Chapter 27

There are dozens, if not hundreds, of different roles in the field of magic study and technology advancement. Among the most well-known and renowned fields of work are the Mystechnicians. Mystechnicians are essentially myst engineers and inventors. These men and women not only study and design enchantments but also are the foremost specialists in the advancement of mystech in all forms. Mystechnicians have a reputation for being what many would call insane.

Another well-known field of magical study that carries with it a degree of fame is that of the Mystgentist. These scientists study the uses of magic in all forms. Arcanists dig deep into the laws and reactions of pure magical power and how different elements interact with each other in various ways.

I’m embarrassed to say that I failed to realize the drastic change to my body other than the amputations until I had hobbled my way into the bathroom. It was six in the morning, and I had been up all night reading. I hopped my way into the bathroom linked to my bedroom for some simple business only a living creature could do. I hobbled into the tight space, wearing nothing but a pair of underwear, ready to drop onto the toilet, only turning on the light to make sure I didn’t accidentally trip over the shower curtain. The bulb in the room flashed into life with a brush of my fingers against the control plate, and I almost passed by the mirror without a second glance, but I noticed something strange.

I locked eyes with my reflection before my sight tracked up to the reflection of my brow. I stared at the change. I was dumbstruck for several long moments as I tried to figure out what in the nine hells was going on with my face. My horns, before that point, had been small. The little, pointed nubs just under my hairline had always been a painful reminder of my tainted blood. What I saw just above my eyes were not simple little nubs. Each horn had gone through an infernal growth spurt that made my jaw drop in shock.

Before, my horns were an inch in diameter and an inch and a half tall with a slight curve. The standard look from any devil in a piece of art you would find from the late Age of Hungry Iron until midway through the Age of Steel’s Grasp. The kind of art that depicted devils seducing maidens and devouring children.

The twin nightmares that burst from my brow were far worse. The diameter of each horn had at least doubled in width. These new horns curved back, parallel with the slope of my skull, before rising up in sharp tips near the rear of my dome. Standard demon horns would have been shocking enough, but this was a degree above and beyond. These horrifying protrusions from my skull were tiered. Each tier of bone was slightly smaller than the one below it, and each of them curved up into a barb at the front or top.

I had seen Darklings with horns similar to this before in visual media. Many Darkling villains had almost comically large sets of horns as if they were to display just how evil the Darklings were. While my horns weren’t so large as to drag my head down, these horns were horrible. I looked like I was going to eat someone's child and steal their money to spend on something evil. I stared at my reflection for a solid few moments before screaming. “What the Fuck!!”

Stumbling, I fell backward through the doorway to hit the floor while I gripped one of the new growths and pulled on it. Desperately, I yanked on that horn like they both were parasites draining my very soul. I refused to accept those things as part of who I was. I did not want to be a villain in the eyes of everyone I passed on the street. If the world hated me even more, I didn’t know what I would do. I couldn’t be treated even worse because of these things.

I screamed like a madman as I wrenched and yanked on the growth. The next thing I knew, a pair of hands were pinning my sole arm to the ground, restraining me. When I started kicking, my legs were pinned by much larger hands. Brutally, I screamed like someone being tortured. I thrashed and writhed as if I had just had a molten metal rod pressed against my skin.

The next thing I knew, there was a pair of hands on my cheeks, and an alien calming energy was being driven into my consciousness like a railroad spike. I struggled for a few more seconds even as I heard a familiar woman’s voice whispering to me, “Hush. Hush. It’s alright. Everything is okay. You’re okay.”

As my struggles died, I opened my eyes to find Master Navor pressing her brow against my horns, just above my own brow. When I looked up, I found Zynna holding my hand. When I looked down, I found Demierra pinning my legs.

“Horns.” was all I managed to get out before I broke down into body-wracking sobs, just like the night before.

“I know. I know.” Navor murmured to me as she raised her face from mine. “We don’t know why it happened. But I didn’t want to scare you anymore. I was hoping to talk with you about it when you were in a better place.”

“Better?!” I snapped. “I lost an arm and a foot, and now my horns have octupled in size! What in the nine hells happened to me!?” I demanded.

I heard Ferris’s voice from the doorway to my room. “I saw it happen.” He sounded scared. “They just…grew. Popped out of your head so fast the skin split when you went into that rage. I don’t know what happened.”

“What?” I asked, but even I could hear the begging in my voice.

“Like I said, we don’t know.” Navor answered. “Something’s not right with your body.”

“What?!” I asked again, panic seeping into my tone.

“Calm down, kid. Let’s get your medication in your system before we talk about this.” Navor said as she helped me to my feet… well… to my foot. I gratefully accepted the help back to my bed. With nervous hands, I pulled my safe box of medication from just beneath my bed. As I pushed open the box and prepped my dose, I was fighting back a panic about what Navor had just said. She had said that something was wrong with my body. I knew that she wasn't talking about my recent subtractions, so what was this additional error in my base-code?

My head was spinning again but for a whole other reason than poisoning this time. My life had gone through so many drastic changes in the past three years, and what felt like three dozen new developments just landed over the course of what felt like only a day or two.

“What in Pandemonium happened to me?” I muttered, trying to cling to my calm. “What is happening to me?!”

“Kid, listen to what I’m saying.” Navor began sternly. “You need to find a specialist. Probably a few specialists. This must’ve been caused by magic. So you’re going to want to find a Arcanist. One that specializes in Darklings or Negative Myst types. Preferably both.”

“Where in the nine hells am I supposed to find someone like that? Especially in the state I’m in?”

Navor stood up. “I’ll do some digging. You need to focus on getting back to fighting shape.”

It was at that point the door to my room, that had been open crack pushed just a bit wider open to reveal Kharmor and Ferris standing just on the other side. 

“Actually…” Kharmor spoke up as he stepped into the room alongside Ferris. “Iver, you remember that book I gave you?”

“A new Age of Change? I, uh, Yeah.” Those words sounded confused, even to my own ears. “I-I was reading it all night. Why?”

“Have you gotten to his section on splicing?”

“No. Again, why?” I asked, clearly confused at what my Half-Dwarf friend was getting at.

“Well, in that section, Lind reveals that he is not only an accomplished CyDoc and Mystechnician but also a Arcanist. He’s done centuries of study into the concept and applications of genetic splicing and discussed the ethics. He goes over the ideas and theory behind changing someone’s body to display physical changes, like growing scales on a Human or giving one breed of Elf traits from another breed. That was a big reason why I gave you the book after you told me about that genetic puzzle you’ve got going on.”

A voice spoke up from behind my two friends. “Move it, rot brains, before I ject you out the room.” Khar and Ferris turned back before stepping into the room to let Zynna through.

“I was just coming to take my baby-sitting shift , but what’s this I hear about a genetic puzzle?” Zynna asked.

With a grunt of effort, I pulled myself  to the edge of my bed as I explained. “I show traits from all breeds of Darkling. And I never knew my bio parents, so I neither know why I am this way nor what I should be. But while those answers would be great, first, what is this guck all over me? You said that you had to eject the poison from me so that means this is…”

“Yep.” Zynna said with a mix of disgust an amusement. “Puss. Lots and lots of dried puss.”

I gave a look of revolution and horror at the news. “You just put me in my bed, covered in puss. You didn’t even bother to hose me down like a cheap car?”

“Well… No.” Ferris said in embarrassment.

“Hey, I’ve done my quota of spunge bathing this lunatic.” Kharmor said in defense as he raise his hands in a ‘hands off’ gesture.

“So your telling me, that your going to leave this fifty-percent of a man to clean his sheets freshly after almost dying not once but at least two or three times?”

Zynna scoffed, folded her arms, and clicked her tongue as she took a defiant stance. “More like fifty percent of what might be called a boy. You don’t have enough body or hair to be a man. And if you think I’m playing nanny and doing your laundry, you’re diluted.”

“Fine.” I groused. “I’ll deal with that problem later. But first, what this Lind guy have to do with my current situation?”

As Kharmor continued his explination, he became more animated, clearly feeling like he had an idea that would work. “I was just getting there. A fair chunk of that section discusses the ethics of splicing and mutating an infant before it is born. Which I think might pertain to you. But it also talks about how you can alter someone’s myst affinities to change a Mage from one class to another. He reviews the side effects of altering their Affinity Ratio. That’s the big thing I think will help with this predicament. Some of the side effects that are fairly common in people who have had this procedure done suffer from both physical and personality changes. Between his astounding understanding of genetics and how myst can permanently alter the body, I think you should talk with him about this. You were already planning on seeing him about cybernetics because he lives in the city, right?”

“I, uh, yeah.” I answered, stunned by how I could get answers to dozens of questions I had about myself from someone I was quickly growing to idolize.

“That settles it.” Navor stated. She pointed to me. “When you are fit enough in mind and body, I want you to go see this Lind person. I will also flip the bill for some basic cybernetics for you. I just need the costs.” She pointed to Kharmor. “I want you to help him to get to this CyDoc-Arcanist person.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He answered.

“Screw it.” I said as I tried to stand. “I need answers.” I turned to Kharmor. “Is the prosthetic foot you mentioned ready?”

“Yeah. Want me to install it right now?”

“After a quick shower, but yes.” I resolutely confirmed.

“And Iver.” Navor started to regain my attention. “No more of that medication. Got it?”

I-I…Yeah.” I reluctantly answered.

“I’m sorry, what?” Navor said in passive threat.

“I mean, yes ma’am.” I hurried to correct.

I’ll skip over the mounting process of attaching the false limb. But after about an hour's worth of fitting and adjusting, I was as ready to walk the streets as I could be. After I had a moderately functional foot, I looked up where I would find this Lind guy’s shop. After I found the destination, I called Teefa to pick us up. While I waited for our ride, I read Lind’s book. The book was a momentary crutch for me, knowing that I could never use my medication again. I really did not want to think about what that meant for my future. So I escaped into A New Age of Change.

 During the ride, I continued to read and only barely gave poor Teefa the most basic interaction I could spare. I was dimly aware that the Ceangar order agent gave me her condolences about my missing limbs and her failure to get us to safety. She rambled on for a solid several minutes about the events and her role in them. But Kharmor, who rode with me, politely explained that I was studying the concepts of advanced cybernetics I wanted installed after that trip. After that, Teefa kept quiet, which I was immensely grateful for. I’m sure anyone who has tried to read a book while on public transport can relate to my situation.

I will not lie. What that book held within its pages held me so tight that I might as well have been the very ink on those pages. Molecular cybernetic muscle fibers bound together as a single entity. Rapid synaptic echo response, allowing for the limbs to act as naturally as an actual organic limb. Those were only two of the concepts that I read over the course of that trip that I was hooked on like a starving fish at the end of a reel. I dug so deep into that book that I might as well have been a fevered mole burrowing so deep into the earth that I found the molten core of Anogwin.

Lind’s shop wasn’t far from my home base, only eight blocks from the house. I hobbled from the AV without even looking up from my book, Kharmor guiding me along the way as my nose remained buried in the book so deep I could smell the ink like a drug.

I was vaguely aware of Kharmor helping me through a door into some kind of shop. My Dwarven friend let go of my arm as a smooth male voice spoke up.

“Can I help you, young men?”

Kharmor spoke on my behalf. “My friend here wants to speak with the shop owner about getting some new limbs.”

I silently gave a nod of agreement as I turned the page to start on a section about the limitations of the mortal mind regarding cybernetics because of the synaptic response rate. I had only gotten two paragraphs in when I heard the same smooth male voice speak. “Ah. I see I have a fan of my work. How are you liking my theories?”

My head snapped up to find the speaker after I registered what he had just said. What I found was a true shock. An Elf unlike anything I had ever even heard of. The Elven man who stood behind the service counter was what I would call an obvious High Elf. His ears were impressively long, reaching six and a half inches from lobe to tip. That meant he could only have been a pure-blood High Elf. His long hair was pulled back in a neat ponytail and was so white that even High Elf nobles would have to step down to grant him the highest position. That hair was so white it almost seemed to glow even in the dim light of the shop. But unlike any Elf I had ever known, this man’s skin was the deepest, darkest black. His pristine skin wasn’t the black of anyone I had ever seen. This wasn’t the dark brown bordering on black that could be found in any species with bare skin. This black was so deep I would have thought that this man was cut and shaped from the night sky and stripped of every star. I quickly found those missing stars when he smiled at me in amusement.