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.”