by Rosie Scott
“I've never seen you like this before,” I said. “If this is your normal personality, I wonder why it doesn't appear more often.”
“Events of my life affect my personalities,” Mirrikh replied, extracting half of a syringe of the elven blood before adding it to the dragon blood. “There has been no battle or chaos since we took Hallmar. Perhaps that is why I'm like this.”
Mirrikh was still and quiet as he eyed the mixture of blood. I waited until he seemed satisfied and moved on to ask, “What are you testing?”
“I'm double-checking the compatibility of the two bloods. I've already tested all of these recruits for it, but you can never be certain. I've seen many die during their first transformations. I try to avoid it if I can.” Mirrikh shrugged. “I took so much blood from that dragon in Olympia that it's been hell to store and transport. I have enough to play with.”
“Calder told me back in the wildlands that it takes both injections and magic to go through the first transformation.” When I hesitated, Mirrikh nodded with agreement. I went on, “Is it alteration magic?”
“Yes. Mel y prugres material del compat,” Mirrikh replied. “It translates to 'meld and evolve compatible materials.' It encourages the two types of blood to mix and evolve to resemble each other. Elven blood takes on characteristics of mammal blood and vice versa. This is why only one injection is necessary. Considering that the blood evolves and changes, the cells continue to multiply in their new state, allowing the body access to both forms through magic. This is also why shapeshifters can only choose one animal. Once the blood has changed, the process is irreversible.”
“This is fascinating,” I mused, watching Mirrikh fill up syringes with dragon blood, now done with retesting compatibility.
The scientist grinned over at me before going back to his work. “I'm glad you think so. I could talk about this for hours.”
“And he will if you let him,” Calder warned me from feet away, making both of us laugh.
“So, Mirrikh...” I trailed off, my eyes catching on the ten recruits standing in a group near the wall, waiting nervously for their moment of truth. “If you use this spell on someone who cannot transform, is it possible to use it again with a different blood type on the same person with different results? Or once that first transformation fails, will that person's blood already be affected by the spell?”
Mirrikh twisted his lips to the side. “I'm uncertain of what you're asking. If a first transformation fails that person dies. Perhaps there are more accurate ways to test the blood than I'm aware of due to modern scientific limitations, but until we find out how to test more meticulously, failure means death. If a person could somehow live after a blood mixing failure, perhaps I could find whether they could be tested again with a different type of blood.”
“I would assume they could,” I mused. “Given the language of the spell, it seeks to meld and evolve compatible materials. If a transformation fails, that means that despite all prior testing, the two blood types weren't compatible after all.”
Mirrikh nodded. “That makes sense. But there'd be no way to find out if that theory is correct unless you have an idea of how to prevent death from blood mixing failures.”
“I do have an idea, actually,” I admitted.
“Why am I not surprised?” Mirrikh pondered aloud, smiling over at me. “You should spend some time working with me, Kai. I have a feeling that between my mind and yours, we could make many discoveries together.”
“I'd love to work with you after the war when I have time,” I told him. “Calder will live in Chairel with me then. I have a job in Sera for you if you want it.”
“Truly?” Mirrikh hesitated from his work. Ten prepared syringes were on the table before him. “What kind of job?”
“The creation and experimentation of blood mixing and alchemical mixtures,” I replied. “All the things you're best at.”
Mirrikh glanced back at Calder to make sure he could overhear. “And you're not trying to hire me out from under Alastor?”
“No. You know how strong our bond is; I wouldn't do that to him,” I assured him. “Once Calder leaves the underground, he will be part of Chairel. You'd be able to continue your work under me while remaining close to him.”
“I'll have no work for you as a ship captain, Mirrikh,” Calder pointed out. “You like Kai, and you like being on the surface. I figured you might like to continue working in Chairel.”
Mirrikh nodded. “I'll accept, then, Kai. Thank you for your offer. I didn't expect it from you. I annoy pale one over there.”
Cerin spoke up, “Your sexual personality bothers me. The rest of them do not. Calling me pale one isn't doing you any favors, either.”
Mirrikh chuckled softly. “I apologize. I'll try to call you by your name. I'd offer to tame my other self for you, but I have tried and failed in the past.”
“Whether or not you tamed it, Kai rejects your constant flirtations,” Cerin replied. “So it doesn't matter either way, though I appreciate the thought.”
Mirrikh smiled at Cerin before turning back to me. “Now, I must start the injections. You said you had an idea to prevent death from blood mixing failures...is that theory one you'd like to test now?”
“Absolutely,” I replied. “I will stay out of your way. If one of them falls into seizure, I plan on using one life spell. Otherwise, I'll leave you to it.”
Mirrikh tilted his head toward me in acknowledgment. “Then you are free to follow. I plan on injecting them one by one so I can watch their progress. We'll have time to react accordingly.”
Mirrikh and I walked up to the ten recruits, who all were in a state of nervousness. First transformations were already a scary prospect, but testing with blood of a new species was even more nerve-wracking. I noticed with some intrigue that none of the recruits were Alderi. Eight of them were Vhiri, and two of them were humans from my own army. In addition, they all had physical features indicative of earth mages: sharp bone structure, brown hair, brown or green eyes, and freckled skin.
“Are all of you earth mages?” I questioned. Some of them replied verbally while others only nodded. All ten of them confirmed my suspicions.
Mirrikh pointed at the first recruit in the line-up before motioning for her to follow us. As we walked to the lone chair on the grasslands, he said, “The dragon was a metal dragon. Its element was earth.”
“I remember that, but I didn't know that affected which people could transform.”
Mirrikh nodded. “It does. Wyvern-kin have always worked the same way. You must be predisposed to the element. It's possible to transform into a wyvern that isn't your element, but then you can't use magic.”
I took all of this information in with fascination. I was thankful for Mirrikh's knowledge. As much as I'd learned about the beastmen years ago, I hadn't had the time to learn as much about the blood mixing process as I was now.
Mirrikh told the woman to strip, and then he left to grab supplies for the injection, including tourniquets from the bag Calder had brought him. As I waited, the human soldier smiled nervously at me as she undressed.
“The first time I get to be this close to my leader, and I'm getting nude,” she said, attempting to be light-hearted.
“Would it ease your embarrassment if I joined you?” I asked.
The soldier chuckled until she saw my offer was a serious one. “Oh, you don't have to do that. It's something I must get used to if I will be transforming.” She hesitated and added, “I'm terrified.”
I nodded. As she took off the last garment and sat back in the chair, I said, “I will ease your pain with magic when you are back in human form.”
“I'm worried I won't make it that far,” she admitted, her words jerking with nerves.
Mirrikh pulled a chair up to be beside the recruit. She stared forward blankly and blew terrified exhales out of her lips. Mirrikh pulled her right arm to lay on the armrest and tied the tourniquet tightly around her upper arm.
“R
elax,” he murmured, watching the crease of her inner elbow until her veins became more pronounced. The woman attempted to regulate her own breathing as Mirrikh brought the syringe full of dragon blood to her arm. The soldier's eyes were moist with fear as the needle sunk through her skin. Mirrikh slowly drained the syringe into her arm before laying his hands over her pronounced veins. Though he didn't verbalize it, I knew he was using the alteration spell to complete the blood mixing. Then, Mirrikh pulled the tourniquet off her arm and stood, pulling his chair away from the area. “Kai,” he said, alerting me to back away.
“You're leaving...?” The soldier gasped in fear, before she leaned over her own lap and held at her arm. Her heavy breaths of fear picked up their pace, gaining a laborious edge. A shuddering sob escaped her lips before a squeal of pain. She doubled over in her seat, collapsing off of it to the grass below as the chair fell backward. Hands grabbed futilely at the ground before she lifted herself up on her arms. She coughed violently, and red blood splattered over the grass.
I glanced over at Mirrikh. In a low voice, I asked, “Is it failing?”
Mirrikh shook his head, watching the woman intently. “Not yet. The first time's always the worst.”
Crack!
The woman screamed as her spine readjusted under her flesh, elongating until her pale skin broke itself open in multiple places, exposing throbbing muscle. Her voice distorted as her skull broadened, and her long brown hair fell from her scalp in clumps. Smooth skin hardened and darkened, forming glimmering bronze scales that were tiny at first. As her skeletal system grew, so did they. Mirrikh and I backed away even more as the soldier writhed over the grasses, somewhere halfway between dragon and woman and still growing.
“Holy hell, Mirrikh,” Calder murmured, coming to stand beside us. “You've done it.”
“Don't say that until she's fully dragon,” Mirrikh replied, though he was grinning with pride.
Blood and bits of broken flesh splattered the grasslands by the time a dragon stood before us. It was about half the size of the dragon it mimicked from Olympia. As powerful as shapeshifting was, no magic was strong enough to turn a single woman into a beast that dwarfed city blocks. Even so, the dragon-kin was the largest beastman I'd ever seen, for she stood about two-stories high and was much wider. All of us were in her shadow as newly reptilian eyes gazed around the grasslands as if seeing them for the first time. Then, with heavy flaps of scaled wings, she took off into the skies.
Mirrikh watched the dragon-kin fly in a circle above the plains, and he blinked rapidly before shaking with the excitable energy of a new personality. Calder noticed from beside him and slapped him on the back. “Good job, Mirrikh.” Moving his blood-red eyes to mine, he said, “We have dragons, Kai.”
“That we do,” I agreed happily.
One by one, the recruits were injected and transformed. I stayed near Mirrikh the whole time, waiting for the first sign of trouble. Years ago in Tenesea, I'd been bothered by the deaths by blood mixing, and I'd wanted to stop the process from being lethal if it failed. During my time in Eteri, I'd learned many spells I hadn't previously had access to. One of them had been useful during our campaign here, but I also hoped to use it for more practical purposes as well.
There were ten recruits, and it seemed we'd be lucky enough to have all of them go through the blood mixing successfully by the time the eighth sat in the chair. The man was Vhiri, and though he was nervous, he had calmed a bit since seeing seven of the others transform successfully. He smiled up at me as Mirrikh injected him, pulling his free hand through his long brown locks.
“I'm gonna miss this,” he said, tugging on his beautiful hair. Because of the anatomy of dragons, all the beastmen here today had permanently lost their hair.
Mirrikh and I backed up from the chair as the man prepared to transform. The Vhiri breathed evenly as he braced for the pain he knew was coming, and then he lurched forward off his chair, sprawling over the ground in a mass of shaking flesh. High-pitched squeals of pain erupted from his throat, and he fell to his side. His eyes were open but rolled back in his head. As we watched, the whites of both organs bled in splotches of growing red.
“Mirrikh,” I blurted, taking a step forward.
“Wait,” Mirrikh replied, twitching nervously beside me. He, too, watched the man intensely. It was hard to tell the difference between a successful and failed transformation when they were all traumatic.
The Vhiri coughed violently, and a spray of white foam arced through the air before fizzling in the grasses.
“Now, Kai, go,” Mirrikh pleaded.
Deplet le toxin de material. The life spell built in both palms as I hurried across the field. My heart raced in my chest, pleading for my theory to be correct. The anti-poison spell had never been used for such a purpose, but as I collapsed to the ground next to the dying man, I begged for it to work.
His blood is poisoned. They were Calder's words, said to me many years ago about the dying beastman in Tenesea. Blood itself was not a poison. But perhaps the life magic would consider incompatible blood to be a foreign toxin.
The Vhiri rattled so hard in seizure beside me that I heard his teeth clicking together. I held both hands over his body, one over the injection wound and the other over his rampaging heart. By virtue of anatomy, all blood vessels connected to the heart. If I could get the magic to spread throughout his body much like the dragon blood, perhaps I could save him.
The life magic sunk through the man's skin in wisps of white and light green. I moved my hands over his body, transferring the healing magic over as much of him as I could. One of the man's closed fists hit me during his seizure, but I did not relent, continuing to give him energy while watching him for changes. After a few seconds, his thrashing stopped. My heart dropped into my stomach. The same thing happened in Tenesea when the other man died.
Full of turmoil and disappointment, I put two fingers beneath the man's jawbone to check his pulse. It surprised me when I felt he still had one, so I sat back and simply waited, hope building in my chest. The Vhiri's skin perspired, beads of sweat glistening over light bronze.
“Kai,” Calder's saddened voice behind me gave away the fact he thought the man was already dead. “You tried.”
I said nothing, but I lifted a hand beside my face and held up one finger.
The recruit's stomach rose in a shudder with a sudden inhale. Tears fell from his eyes, and then, from thousands of pores all over his body, red blood leaked out of his epidermis before trailing down to the grass. It was as if the man's entire body was crying blood.
“What's happening?” Calder asked desperately, collapsing beside me.
I looked over at my friend, and he met my gaze. His eyes were perplexed and hopeful. “His body is rejecting internal toxins,” I replied, before pointing at the blood draining from the man's skin. “In this case, dragon blood.”
A mix of a laugh and a gasp escaped Calder's lips, and he watched as the recruit before us finally opened his eyes. The Vhiri was sick and fatigued, and his eyes were bloodshot with the pressure of his previous agony. But he was still very much alive, and by the look in his eyes, he'd never expected to take another breath.
“You did it.” Calder grabbed me into a hug, and he laughed roughly by my ear with glee. “By the gods, Kai. You actually fuckin' did it!”
I squeezed him back, smiling with overwhelming happiness. It was yet another magical discovery I could add to my accomplishments, and though I'd made plenty in my life thus far, that didn't make this one any less important.
I pulled away from Calder, finding that the Vhiri recruit watched me like I was his savior. I held a hand over his head to promote his immunity, and then I gave him excess energy to help recover from the ordeal.
“Congratulations, friend,” I told him happily, before I brushed sweaty locks of hair away from his face. “You get to keep your beautiful hair after all.”
Five
Hallmar's prison was a long, sturdy building m
ade of perfectly rectangular blocks of gray stone and surrounded by a high iron fence and guard towers. It was almost exactly in the city's center to discourage ideas of quick escapes to the outside. Though the structure only appeared to be two floors, it had a significant underground basement.
Azazel and I stopped at the front gate, and two guards walked forward. One was Vhiri while the other was a dwarf, and they both recognized me. The Vhiri looked over Azazel and asked, “Seran Renegade?”
Azazel nodded and held out his hand so that the two guards could see his ring. “Azazel Beriah.”
The guard grabbed a key ring from his belt, looking over the keys until he found the correct one. He unlocked the door for us, and as we walked closer to the prison, I commented, “Things seem quieter since I was here last.”
The dwarven guard replied, “King Cyrus ordered the low-risk prisoners of war released.”
“Already?” I questioned.
“They were well-vetted, Miss Sera,” the Vhiri guard said, before tilting his head toward his dwarven comrade. “Like he said, they were low-risk.”
“Well-vetted how?” I asked, as the Vhiri led Azazel and me toward the prison entrance. The dwarf stayed behind to watch the gate.
“Calder Cerberius sent a handful of his best illusionists to interrogate them,” the guard replied. “Trust me, if they were lying about rebellion, they would've been found out.”
I nodded. Cyrus had probably used the illusionists as a last resort, but illusion magic was helpful in such situations. I had used it myself while interrogating some Chairel prisoners of war after the Battle of Hallmar.
“I am assuming you're here to see the Chairel prisoners of war?” The guard asked, holding the large metal door open for us at the front of the prison.
“No,” I replied, stepping inside the entrance. “We'd like to visit Silas Galan.”
“Ah. Noted. I will take you to him promptly,” the guard agreed.
It was not my first time in Hallmar's dungeon, but I admired its architecture, nonetheless. The entire first floor was for prisoner check-ins and leisure for the guard force. Round wooden tables were scattered around the smooth stone floor surrounded by mismatched chairs. Vhiri and dwarven guards sat at some tables, taking breaks or waiting to start their shifts. Sconces lined the walls and oil lamps lit up surfaces with circles of orange light. Large picture windows gave views of the surrounding courtyard between the prison and its fence, allowing the guards inside to notice any potential escapees.
