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.”
Stolen novel; please report.
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.