the first time in so many years her own gaze skirted away in fear. A natural reaction of her people. Breaking eye contact to avoid confrontation.


    How?! This man! How did he¡­ It took her all will power to stop herself from shivering and shying away. All her senses screamed at her of her impending doom. This man will kill her. Run.


    But run she did not. Clenching her fists, she challenged herself to stare into his eyes and speak.


    ¡°You made the cure for humans. Make one that would work for my people. That is why I came to this cursed land to seek you out.¡±


    Farrow on the other hand, sat without a word. His stillness even more terrifying than an outburst of rage.


    ¡°Difficult are your words for my ears.¡±


    He spoke after a long while of silent staring contest.


    ¡°The more I hear the more I regret I pulled you out of those waters.¡±


    His hand reached into his robe to a special, padded pocket in which he held several potions for extraordinary occasions.


    ¡°Before we continue any further, I¡¯ll need a guarantee I can trust your words. Drink.¡±


    He ordered, placing a solitary vial with a golden liquid before his guest.


    ¡°Why should I? What is this?!¡±


    ¡°A truth serum of my making. It will ensure that I¡¯ll hear what I need to hear. That I can trust your words. Drink or go back into the waves.¡±


    She growled in response. Her claws fully extended.


    ¡°That much is a small price for my trust. It is based on magic not herbs. It cannot harm your body. And you will remember everything when its power fades. Drink or go back into the waves. ¡°


    Whatever insult she barked out at him it changed nothing. Farrow sat and waited. Waited until she took the vial, dried it out in one gulp and flicked the empty glass at him. The alchemist ignored this blatant display of defiance and waited. He sat watching her, waiting for her pupils to dilate.


    ¡°What is your name?¡±


    ¡°Varea an Searlis, first before my people, daughter of Accardia an Searlis and Ferrigo an Hefroth.¡±


    ¡°What are you?¡±


    ¡°I am [¡­]¡±


    She made a sound he has not heard before. One that came from an entire alien language.


    ¡°What does that mean?¡±


    ¡°[¡­], [¡­] [¡­], a person.¡±


    More odd sounds escaped her mouth. While interesting, that brought him nowhere.


    ¡°Do you know what humans call you kin?¡±


    ¡°Beasts. Kin of the forest. Others.¡±


    He had never heard of such names.


    ¡°How old are you?¡±


    ¡°This shall be my twentieth winter. ¡°


    Young. How odd. From her face he would say late twenties, early thirties. Was that too a trick of her people?


    ¡°Why did you come here?¡±


    ¡°No other choice. Our scholars were useless in combating the wailing. We had lost many. I heard of your name and came. My gifts let me blend among humans.¡±


    ¡°Gifts?¡±


    ¡°I am [¡­], [¡­] of [¡­]. For that reason, I learned the words of humans.¡±


    ¡°How did you learn?¡±


    ¡°Humans taught me. Our lands border each other.¡±


    ¡°Where are your lands?¡±


    ¡°North of a river humans call Andaana. Along its upper stream there are places where it can be crossed.¡±


    Andaana. The second longest river of the empire and its northern border. Farrow knew that name from the maps he had. It was a sister river to Issria. One that run parallel to it on the other side of the known continent. Once more he studied his guest. She had come from afar. On foot, it takes months to get here from one end to the other.


    ¡°How did you learn of me and the cure I made?¡±


    ¡°Sometimes we trade. Sometimes humans come to our lands. A human trader that often visited one of our villages got sick on one of his visits. He came back with boxes of potions. A cure he said, devised by the best alchemist in the world. It saved him, he said. Many knew him. Many trusted him. Many drank the potions. Many died in horrible, horrible pain. Your cure kills [¡­]. Makes us vomit blood. Before we learned that, we thought the trader brought us poison on purpose. We sent our own people to another human town to bring the true supplies held there. Same thing happened. People died vomiting blood. The cure banishes the disease but kills the one that took it. We tried to dilute it, slower but same result. We tried four villages that all claimed the potion to be genuine. It is harmless to humans but kills [¡­].¡±


    ¡°Those villages, what happened to them? I have not heard of an outbreak anywhere within the empire.¡±


    ¡°We killed them and burned their villages to the ground as a retaliation for their lies.¡±


    ¡°Lies? A herb helpful to a human can kill a beast of burden. Many such deaths happen every year. They had no way of knowing it will not work on your kin.¡±


    ¡°Neither did we. When your towns fall one by one to an illness more brutal than war itself, it is much easier to believe a ploy for your life awaits behind each corner. Many mistakes were made.¡±

 Will

    Somewhere on Issria river, fourteenth day of second moon of winter, 789 Imperial calendar.


    Mistakes were made. It rang inside his mind long after he sent his guest away back to her cabin. As difficult as it came to him, he found no malice in her words. Acting on false assumptions, she and her people slaughtered four villages before they realized their mistake.


    Varea gave no excuse for their actions. Her people suffered. They blamed humans and humans were punished. Poor judgment on their part.


    His hands trembled as his icy fingers tried to hold his fox fur about his frame. Gods, it felt like Sogu all over again. Someone in a village coughed and by the end of a day an angry mob slaughtered entire families. People fear what they cannot explain.


    Farrow¡¯s mind recalled the screams he every day and night. Victims burned alive. They had no way to distinguish between sick and healthy. If someone in the family got sick, they locked everyone onside their house and burned the building to the ground.


    ¡°I beg you. Please reconsider.¡±


    His guest¡¯s voice pulled him back out of his memories. She had threatened him. She bargained with him. She even tried to kidnap him and when that failed, she fell to his feet on this snow-covered deck and begged him. So many miles she came looking for a cure for her people. So many obstacles she crossed on her way.


    Somebody in the previous town he passed pretended to be him. He trapped her and tried to use for whatever experiments he pleased. For an alchemist, a body like hers was akin to a treasure-trove. A miracle she even escaped from his hold.


    ¡°Please.¡±


    She kept her forehead pressed against his feet. Her dripping tears turning to ice.


    ¡°Enough. Stop. You are asking for impossible. I made that cure with a human body in mind. I have no knowledge of your kin. I know not what is good or harmful for your people. Herbs I consider medicinal, or their combination may be nothing more than a poison to you.¡±


    ¡°Then learn! Use my body, cut my flesh and learn what you need! Test your herbs on me! If nothing else, come to my lands and speak with our scholars! Learn from them the knowledge you lack! Teach them what you know of the disease!¡±


    Why should I? The thought crossed his mind but could not exit his lips.


    Out on the horizon, blue costal line and light of the Fagora¡¯s lighthouse marked the first crossroad of his journey.


    ¡°Please.¡±


    Perhaps this was his punishment? To relive the horrors of that plague once more.


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    What if this wasn¡¯t sogu fever but something new? Something even more sinister? Sogu most often than not spared those with strong body and quick recovery. How can it affect people with such insane vitality like hers?


    What if this was something new? What if it would spread? Oh gods.


    If it indeed wasn¡¯t sogu fever but something new, the slaughter they made might have stopped its initial spread amongst humans. Nothing in that cure he devised would cause internal bleeding. Plus, the antidotes he gave her contained ten out of fifteen herbs used to distil the cure.


    It cannot be¡­


    His hands lost their grip letting the lush fox fur drop onto the ice-covered deck.


    What if his cure did not cause the bleeding? What if that was only a symptom of what was to come? Among its components, his potion contained a mixture of herbs that boosted regeneration and, as a result, the rate at which a body produced its new building blocks.


    Oh gods.


    Few knew this, but a body was in a sese build like a house with myriads of tiny little bricks. No. A house was not a proper comparison. A living body is more like a country with many districts, roads, aqueducts and its people. Tiny little things that move within every living creature. Its workers and defenders.


    Farrow still held a vivid memory of the day when one of his old friends showed him those tiny creatures living within a drop of his own blood.


    He remembered the same device showing him the nature of the enemy he fought with. The wiggly thing with its long spike that attacked the many workers of the patient¡¯s body and destroyed its living bricks.


    What if the potion he made no longer affected those sogu creatures they found in that stream? What if instead of killing those creatures, it now had an effect of strengthening them as it did with the body itself? What if it made the creatures multiply faster?


    Oh gods¡­ his cure¡­ people were told to drink it whenever¡­ each town had a supply¡­


    ¡°Oh gods¡­¡±


    Their eyes met as he came to realize the danger.


    ¡°You, were you sick? Did you ever had any contact with infected?¡±


    ¡°No. That was not allowed. Why do you ask?¡±


    Frantic, fighting with his frozen fingers, Farrow found the vial inside his robe. His cure. He always had a dose ready.


    ¡°That potion¡­¡±


    She recognized the smell and the greenish hue of the cure.


    ¡°How soon did the side effects appear after taking the cure?¡±


    ¡°Same day. Sometimes within minutes of drinking it.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s impossible. My cure was meant to be taken over several days. No less than five. The improvement appeared on average from fourth day in children and about ninth day in adults and elders. Even accounting for your kin greater regeneration, it would take at least a day for the body begin its recovery.


    ¡°Then would you explain the initial improvements?¡±


    ¡°That you cannot see a person standing behind a veil does not mean that someone cannot be there. The potion I made acts in many ways to lessen the strain on the body and reduce the pain. It was meant to calm the infected to ease in their care. The improvement you claim could never been there. The cure masked all symptoms while it strengthened the disease.¡±


    ¡°That cannot be! Unless¡­¡±


    Varea¡¯s eyes widened. A different disease. They were wrong all this time. They searched in all the wrong places.


    ¡°A simple way to test it.¡±


    Farrow handed her the vial with the cure he made.


    ¡°Drink, if what I fear is true, nothing will happen.¡±


    ¡°And what if you¡¯re wrong?¡±


    ¡°Then you may risk death while I will have a chance to study the effects of my cure on your kin and try to counter it.¡±


    ¡°Whatever the result, do you swear to help my people?¡±


    ¡°On my life, I do.¡±


    She took the vial in her hand but did not drink it.


    ¡°Human, do you have any parchments? I have much to prepare in case all this goes wrong.¡±

 Certainty

    Somewhere on Issria river, twentieth day of second moon of winter, 789 Imperial calendar.


    One, two, three, four¡­ Farrow counted with his fingers pressed against the pulsating vein in her wrist while grains of sand trickled in his compact hourglass. When the minute passed, he tucked her arm away, wary of any sudden or unnatural movements and noted the number in his journal. Same count as before. Consistent with what he observed natural resting rhythm for her body. Her breathing pace did not change as well. There were no abnormalities compared to what he measured when they gathered baseline data. For all he knew, Varea slept with a dreamless sleep induced by his potion.


    He spent three days gathering baseline data about her body while she compiled seven scrolls filled to the brim with elegant script of complicated shapes. His introductory letter, an account of her journey, orders for palace staff, request for assistance to whoever may meet him and, if he believed her, her last will in case if all this went wrong.


    So far it didn¡¯t. A result as frightening as his memories of the first wave of the disease were. He never wished death upon anyone but¡­ no. The woman must live. He will make sure of it. Right now, all he wanted was to know whether his potion or his theory were in the wrong.


    His cure, as a first step, induced deep sleep in whoever took it. Same thing happened with her. The woman faded away within minutes of drinking his potion and so far, showed no signs of the reaction she described the other victims experienced.


    Farrow run his hand along her arm, smoothing out her ruffled fur. And found himself captivated with her body. Not quite a beast. Not human either. A perfect amalgamation of both.


    As far as he could tell without cutting open her flesh, her skeletal structure mimicked that of a human with some differences, the skull and the bones of her feet and hands. Her kin had four toes on each foot and even in her human form, her hands had the ability to extend and retract their nails. As for her skull¡­ it was amazing. He had no other way to describe it. Years back he would pay a fortune in gold for a chance to experiment on such specimen.


    But this is no time nor place for such actions, he reminded himself when he found his hands busy sketching the patters of her fur in his journal. While she slept, he filled no less than fifty pages with sketches of her and her body.


    A natural perversion so common for him and those of his profession. To study every unknown encountered. Such was her body. An unknown he yearned to explore.


    A perversion he had to rein in to remain civilized. One does not cut open his date no matter how interesting she might be. He chuckled to himself recalling the words of his old master.


    Golden iris. Eyes without whites. Steel grey fur with white undercoat and black and blue markings. He annotated his drawings and watched her chest sway.


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    While to her it made no difference what kind of appearance she took, they decided to make her assume the form most common among her people. About one third feral and two thirds humanoid. Not human. Humanoid. [Banshur] was the word she used and for the lack of a better alternative she translated it as humanoid although that wasn¡¯t its exact meaning. Varea made that distinction at every given possibility. Were there any other races that walked on two legs which humans had no idea of? A topic to explore later. Right now, he had to focus on the pandemic and the way it affected her people.


    That brought him another curiosity. Not all her people had the gift to mold their body to their will. Many were born without such ability. As she explained, a talent like hers manifested in one out of a hundred individuals. The degree of control differed but those who possessed her gift could at will go back and forth between human or somewhat human appearance and its feral or hybrid counterpart.  Some, like her, could assume the complete shape of their feral. Which she demonstrated, chasing him around the deck on all fours until laughter made her collapse and roll on the deck while chittering.


    The degree of control one retained while transformed differed between people but in her case, as she explained, her feral manifested by nothing more but a desire to sleep the entire day.


    A relief, given her sizable fangs and paws that could lock around his head without much of a difficulty. Even now in this hybrid form he admired her feline smile.


    Varea did not go into the exact details regarding the feral as it had more to do with spiritual believes rather than any scientific knowledge but explained that her people could turn themselves into the form of the animal of their [asheri]. An avatar or goddess avatar depending on the translation.


    Her bare chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm. He brought his hand to her breast. No significant changed there. Her erected nipples were poking out of her fur and the breasts themselves appeared swollen. An odd reaction if any. Possibly one of the herbs interfering with her cycle. Some women complained that his cure deregulated their cycle with one case reporting complete loss of monthly bleeding. He made a note in his journal to verify that before putting a listening tube against her chest.


    Well, her heart, lungs and intestines sounded normal. Or at least he couldn¡¯t hear the sounds that would signal trouble both in humans and other animals he treated before. So far so good. Another note in his journal.


    Farrow put his hands on the sides of the woman¡¯s fluffy neck and tried to feel for the bulbus protrusions. These odd organs often swelled if his patients were sick but, if she even had such organ, he could not feel anything significant there. That left him with her mouth. Careful, he spread her lips and inspected her gums. No change there as well. Fresh, healthy pink. If she were infected or if the cure failed, these would turn either white or deep blue.


    He checked his journal, for any other observations he made yesterday. Nothing seemed out of ordinary. Well, he wasn¡¯t sure what was considered ordinary for her kin, but she appeared to be the healthiest person he ever saw.


    Completing this final check, Farrow put his patient on her side which earned him an angry swat from her tail. Her people were not meant to sleep on their backs. Speaking of sleep, she drank one whole vial of concentrated solution. This much would keep an adult man his size asleep for about five to seven days. During that time, they would feed him water mixed with honey but given her insane recovery, Farrow suspected she may wake up after no more that three days. Which was tomorrow. Although, just in case, he mixed a batch o fresh honey water.


    Putting a blanket over his guest, his mind went back to his grim thoughts.


    The cure was fine. He had no doubt of it since yesterday.


    He clenched his fists to steady his shaking hands.


    Whatever her people caught, that was not sogu fever.