Chapter 22 – The Grand Experiment, Part 2

Sir Kyr looked to the side, trying to see what had struck him. As his vision cleared and focused, he recognized the woman from Vyle’s camp, the one who had gone by the name of “Alys,” smugly smiling at him.

“Hello, Sir Kyr,” she said. “It’s nice to meet you again.”

“Sangue,” he said, feeling a large bruise begin to swell up around his left eye where she had hit him. “I see your father has been experimenting on you. Your appearance has changed.”

“Just one among many improvements,” she said, holding a gloved hand over her mouth as she giggled softly. “I’m stronger, faster, and tougher than you have ever been. I’m perfect.”

“That remains to be seen,” Sir Kyr said.

“Sangue, incapacitate Sir Kyr, then eliminate those obnoxious fools outside,” Aldus ordered.

She glanced at her father in surprise. “You don’t want me to kill him too? He’s an outdated experiment.”

“Sir Kyr has proven an anomaly among our creations,” Aldus said, his expression flicking back and forth between his daughter and the knight. “I wish to study him further.”

Sangue shrugged. “As you wish.” She stepped towards Sir Kyr, who swung his sword at the side of her head, hoping to catch her off guard. Moving in faster than he could, however, Sangue caught his sword in her hand, holding it firmly. “Nice knife,” she said. A metallic whine filled the cabin as she tightened her grip, and as she flexed her hand she snapped the sword into two pieces. She swung again at Sir Kyr with her other hand, but he deflected with his sword breaker.

“I just lost that blade’s twin, not three days ago,” Sir Kyr said. “I rather hope this doesn’t become a habit.”

“Was that an attempt at a joke?” Sangue asked, flicking her short blonde hair over her shoulder with a twist of her wrist. “It was as much a failure as everything else you do.”

Sir Kyr, curling his empty hand into a fist, swung at Sangue’s face, but she caught his hand with a casual, almost arrogant smile. Sir Kyr, flustered, swung his sword breaker around to strike her in the side of the neck, but the weapon simply rebounded off her skin, leaving her unharmed.

Sangue raised her eyebrow, curious. “Did you really think a mere sword could injure me? I had thought you would be more intelligent than that.” She lifted Sir Kyr by the hand she still held. His ears fell flat against the side of his head, eyes wide. “You are such a weak, pathetic little creature. I’m amazed you dare to still live. One truly wonders what Father sees in you.”

Turning suddenly, Sangue hurled Sir Kyr at the far wall of the cabin, which he crashed through, rolling and landing on the rocky floor of the valley with a groan. Sangue walked over to the resulting hole in the cabin’s wall, the smile never leaving her face, as she peered through it.

“Sangue, I told you to leave him alive!” Aldus raged, his pince-nez glasses nearly slipping off his face. “Don’t damage him more than absolutely necessary!”

“Apologies, Father,” Sangue said, a total lack of repentance evident from her casual tone of voice. She stepped daintily through the hole in the wall, leaving Aldus alone with the twins.

“We’ll have to move our laboratory,” Aldus grumbled to himself. “That child will have to learn to be more careful in the future.”

Zull, who stood unrestrained besides the mad hemomancer, made eye contact with his sister, who Aldus still had a scalpel pressed against the throat of. Zull flicked his expression to Zaphyr, then mouthed the words, “Make conversation.”

Zaphyr blinked, then, her voice dry and whispery, said, “Why?”

Aldus, caught off guard, looked down at Zaphyr. “‘Why’ what?”

“Why work for the Master? Surely in the end you will have to fight him, since you both wish to control Waed,” Zaphyr said as Zull slowly inched across the floor until he was out of Aldus’ sight. Moving as stealthily as he could, he made his way towards the tray of surgical tools.

“I have no wish to control Waed, child. I wish to improve it,” Aldus said, his expression one of annoyance as he adjusted his pince-nez once more. “The Master’s goals are inherently self-destructive. Mine are not. His reign will end in a fire of paranoia and treachery. It is inevitable for tyrants like him. Then, in the resulting power vacuum, I shall…”

“Hah!” Zull shouted, making Aldus look at him in confusion. Zull had picked up a knife from the table of tools and threw it at Aldus, at the exact moment that Zaphyr pulled out of his grasp. The knife struck Aldus squarely on his pince-nez, knocking them off his face, but leaving him uninjured.

“I should have had you both restrained,” Aldus said, sounding more annoyed than anything else. “Such a waste of my time.”

Taking Zaphyr by the hand, Zull tried to sprint towards the cabin’s open door, but felt his muscles suddenly freeze as if exhausted after a long and arduous run. He tried to push further, but they clenched and spasmed, making him stumble forward and nearly fall on his face. Zaphyr, afflicted as well, stood still, fearful that she might collapse if she took another step.

“With hemomancy, it’s childishly easy to limit the flow of blood to one’s muscles down to the slowest of trickles,” Aldus explained. “Or did you think me a forgetful old man for leaving you both unrestrained? You never had a chance to escape. That’s why I acted as I did.”

Zaphyr and Zull, standing there nearly frozen, could do nothing but wait, terrified.

Meanwhile, outside the cabin, Sangue stalked over to where Sir Kyr had fallen, while Vyle’s men watched her from a cautious distance, bows at the ready.

“If you lay a finger on him, I’ll fill you with enough arrows to stop a charging bull,” Argus Vyle warned.

“Don’t threaten me, little man,” Sangue said. “You can’t hurt me. None of you can. I’m invincible.”

“If that’s so, then quit bragging and finish the job,” Sir Kyr said. He was in too much pain to stand up, and so rested on one knee. He lay with his back against a large boulder to prop himself up as he glared defiantly up at Sangue.

Her lips drew back in a curl of disgust. “You’re right. It’s time I stop speaking and start proving my superiority.” Grabbing him by the shoulders, she picked him up, then slammed him over her knee, making him wheeze in agony. She tossed him to the ground like a discarded rag, then grinned tauntingly at Vyle.

Argus Vyle shouted to his men, who released their bowstrings in a chorus of whistling arrows, but the arrowheads shattered on her without harming her in the slightest. She met the steady gaze of Vyle, who held his crossbow at the ready, loaded. He had it aimed right at her chest. “What’s the matter? Aren’t you going to fire like your men?”

“I’d rather hold my shot until I can hit something that matters,” Argus Vyle declared.

“An intelligent decision, for once,” Sangue said, sounding impressed. “Maybe I’ll keep you alive as well. Father might be able to make something interesting out of you.”

“What are you?” Vard asked, awed.

“I am the dawn of a new era,” Sangue declared proudly. “The blueprint for a new type of human that will rule all of Waed in a glorious age to come.”

Vyle chortled at that, then said, “You know, you remind me of the Empress. Demanding, arrogant, and far too assured of your own importance. In fact, I think you may be even worse, and that’s saying something.”

Sangue’s expression turned from self-satisfied to one of cold fury in an instant. “You’ll pay for that insult by watching each and every one of your men die.” She took a step forward, then felt a hand on her leg. She looked down, amazed to see a still conscious Sir Kyr glaring up at her.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

“No one else will die today,” Sir Kyr told her, then coughed weakly. Vyle and his men started to step closer, but Sir Kyr waved for them to step back. “This is my battle. I will win it.”

“You really think you can defeat me?” she asked, the doubt evident on her face.

“If it is required of me, then I shall,” Sir Kyr told her.

Sangue hauled Sir Kyr to his feet, then punched him in the gut, making him double over as he let out a yelp of pure agony. “I’m sorry, did I break something?” she asked, smiling wickedly. “I suppose there’s only one way to check.” She struck him again in the leg, and an audible snapping was heard by all. Somehow, Sir Kyr remained standing, glaring at Sangue out of his one good eye, as the other was now swollen shut from where she had struck him earlier.

“You never seem to quit, do you?” she asked. “I’m beginning to see why Father is so fascinated with you. Tenacity is a valuable trait. Let’s see just how much pain you can take.” She drew her fist back and lashed out again. This time, however, Sir Kyr caught her wrist in his hand, holding her fast.

She frowned as she strained, trying to break free, but Sir Kyr held firm. “What’s the matter,” he asked. “Can’t stomach your own tricks being used against you?”

Her expression turned to one of first amazement, then horror as she realized that Sir Kyr had her hand pinned, and that she couldn’t force her way out of his grasp. “Impossible,” she whispered, awed. “You couldn’t be that strong.”

“Maybe not ordinarily,” Sir Kyr responded, each breath a visible effort for him, “But in our most desperate hours, we often find burning with new, invigorated strength. And right now, I am very desperate indeed.”

Standing fully upright once more, he slowly bent her wrist further and further, twisting it out of its proper shape.

“Stop that,” Sangue whimpered, trying to wrench free of his grasp and finding herself unable to do so. “Stop that!”

With a final twist, Sir Kyr broke her wrist, then let go. Sangue clutched her broken hand against her chest, her entire body trembling as she glared venomously at him. “How dare you injure me, you animal. I cannot be weaker than you! I’m perfect!”

“You’re not the goddess you think you are, Sangue,” Sir Kyr told her. “You fight for your own pride. I fight to protect others. My cause fuels my strength. Can you say the same for yours?”

With a wordless shriek of rage, she ran towards Sir Kyr, hands outstretched as if to tear him apart. Sir Kyr sidestepped, and as she charged past him, he struck her on the neck, knocking her down amongst the stones. Before she could recover, Sir Kyr hit her squarely in the back of the heat with the hilt of his sword breaker, hard enough to knock her unconscious.

“I’m going to have to ask you for a replacement sword once more,” Sir Kyr said to Argus Vyle.

“What are a couple of swords between friends?” Argus Vyle said with a shrug.

“Is she dead?” Vard asked quietly.

“Merely incapacitated,” Sir Kyr replied. “Vyle, make sure your men have her bound before she awakes. Preferably with iron chains.”

Vyle chuckled. “That I can do. Now, let’s get the twins back.”

Vyle, Vard, and a limping Sir Kyr walked over to the cabin, peering through the hole in the wall to see Aldus Phlegm within, adjusting his reacquired pince-nez on his face. The twins stood halfway between him and the door, frozen as if turned into statues. Aldus frowned slightly upon seeing the three men outside the cabin, then tsked loudly.

“It appears that I have underestimated you once again, Sir Kyr,” Aldus confessed. “For the second time, you have overpowered my associates and forced me to abandon a laboratory. The setbacks you have caused for my grand work have delayed the new era by years.”

“I don’t care about your ‘new era,’ you senile old fool,” Vard interrupted. “None of us do. Give us the twins.”

Aldus laughed. “And why should I give up the one piece of remaining bargaining power that I possess? Because of my hemomancy, neither can move. They cannot defend themselves, and they cannot run. I can do whatever I want, and that holds you at bay. Yet if I were to give them over, you would slay me instantly.”

“I won’t kill you, Aldus,” Sir Kyr said. “I still need answers from you.”

“Answers for what? How to cure yourself?” Aldus said with a bitter laugh. Seeing the truth of his question in Sir Kyr’s face, he laughed even harder. “My dear, foolish, Sir Kyr. There is no cure.”

Sir Kyr’s sword breaker slid from his hand, landing at his feet with a hollow clanging sound. “What?”

“You were created by my blood bindings, which fused the wolf flesh to what remained of your human body. Those bindings are the only thing holding that flesh together,” Aldus said, patiently explaining. “It would be quite easy for me to undo that blood binding. Indeed, any competently trained hemomancer could. But it wouldn’t matter. If I or another hemomancer did so, all that would happen is that your body would reject the parts of you that weren’t human, and you would die an agonizing death.” Aldus smiled coldly. “You will remain one of my hybrids for the rest of your days, Kyr.”

Sir Kyr threw back his head and howled mournfully, the sound echoing throughout the valley and sending chills down the spines of all present.

“I will be taking the children and Sangue with me,” Aldus said, walking over to where the twins still stood, frozen from his hemomancy. “And any attempts to stop them will result in their deaths. Observe.” Picking up his scalpel from where it had fallen, Aldus cut a sudden, jagged incision down the length of Zaphyr’s right arm, making her wince even while frozen. “A demonstration, but I shall do more if any of you raise even a finger.”

Zull mumbled something, too quiet for anyone to hear. “What was that, boy? Speak up,” Aldus said, annoyed. When he mumbled again, Aldus waved his hand and said, “There, you may now speak. Well, boy? Don’t keep me waiting.”

“Zaphyr,” Zull said. “You wanted to try Choler’s technique. Now is your chance.”

“What are you talking about?” Aldus demanded.

While she remained unmoving, a thin rivulet of blood flowed out of Zaphyr’s arm, then formed into a tiny dagger. It flew through the air as if guided by an invisible hand and struck Aldus in the face, cutting him from cheek to cheek. His focus shattered, both twins found themselves able to move again, frantically rubbing feeling back into their arms and legs as blood flow resumed as normal.

“Ah!” the hemomancer cried, clutching a hand to his bleeding mouth. “Insolent children! No hemomancer is strong enough to manipulate their blood that way!”

“And yet you saw us do just that,” Zull said. “Perhaps, like you did with Sir Kyr, you underestimated us.”

“You…you…I’ll gut you both!” Aldus shrieked, his words distorted by the hand he kept clenched over his bleeding mouth. “I’ll take your hearts and I’ll-”

The hemomancer was cut brutally short by a crossbow quarrel through the heart. He let out a little moan, then slumped over, his scalpel falling from his fingers to the floor with a soft clatter.

Vard and Sir Kyr both looked to Vyle, who calmly held his now fired crossbow out before him. “Why did you do that?” Vard demanded.

“He was scum, and deserved to die,” Vyle said. “I saw the opportunity while he was distracted, and I took that opportunity. Do you blame me?”

“No,” Sir Kyr said, and his tone was of a defeated man, too tired to care about arguing further.

“We probably should kill his daughter as well, before she wakes up,” Vyle added.

“Absolutely not,” Vard said sternly. “There are a lot of things that I will accept, but killing someone, regardless of how evil they are, in their sleep is not one of them.”

Vyle looked to Sir Kyr, but the knight was evidently disinterested in the conversation. Vyle shrugged, then said, “Very well, Vard, if you so wish, but know that I warned you.”

The blood flow returning properly to their legs once more, both Zaphyr and Zull rejoiced, wincing slightly as feeling returned and they could walk properly once more. They walked past Aldus’ fallen body, joining Sir Kyr and the others outside the cabin. “Thank goodness you came to save us,” Zaphyr said thankfully, throwing her arms around a surprised Sir Kyr as she did so.

“Thank you for the trail that you two thought to leave us,” Vard said. “Without that, I don’t know if we would have arrived in time to save you.”

“I’m sorry, Sir Kyr,” Zull said quietly. “I know you hoped that Aldus would be able to undo what he had done.”

“It is all the same, in the end,” Sir Kyr said gruffly. “I still swore that I would see you two to the end of your journey to meet the Empress. After that…,” he shrugged slightly, then winced, clutching at his chest.

“I, as well,” Vard said.

“And I,” Vyle said, to the astonishment of all present.

“What?” Zull asked, clearly seeking clarification.

“My men and I will ride with you to the end of Ar Goll Forest, as promised,” Vyle said. “After that, any men willing to join me will ride with you to the capital. The rest shall return and inform Lloyl, who will rule Ar Goll in my stead until I return.”

“You’re one of the most wanted men in Waed,” Zull said. “Aren’t you worried that you risk arrest by doing this?”

“Of course, but the look on the Empress’ face when she finds out that I helped to save her will be worth it,” Vyle said with an impish grin. “Imagine! I had the chance to let someone else bring her empire down, and I chose to help her instead. She’ll be infuriated with me. Besides, from what I’ve seen today, I think you might need our help.”

“Your help is certainly appreciated,” Vard said. “But first, Zaphyr and Sir Kyr both have wounds I think we should attend to.”

“Of course,” Vyle said, gesturing for his men, who had stood at a respectful distance all the while, to draw close and help the two of them along. “We found a perfect spot to camp, a short distance away from here. We can spend the rest of the day there, and then tomorrow continue through Ar Goll Forest. With any luck we will be out of the forest in a few days, and then it’s a straight ride through the countryside to the capital.”

“Wonderful,” Zaphyr said, breathing with relief. “I’ll be glad to get out of this forest, all these stifling trees.” As they walked along, she and Zull spotted the fallen bodies of the two hemomantic giants that Aldus had made, and she gasped in horror.

“More of Aldus’ sick experimentations,” Sir Kyr said bitterly. “More lives ruined by his quest for greatness and immortality.”

“What a fascinating application of hemomancy,” Zull said softly. “What he has done here, with these creatures, with his daughter, with you, is beyond what I had thought hemomancy was even capable of.”

Zaphyr looked at her brother uneasily. “It’s all evil, Zull. Don’t forget that. Nothing good could ever come from any part of this.”

“And yet, Sir Kyr is here,” he pointed out. “Don’t worry, Zaphyr, I have no interest in recreating Aldus’ experiments. They sicken me; I’ve never seen anything so evil and callous. But his techniques, in the hands of a better individual, could have some applications for good.”

“Don’t even think about using them, Zull,” Zaphyr warned.

“I wouldn’t,” Zull protested. His gaze lingered on the behemoths, and he added, “And yet…”