It was interesting that none of the group that had snuck into the wood to see the not-tree reacted to Alexander’s presence until he stopped keeping his magical energy from radiating out into the world. Seeing the group jump in shock when he did so was a bit amusing, especially the way the Count cut off his rant with a choking, wheezing cough.
Alexander’s opening words were mild and his tone and posture fairly relaxed, but the way they all froze before slowly turning to face him was as if they were about to confront their executioner. I stayed floating at his shoulder, paying more attention to the way the Count’s agitated energy was interacting with the injured child than whatever the man was saying.
The boy was fortunate to be unconscious because the disjointed flow of magical energy probably would have been even worse if he was conscious enough to so much as move wrong, never mind go into a panic. It was an interesting example of what local magic users were capable of, as well as the differences that cropped up between what different universes called ‘souls’.
Judging by this case, there were probably actual necromancers, undead, and lich-type beings around in addition to malevolent spirits that did the possession shtick.
Something that Alexander said seemed to be a revelation to the two younger people standing on either side of the Count, and a significant one at that judging by the way they stepped away. The slowly dawning rage on the woman’s face, as the Count failed to win back their favor, was accompanied by her reaching for the rapier hanging at her side.
The new round of shouting between the trio left the servants looking increasingly agitated and uncertain, while Alexander’s expression grew even more unimpressed.
“If the Count gets any more agitated, he’ll lose control of whatever technique he’s using to keep the boy stable,” I said, keeping the volume low and the sound waves directed at Alexander.
“In your opinion, is the child salvageable?” the man asked me equally quietly as the argument went on.
“I’m not sure what you mean by ‘salvageable’,” I replied, “But I think that it’s possible to… combine the souls into a functional whole. I’m not sure about how mentally stable the resulting individual would be, however. Few people take identity crises well.”
“There are priests that specialize in offering counsel on identity issues,” Alexander said, “But more importantly in this case, would the resulting individual be able to make use of his unique meridians?”
Huh, so that’s what they called those spiritual veins here, at least in English.
“Most likely,” I answered, “though someone would have to repair them first.” Now it remained to be seen whether that point was going to play in favor of or against the child.
“Wonderful,” Alexander muttered dryly and drummed his fingers against the pommel of his sword. He seemed to ponder things for a few long moments before speaking again. “I hate to ask this while you’re in the middle of your project, but would you heal the child?”
“I’m not sure if I can,” I answered, hoping my tone came across as apologetic. For all that energy manipulation came easily to me now, I had never messed with another soul before, and starting on a person in as dire a situation as this child didn’t sit right with me. “Besides, surely you have local experts in such arts?”
“Our local experts already declared this beyond their capabilities to fix,” Alexander informed me, “and the immortal sages don’t get involved in our lowly mortal matters.”
“What about divine intervention?” I asked because at this point I was pretty sure this world had to have deities running about in the background.
“Count Durante tried asking for it,” Alexander answered with a put-upon sigh as he gestured at the not-tree, “but it’s not something that materializes on demand, let alone for fixing self-created problems.”
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
“You know,” I said, “this is sounding less and less like something I should interfere with.” Also, the more I heard, the more this Count Durante was looking like a complete dick.
“Does that mean that you’ll help?” he pressed.
“Yes,” I agreed, trying not to grumble because it looked like he’d caught on to my weakness on this topic. “Though I hope you’ll be able to keep this bunch from running their mouths about what I’m about to do.” It wouldn’t do to be known for being able to do something that the locals considered to be in the realm of immortals and gods.
“Oh, I’m going to execute the Count,” Alexander reassured, “and I think secrecy contracts will suffice for the others.”
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“So those are magical contracts, huh,” I said as I watched five people sign the roll of heavy paper one by one. The way their magical energy twisted and latched onto their brains and meridians was certainly interesting.
“Yes, their magic will turn against them if they try to blab about you or your capabilities,” Alexander said after sending the scroll back into his storage item.
“I suppose it’s my turn to make good on my side of the bargain,” I mused and then expanded my projected form back into something human-sized.
I ignored the reactions of the peanut gallery as I extended tendrils of energy that lightly wrapped around the prone form of the unconscious teenager laid out on the grass. Disconnecting the child from the older man and taking over the weave of magical energy holding the soul together had been simple enough, but now came the tricky part.
Likening the procedure to trying to correct a sloppy mad scientist’s attempt at Frankenstein’s monster was probably an apt description. Though hopefully not too suitable, because I hoped that the resulting person would be relatively sane and functional.
To that end, I was extra careful with the parts containing memories and personality and made sure that the physical brain was undamaged. Since I hadn’t practiced translating any of my knowledge of mind magic, I didn’t delve any deeper and turned my attention to patching up the cracks and lesions in the child’s meridians instead.
After that, I made adjustments to the anchors between the soul, meridians, and body. A partial refill of the magical energy reserves followed though I did make sure that the boy would remain asleep for a good while yet. Hopefully, that would give time for the changes to his soul to settle a little.
“I’m done,” I announced as I pulled the tendrils of energy away from the child and drifted back. “I hope those priests you mentioned are good at mind healing,” I added as came to a stop next to Alexander.
“They are,” he replied as he peered at the sleeping child, “Is there anything to watch out for with the boy?”
“Maybe give him a few dozen days to let the changes settle, then watch out for issues with his meridians,” I answered, “Otherwise, I recommend consulting your local experts. Because, to reiterate, I am not a certified medical professional.”
“Could have fooled me,” Alexander returned, amused. Then his expression turned more serious, “Once again, thank you. I’ll make sure this lot will properly repay you for this favor.”
“Sounds like they’re in trouble,” I said, not sure if I ought to accept that repayment.
That only got an ominous chuckle out of the man, which made the family trio and their servants twitch nervously.
In the end, Alexander led the very cowed group out of the wood after they voiced some tentative expressions of gratitude. The gray-haired Count ended up in bulky metal manacles with the woman taking up the role of carrying the sleeping child.
__________________________________________________________________________
Things returned to being quiet and uneventful in the next few days.
The guards recovered from their drug-fueled nap and got an earful from a superior that briefly stopped by. The group of uninvited visitors went from six people to five, with the life sign of Count Durante being snuffed out during some kind of meeting with Alexander and a bunch of other people. The rest of them stayed put in the castle, with routine visitors I guessed might be the mind healers.
The body I was working on grew more complete with each day. In the meantime, I worked on translating my knowledge of how to program neural tissue into practical spells so that I could pre-install some basic habits into the body.
I had stuck to borrowing the bare minimum of the knowledge stored in Helen’s body while I’d been piloting it, mostly because I didn’t want to absorb any of her identity if I delved deeper, and the poor coordination had been irritating. I didn’t want to train a new body to walk, talk, or control its bowels when I had other options.
Sure, I melted the growing brain some dozen times and had to regrow damaged nerves in the rest of the body, but at least I finally got to put the painstakingly gathered knowledge of how to design and grow neural architecture to use.
And while I was at it, I messed around with the body’s gene expression to make sure that it didn’t come out looking like the late Helen’s twin. Her hair had been pink (the technicolor kind) and wavy, but a recent enough ancestor had passed on genes for a red dark enough to approach black. Another ancestor had passed on genes for brown eyes, albeit on the lighter side for the color.
It was ironic that I recalled having wished to look exotic back in my original life, but was now more drawn to things that resembled who I’d been. Dark straight hair, brown slanted eyes, pale skin with a slightly yellow undertone, a lean body with few curves, and a distinctly East Asian cast to the facial features. The end result still looked wrong, too pretty in a way that everyone I’d seen in this world so far seemed to be, but far better than a stranger’s borrowed face.
I distracted myself with programming the basic life skills into the body in lieu of obsessing over its appearance, trying to recreate something that I only half-remembered.