The taste of victory was fleeting. It was replaced by that old, familiar metallic tang: blood and poison.
Only an hour after the meal he had shared with Rico, Kaelen collapsed beneath a lean-to at the corner of a street.
He was not nauseous; he was burning.
The black veins in his right arm had bulged as if straining to burst from beneath his skin. This black network, stretching from his fingertips to his shoulder, pulsed with a rhythm that darkened Kaelen's vision with every throb.
Hey! Giant! Rico's voice sounded muffled from a distance, as if coming from underwater. What is wrong? Are you poisoned? I told that kebab seller to cook the rats properly!
Kaelen could not answer. His teeth were clenched tight. His right eye—the Eye of the Void—was opening and closing uncontrollably, turning the image of the street into a grey blur of static.
His body was rejecting the foreign energy within. He was not a vessel designed to carry Groth's power, the death of the Slime Ghoul, and the hunger of GRIEF all at once. He was a cracked cup, and now he was overflowing, shattering.
Kaelen snarled as he tore open his shirt. His chest was bruised purple. The skin over his heart was as black as charred wood.
Rico recoiled at the sight of Kaelen's chest, his eyes widening in shock.
This... this is not the plague, the boy whispered. This is an Alchemy Burn.
Kaelen reached for Rico's collar, but his strength failed him. His hand fell, trembling.
Help... he groaned. Uttering that single word was harder than swinging a sword.
Rico looked around. He was panicked, but he did not freeze. This boy knew how to manage moments of crisis.
All right, all right, hold on, Giant. I can't take you to a hospital; the Inquisition would tear you apart there. But... I know someone. A man who patches up the madmen, the mutants, and things... like you.
Rico slipped under Kaelen's arm. Though his small frame was nearly crushed under Kaelen's weight, he did not give up.
Come on, big man. You have to walk. If you pass out here, they'll melt you down for scrap by morning.
They moved from the back alleys of the Rust District into a misty, silent area Kaelen had never seen before.
This was Apothecary's Blind.
The air did not smell of rot; it held the sharp scent of ether, alcohol, and dried herbs. The buildings were sturdier, with thick glass panes in the windows instead of iron bars.
Rico hammered on the iron door of a grey stone building.
Open up! Emergency!
A small slide in the door opened. A pair of eyes appeared.
Do you have money, rat?
I do! Rico said, pulling the 25 Cogs from his pocket to show them. And the patient is in bad shape. Very bad.
The door creaked open. An assistant in a white coat stained with blood helped them drag Kaelen inside.
It was cold within. And incredibly bright.
Chemical fluids glowing inside glass tubes on the ceiling provided a sterile, white light to the room. Jars lined the walls, containing organs, eyes, and the fetuses of unidentifiable creatures floating in liquid.
They laid Kaelen on a metal stretcher. When the cold metal touched his back, the burning in his black veins intensified.
What is this?
The voice came from the depths of the room. It was calm, measured, and curious.
A man emerged from the shadows.
He was tall, wearing a spotless dark green velvet vest and a crisp white shirt. He wore brass goggles with adjustable lenses. His hands... his hands were covered in thin leather, like surgical gloves.
Alchemist Verrick.
Verrick approached the stretcher. He did not even look at Rico. His entire focus was on Kaelen.
With a gloved finger, he touched the charred mark on Kaelen's chest. Kaelen hissed in pain, reaching for GRIEF, but the assistant had already strapped his arms down.
Be still, Verrick said. His voice was not a lullaby, but a command. I am merely observing.
He adjusted the lenses on his goggles. He peered into Kaelen's right eye.
Magnificent, Verrick murmured. The pupil is completely dissolved. No iris. No sclera. A pure flow of energy connected directly to the optic nerve. You should be blind, boy. But I see... this eye is keeping you alive.
Verrick checked Kaelen's pulse, then turned to Rico.
Where did you find this, child? In the trash?
He is my partner, Rico said, puffing out his chest. And he has money. Heal him.
Verrick laughed softly. Heal him? This is not a disease, little thief. It is an architectural error.
He turned back to Kaelen.
Your body, Verrick said, as if describing a machine, is a battlefield for two opposing poles. On one side, you have your human biology; fragile, made of flesh and blood. On the other side is... that Thing. The Void. That eye and those veins are eating you from the inside. Because your body was not designed to handle this power. You are incomplete.
Kaelen ground his teeth. Help... me...
I can, Verrick said. He turned to a cabinet behind him. But this is not like putting a broken leg in a cast. This is a condition that requires constant maintenance.
From the cabinet, he pulled a silver syringe with a fine tip, filled with a sapphire-blue fluid.
This is my own concoction. The Stabilizer. It uses pure mana distilled through alchemy to suppress that savage energy of yours.
Verrick came to the side of the stretcher. A blue drop gathered at the tip of the needle.
This will not heal you, Verrick said, looking into Kaelen's eyes. It will only delay your death. And it will take away your pain.
Kaelen nodded. The pain was so intense he was ready to sell his soul to the devil.
Verrick drove the needle into Kaelen's neck, directly into the thickest black vein.
The blue fluid entered his system.
The effect was instantaneous.
It was as if a cool ocean wave had spread through his body. That scorching fire was extinguished. The grey static in his mind, those loud screams, fell silent. His muscles relaxed. The throbbing in his right eye stopped.
Kaelen took a deep, steady breath. For the first time, the world was... stable.
How do you feel? Verrick asked, setting the needle aside.
Light, Kaelen said. His voice was no longer raspy.
Good. Verrick removed his gloves. This dose will sustain you for three days. After that, your veins will darken again, your pain will return, and your eye will begin to blind you.
Rico cut in. Three days? Only three days?
This is not a cure, it is a fuel, Verrick said. He sat at his desk and began taking notes in a ledger. And this fuel is not cheap.
He counted the coins Rico had provided.
This money covers today's dose and my labor. But next time... Verrick raised his head, his grey eyes gleaming behind his goggles, ...you will need more.
Kaelen sat up. The straps had been undone. He felt strong, but he knew this strength was not his own. He was dependent on that blue fluid.
How much? Kaelen asked.
Money is not the point, Verrick said mysteriously. There is much I can learn from a rare specimen such as yourself. Perhaps you will pay me by providing certain services.
Verrick stood and walked to Kaelen's side. He placed a hand on Kaelen's shoulder with a cold sense of ownership, like a father touching a son.
I heard you are entering the tournament. Madam Vex is a gossip.
Kaelen started. This man knew everything.
If you want to survive that tournament, you need me, Kaelen. Because in that arena, you will not only fight steel. You will fight your own body. And I... I am your only mechanic.
Kaelen did not push Verrick's hand away. He could not. Because the man was right. Without that blue coolness in his veins, he was nothing.
Three days, Kaelen said.
Three days, Verrick confirmed. See you then. Specimen 0-1.
When they stepped outside, the rain had stopped. Rico took a deep breath.
I didn't like that man, the boy said. The way he looked at you... It was like he wanted to take you apart and put you in a jar.
Kaelen touched the needle mark on his neck. There was no pain. But there was fear. A new kind of fear.
He no longer just had to find the Whisper. Now, he had to return to Verrick. He had set out to break his chains and be free, but now an invisible, blue leash had been fastened around his neck.
We have no other choice, Rico, Kaelen said, slinging GRIEF across his back. For now, we play his game.
He looked up at the Silver Tower. The road had grown longer. And now, it was more expensive.