[Mkguild] Healing Wounds in Arabarb (38 of ?)

[C. Matthias]

Yay, Lindsey wakes up!  Happy Sunday everyone!

Healing Wounds in Arabarb
By Charles Matthias


Lindsey blinked open his eyes and breathed quietly for a long time. 
The intermittent gusts of warm air brushed past him, and the long 
stretches of nothing but the chill of stone against his soft flesh 
inured him. He both wished for the dream to return and was grateful 
that it had come and gone. He blinked, but no tears came to his eyes. 
His wrists were sore, as well as his back and legs, but that pain was 
a whisper that he could not hear.

"Oh Eli," he said, his voice raspy but real, "watch over me and my 
family. Protect us and deliver us from our enemies. I trust in you." 
He tilted his head to draw the yew, his lips curling with something 
he could not describe. Lindsey felt calm.

Behind him he heard booted feet approaching. A load groaning 
announced the opening of the iron portal to Calephas's laboratory. 
The booted feet entered, followed by a faith, occasional clicking 
noise. Calephas and Weaker. Lindsey strained to hear what they were 
doing, but neither spoke at all. There was a faint tinkling of glass 
as of someone stirring tea, but nothing else for several minutes.

Lindsey wondered if it was actually dawn. It didn't feel as if he'd 
slept very long at any point of the night. He was sore and tired and 
not just from being shackled and cold. Could Calephas have just woken 
in the middle of the night to inspect his potions? There was nothing 
to do but wait.

Eventually, the tinkling stopped and he heard Calephas moving back 
and forth. There were other faint sounds of metal on metal and metal 
on glass, but nothing he could discern. Lindsey offered another 
silent prayer while he waited.

A few minutes more passed before the booted steps came toward the 
wall behind him and he heard the latch click. The stone turned 
beneath him and he pulled his legs close to his chest as a blinding 
light beat at his eyes through the crack in the wall. He closed his 
eyes and turned his head this way and that as the torch fire seared his vision.

"Did you sleep well, little boy?" Calephas asked in a tone bereft of 
compassion. "I'd say not. Weaker."

While Lindsey was still trying to hide his eyes, he felt the furred 
hand of the tiger grab him about the chin and press at the corners of 
his mouth. Lindsey tried to keep his jaws shut, but the tiger's 
strength was greater. The pain pushed his jaw down, and into his 
mouth was shoved a long tube. He blinked and gagged, seeing the rim 
of the funnel blocking the light. A moment later, he could vaguely 
make out Calephas's outline bending over him.

And then something foul and thick poured out the end of the funnel 
and into his throat. He spasmed and rattled his chains. "Swallow or 
you'll drown," came the baron's unsympathetic advice. Lindsey fought 
a few seconds more before his throat worked against him. He swallowed 
the mixture gulp after gulp, cringing at the bitter flavor, though 
calming as it warmed him from within. His stomach churned at the 
sudden invasion but he felt no nausea.

Eventually, after a minute of gulping and swallowing the liquid which 
at times had the consistency of warm honey and others curdled milk, 
the flow fell to a trickle and he could breathe again. Lindsey took 
in a long breath, trying to use his nose so as not to brush that 
bitter taste across his tongue again. But even as Calephas stomped 
back toward his table, Weaker kept the funnel pressed in his mouth. 
Was there more?

The answer came a moment later when Calephas began pouring the 
contents of a small flask down the funnel. This had the clear taste 
of cheap wine mixed with a strange bitter flavor that he'd never 
tasted before. Lindsey ingested this also without choice.

This second drink went more smoothly and was over after only a few 
seconds. Calephas walked back to his worktable and said, "You can 
take the funnel out now."

Weaker let go of Lindsey's head and stepped back several paces, the 
funnel, dripping with a purple mucus, was clutched lightly in his 
paws. Slitted golden eyes watched Lindsey obediently. Lindsey gagged 
and blinked several more times as his eyes finished adjusting to the lamplight.

Calephas was mixing yet another potion, this one a vibrant almost 
cherry red in hue. He poured a few drops into a small mixing bowl, 
the same he'd used to collect Lindsey's blood. The gray mixture was 
still there, and as the two met, they bubbled in a quick froth that 
seemed to glow a moment before fading. Calephas swirled the mixture 
together until he was left with a dull red fluid that looked exactly 
like blood.

"Well," he said with a broad smile. He lifted his new potion in one 
hand as he turned to face Lindsey. "This should make my blood as 
strong as if I had been born from a dragon as well. I have you to 
thank for that." He tilted back the bottle and drank.

Lindsey grimaced and rubbed his tongue against the roof of his mouth. 
Apart from a definite warmth, he felt nothing from the potion yet. It 
seemed neither to slacken his hunger nor his thirst. His eyes rove 
from the baron to the tiger and in a sudden clarity, recognized him. 
He chided himself for not having done so before now. Calephas had as 
much as suggested it when he'd called him a murderer.

"You're Wicked." The tiger blinked and looked up. "You're Wicked 
Potter! You aren't weak at all! Others were your prey. Calephas is 
going to kill you when he has what he wants."

While the tiger stared dumbfounded, Calephas strode over and punched 
Lindsey in the chest. He gasped and and coughed, all breath knocked 
from him. Calephas glared at the tiger and said, "Keep him from 
speaking. I have no interest in his words."

The tiger mutely obeyed, pressing his paw beneath Lindsey's chin and 
forcing his mouth shut. Weaker looked at him once with those beastly 
eyes and then turned away to watch Calephas and await further orders.

"You may be hoping that somebody will come to your rescue." Calephas 
swirled his vial of blood back and forth as he spoke in a nonchalant 
way. "That will not be happening. Last night while you slept, my men 
located your pathetic friends in what they call a resistance. It 
seems they'd been hiding in the old mill. We've flushed them out. 
Many of them chose to flee down the Arabas rather than stay and 
fight. My soldiers are mobilized and ready for them. You can expect 
no help from them."

Calephas set the vial down and turned his back on Lindsey for a 
moment. "The potion will begin to change you fairly quickly, but it 
will be a few hours before we notice the effects. Until then," he 
turned back around with a rag and linen cloth in hand, "we have to wait."

Lindsey struggled and kicked his legs, but he couldn't get out of 
Weaker's grip. The baron smiled, reveling in the power he held over 
the boy. At a nod from his head, Weaker let go and Calephas tried to 
shove the rag into the boy's mouth. But Lindsey kept his teeth 
clenched tightly as he twisted his head from side to side.

In a dark growl, Calephas said, "Don't waste my time, boy." He 
elbowed Lindsey in the chest, which was enough to make him wince and 
gasp. And once his mouth opened, in went the rag and around his head 
went the linen cloth. The taste was dry and bland and the linens dug 
into his scalp and the corners of his lips as the baron drew them 
taut. Lindsey's nose swelled with each breath. A sullen, throbbing 
pain began to pulse at the back of his mind.

Calephas and Weaker backed away from the gagged child. Only the baron 
smiled. He leaned against his workbench for a moment before gesturing 
to a small wooden chest. "Bring that." Weaker bent over, long tail 
flicking across the floor, and carried the chest to Calephas's side. 
Within Lindsey saw a trio of rather expensive and finely crafted 
bottles. The glass had been stylized to suggest a serpent's head at 
the top of each.

He lifted one of them out and ran his fingers across the intricate 
surface with a look of pure pleasure. His blues eyes slid from the 
glass to Lindsey and he set the bottle back in the chest. "What are 
these for, you wonder. I have been saving them for a very special 
day. Once I know that my potion works, I will pour the rest of the 
batch into these. If I am to become a dragon, one of the finest of 
all creatures, I may as well drink from the finest of decanters, should I not?"

He gestured to the tiger and Weaker set the chest on the worktable 
before backing away and lowering his head. Calephas stroked his 
fingers down the three bottles. "Because of your size, you only 
needed the one potion. But I need a much larger dose to affect the 
transformation."

Lindsey distinctly remembered drinking two different potions and 
wondered silently what that meant. He did not look away from his 
enemies. He was not going to let them frighten him again. The 
throbbing started to make his eyes hurt.

"You are doubtlessly wondering why I gave you two different potions." 
Calephas said with deliberate malice. "The first was to transform you 
into a dragon. As a dragon you will be stronger and carry all of 
their advantages. I am not a fool. The second was common wine with 
just enough Arsenic to kill you as a boy but not as a dragon. 
Consider it a test on how long it takes you to change."

Lindsey took a deep breath and wished he could vomit, but with the 
gag he'd only drown himself if he tried.

"Dragons have a stronger tolerance for Arsenic and your body will 
naturally remove the poison after a time. But, it will cause you 
severe headaches, confusion, dizziness, and even disorientation. Oh, 
and diarrhea. Which means," Calephas set one hand on the wooden 
hammer and smiles, "Once we know for sure, you will either be dead, 
or you will be very easy to kill."

Lindsey slowed his breathing and stared without moving. He would not 
be afraid. He had hope. Even in the face of this grinning murderer he had hope.



----------

May He bless you and keep you in His grace and love,

Charles Matthias


!DSPAM:4dcfcc6181331459720162!