Chapter 08 (part 2/2) - Soul Damage

  “Lily… don’t be ridiculous. It’s pointless. Even if they let you use such potions, he wouldn’t survive long enough for them to take effect.”

  “It doesn’t matter… I’ll pay for them! You can put another bracelet on me if you want, but take him to the infirmary!”

  Lily shouted desperately, ordering the nearby husks to fetch healers, who were already on their way, drawn by the screams. The cries grew louder as they placed him on a stretcher. As they moved through the corridors, several floors of the tower woke. Vincent did not stop screaming for a moment, and they could only quiet him with a silence spell that contained the sound without easing the pain.

  Meridional atrophy caused by arterial contact was not an uncommon phenomenon; it happened with some frequency among low-level resurrected who sought rapid advancement. What was unusual was the length of his agony. When his screams and pleas stretched into minutes, a number of scholars judged the case unique enough to rise at midnight. Vincent was not taken to the recovery chambers or the operating rooms reserved for high-rank mages and resurrected. He was moved to a common infirmary; no one expected him to survive until dawn.

  “Put him on the stretcher and bring me morphine vials to calm his tremors.”

  The healer ordered as soon as they arrived.

  “You cannot put him to sleep! It will kill him!”

  “Calm down. I will only inject his muscles to prevent convulsions; I will relax his body.”

  Thaddeus, the healer, assured her. He knew it was a serious case; the sedatives were more to pacify Lily than to cure Vincent.

  “I don’t know how this could be possible… he shouldn’t have the knowledge to guide the energy by himself. Someone else must have-”

  She stopped mid-sentence, remembering that she herself had imparted some of the knowledge to enable it. Even so, something so risky should not be possible. Convalescent and shaken, Lily looked at Vin again and, for the first time, considered that the man inhabiting that body might possess abilities beyond her understanding.

  “I’ll begin the diagnosis… please, remain calm, Magister. There is not much that can be done.”

  Lily nodded and took a step back. Thaddeus took Vincent’s hand; he squealed as the healer checked his flow.

  “It’s remarkable that he’s able to keep his spirit intact… he’s preventing his flow from contacting the most torn meridians. Truly a case worthy of study… we’ll learn more during the autopsy.”

  “What do you mean? Don’t kill him yet! He’s still fighting!”

  “You’re right, I apologize…”

  The healer looked embarrassed; his remark had been thoughtless, but the diagnosis seemed clear: death was looming.

  “Don’t apologize! Bring something to treat him: a grade-three meridian restorer! What are you waiting for?”

  Lily was desperate. Vincent had been gagged so he wouldn’t bite his tongue, but the pain showed no sign of easing, and there was no indication the others would move to save him.

  “Magister… you are training as a healer, aren’t you? It’s obvious that-”

  “I don’t care, I’ll pay for it. Bring it!”

  “Be reasonable, please. You know it’s a waste-”

  “Just give her the potion.”

  Heidegger, the extractor, intervened, drawn by the commotion. His mutations had removed his need for sleep, so he was more alert than the others present.

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  “Since when do we concern ourselves with measuring the consequences of other people’s acts? If she wants to give years of her life to the tower’s service, who are we to stop her? Here, take it, girl.”

  The extractor opened a nearby cabinet and took the potion. His pale, skeletal hands extended it toward Lily. She knew Heidegger had ulterior motives, that he was only waiting for an opportunity to probe her mind, but she took the vial anyway.

  “We can’t administer it internally. If we disrupt his meridians it could be fatal. He will have to drink it.”

  Thaddeus added. Lily nodded; the nurses removed the gag, though they tied him firmly to the stretcher.

  “Vincent, calm down, please… you have to drink this.”

  “Ugh…”

  As Lily poured the potion into his mouth, Vincent closed his lips tightly and bit his tongue.

  “Ah! No! Please… drink.”

  “Keep pouring it. Let it mix with his blood.”

  The extractor stepped in, sliding a metal spatula between the young man’s teeth. Blood flowed thick and bright, threatening to choke him, but Lily acted without hesitation, following his instructions. She knew that even if Heidegger planned to dissect him later, for now he was at least trying to save his life.

  After emptying the potion, Lily pinched Vincent’s nose and mouth shut until he swallowed the mixture of potion and blood. She then quickly healed the cut on his tongue with magic.

  “Mmmmmm!”

  Once the restorative entered through the wound, it took effect immediately. Like a bucket of water on red-hot iron, the meridians sparked as the leaks began to seal across his body.

  “You have to hold on, Vin. I know it hurts, but-”

  She couldn’t bring herself to say more. She couldn’t promise everything would be fine, nor that he would endure such torment for hours. The treatment was neither instantaneous nor singular; he would have to take another dose every fifteen minutes. The grade-three restorative potion cauterized meridional leaks violently; it was used on battlefields and in experiments to study high-level techniques. It had never been applied on such a scale.

  Every minute deserved to be documented for later study. A flock of scholars had gathered around the stretcher, split into two factions: those who already had scalpels ready to dissect Vincent the moment he died, and those who wanted to keep him alive. The second group proved useful to Lily, as they were experts capable of assisting in preserving the specimen. It wasn’t just the pain and the immense focus required to sustain his flow; it was also the battle to keep his sanity through such agony.

  There were multiple cardiorespiratory failures during the process: veins bursting beneath the skin, bitten tongues, high fevers, and other afflictions treated by the scholars, who needed Vincent alive for his posthumous study. Lily was grateful for their help; she couldn’t have managed alone. Still, she had to intervene several times to prevent unnecessary procedures, she wouldn’t allow them to experiment freely with his flow.

  “If you let me assist, I’m certain I can guide the spiritual flow myself.”

  Suggested an elderly man, known for his research on body exchange magic. If not for the warnings of his peers, Lily might have allowed it… and the man would have tried to replace Vincent’s flow with his own, seizing control of his body.

  “Just leave already… he needs silence.”

  Lily requested, trying to sound as polite as possible.

  Hours of suffering had passed, and the sun was already peeking through the window. Vincent no longer screamed; or at least, he was able to endure the pain enough not to beg for death. The medicine had taken effect: the leaks were sealed, though the nerve pain still reverberated through every fiber of his body.

  It wasn’t until his condition began to stabilize that the scholars finally started to disperse, leaving the room almost empty.

  “I also asked them to bring this. It’ll help with the pain. Here, take it carefully.”

  Lily uncorked a small vial filled with a pink liquid, but Vincent turned his face away.

  “Why?”

  “Don’t be afraid, it’s a body anesthetic. It won’t make you sleep, but it’ll ease the pain. It’s really good… and it even tastes nice.”

  “That’s not what I asked… w-why are you doing all this for me? And… why do you have two bracelets now? Is that… a sign of debt?”

  Vincent asked, noticing the second golden bracelet around Lily’s wrist. Unlike her other accessories, this one was different, too narrow to slip off by hand.

  “Oh, this… yes, you’re very observant.”

  The ominous bracelet wasn’t something he had missed before, but he had always been too preoccupied with other matters to ask about debts. Now, however, he understood what it meant. Lily had taken on debt for him… and he had no idea what price she would have to pay.

  Servitude bracelets were usually simple and plain in design; Lily's, solid and polished, tended to remain calm. But now both hers and Vincent's pulsed with a shared vascular rhythm. The debt demanded to be repaid.

  “Lily…”

  Seeing the worry in his eyes, she lowered her gaze and hid the bracelets under her sleeve.

  “Don’t worry about that now. Just… take the medicine, please.”

  Vincent complied reluctantly. He wanted answers, and it frustrated him to owe so much to someone. But the pain was still unbearable.

  “Thank you… I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you for all this.”

  Lily smiled faintly, first to herself, then at him, with a sweetness that barely hid her exhaustion.

  “You might not remember… but you’ve already done more than enough for me.”