The Progenitor 3 Chapter 3: Not Again!

Many researchers gathered, carrying with them thousands of mana crystals to refill the energy of the caster. Mages were always curious creatures and needed to always be experimenting to advance themselves, to learn to spells, and so on. As a group, they couldn't leave this question unanswered too long.

When the experiment was conducted it was successful in creating a living breathing being, this creature though had no mind of its own and could not learn. Countless experiments were done after all of them resulting in the same mindless creature. This sparked the belief in a soul, a part of the body that couldn't be copied that was required for the true creation of life.

This was an unsolvable riddle, because how can you measure and research something you can not detect?

Many mages went mad trying to find the answer.

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The day was quiet, a soft summer evening where one would regret not having more free time to experience it. Birds sitting in the trees let out the songs at high pitch with little care around the city since most birds of prey dared not come past the high walls. Sitting on top of the cherry blossom trees that filled the several courtyards of the n.o.bles, or the fruit trees that were scattered across the lesser districts for the nourishment of those less blessed in gold.

There was a slight chill in their air at five o'clock though that no one could explain, many older women were talking about bad omens, while their husbands fished in the small rivers that ran through the keep's grounds. This place seemed as peaceful as it could be on the outer walls, the inner walls, however, there were people in armor running around a track with a large bald man yelling at them. Training was an ever constant thing for the soldiers to keep this place as peaceful as it was.

This was the Kiliack Keep, one of the few human blockades between the Dark Forest and the fruitful lands to the south. Things had been rather quiet for the most part these days, the last outbreak of monsters being months prior. So it was big news that the general's son was ill from a snake bite while gathering supplies. An unidentified poison coursing through his veins that no one had been able to identify.

Hushed whispers said that the snake bite was a deliberate ploy by enemies of the general but no official word came to clear the issue, or prove it true. As most people are gossipers, there was much debate in the quiet outpost who usually has news of military movements every day to occupy their time. The people in this keep seemed to be ripe with rumors especially those that weren't of n.o.ble birth as they always were in the dark about the n.o.ble's ongoings.

One place in particular was filled with rumores so thick it almost stuck to the greasy food that they cooked. A bar by the name of the Hanged Man was one of the more popular places for their cooked goose. Rumors about the very establishment came up from time to time too, about how they used the lard from a full pig to cook just the breast of the goose.

The rumors weren't far off exactly, since they used the same grease day in and day out to 'enhance' the flavor. Buckets of lard just added to the mixture when the pot got too low, changing pots when floaters became too big. It wasn't the best establishment, but it was by far the most popular for their cheap beer, and flavorful food.

"It's said that the general's son fell in love with a harbor woman, only to find out she was a witch. Cursed his manhood to shrink to the size of a newt!" One man said with certainty in his voice as he looked through the bar.

"I thought witches turned people into a newt." Another drunk patron chimed in.

"I'd much rather my whole body be turned into a newt rather than my manhood!" The man stroked his beard, drops of beer dripping out of it.

"Watch what you say Garold, we both know the kid is fine. Said there's some clerical folk coming from the Castle itself to help the poor thing." The lady sat down their drinks, "Two copper each, makes the tab hit ten. No more drinks till I get at least a big copper piece."

"Do I not have a bit of credit to my name? I'll get you five big coppers tomorrow if you let me drink today." The bearded man seemed almost offended he could only get five beers.

"You're right, you do have a credit, you owe us three of those big coppers already. With your promises you'll need a silver by the end of the week." She scoffed, and served more men. Five of them in the corner had most of her attention as they always paid when they ordered unlike most of the patrons, she was trying a bit hard for a tip which came once in a Blue Moon.

The five of them had already spent two silver on food and drinks, and they always ordered more once their cup was empty. She was wary of them as any time she came to their table their conversation halted. She hoped them not to be the cursing, or bewitching type she fully b.u.t.toned her blouse just in case. Dressed up in dark robes, whispering to themselves did not give the best of impressions but her money was tight.

"How do we always end up in s.h.i.+tty places like this?" One of the robed men said, a hint of gold could be seen on his fingers. He was the one actually paying for everyone here.

"Because these types of pubs are quant, you can get a lot of information. Like did you hear the general son's pe-" The largest of the five started to speak, but under the glares of the other four he shut his mouth.

"He's our patient, we all know that his…" One of the men made a general motion, "We know he was poisoned. Not by a snake though, I suspect a centipede."

"A gu?"

The man nodded, "There's an alchemist that's probably after him, or maybe a beast tamer."

"Seems likely, maybe one of his cla.s.smates are jealous of him?" The one with the gold rings asked.

"Unlikely, his grades are.. abysmal to say the least. With only two more years till graduation I don't see him even pa.s.sing." The last one to speak he was a scarred old man, and he looked to each one. "The only thing interesting is his affinity for Creation Magic."

"It's a useless affinity." The gold ring one added.

"If he becomes a fighter his creation magic can greatly a.s.sist him." The man paused for a moment, "Plus golems are rather useful."

"Useful for those who have studied creation magic for decades maybe, until then he's about as useful as the fabled witch who can turn jollies into newts!" The big man chuckled, and went back to his food.

One of the five men seemed troubled though, his fingers picking at the food. His other hand absentmindedly played with his necklace, "If we don't cure the son, will the general blame us?"

"Of course not, he's already had ten healers come through without being able to do dog s.h.i.+t. This is just a way for the Duke to gain favors, and get in the general's good books. You know how famous his father is." The gold ringed man spoke up.

"Of course, who could forget the Blazing Glaive General?" The nervous one let out a sigh of relief.

He was a well spoken hero of his time, his control over fire being an inborn talent that was as rare as it was brilliant. When matched with his skill at wielding a Glaive like it was a part of his body, he created a torrent of death where ever he stepped. The only reason he was here in this s.h.i.+tty outpost was because during the death of the previous King he had sided with the wrong brother.

Having come up from a peasant to where he was now, he was an everyman's hero. Someone that the king could point to and say, 'If you join our army that could be you.' Who didn't want to improve their station in life? Many young men died trying to follow in the great general's footsteps, very few had the talent to step into his shoes.

It was already a blessing that he hadn't been hung when the second brother rose to the throne instead of the first. He was just too much of a hero to the people to risk the backlash of his death, so they sent him here to be forgotten. A dead martyr could be more useful than a living legend sometimes.

After the meal, and quite a few beers all five of them stood up. All of them were slightly inebriated but that could be solved at any time as they walked their way to the inner areas of the keep. Each person slowly came up with an excuse of why they couldn't heal the boy. None of these people were world famous wizards, they were just salarymen working for a few gold coins a year.

The keep's servants bowed to them as they entered before a man dressed in crimson attire came up to them. With his birdlike face he squinted at each individual before bowing, "I am the head butler of the estate, Sir Vincent Parl. How might I address the five healers that traveled so far to check on young master?"

The big one took off his hood first, pounding his chest lightly in a friendly greeting, "My name is Arturius, specializing in curing curses and promoting healthy muscle growth." His head was bald, and he even shaved off his eyebrows, in the place of his hair was a tattoo of a dragon cooling around his head. He stood tall at 77 inches tall, and his shoulders were broad like a warrior's.

The second took off his hood, giving the same greeting, "William of Westwood Village." His appearance was normal, brown hair tied up in a knot, eyes like chestnuts. He was not a n.o.ble, which was rare for a healer since they required many resources to produce. His hands gave the full story though, a blackened mark in the shape of an X.

This was the mark of the disowned, he was cast out from a n.o.ble house and could not join another unless a king were to erase the mark from their hand. His children would have a chance to become n.o.bles, but they would have to start from the bottom rungs once more. This was a punishment that could only be given if one ran from the battlefield, a deserter.

The third and fourth took off their hoods at the same time, one was a princely looking fellow with gold strings used to tie back his hair, the other a rather stern looking man with scars on his face. "My Master is Sir Lotus, of the Seven Stars. I am of no importance." The man looked reluctant to say such words, but the collar around his neck meant he was a war slave to Sir Lotus.

To have a healer as a war slave meant that the man with golden strings had the wealth of a high n.o.ble house behind him, as not many could afford the thousands of gold that was required to buy a slave of this caliber. The butler's eyes stayed on Lotis for quite some time as their family was known for their a.s.sa.s.sins, not their healers. A bit of hostility could be seen in the butler's small black eyes, but he looked away soon enough.

The last one to take off his hood was rather heavyset, he held the belly of one that filled his days with beer. His face was like that of a Shar Pei, as he spoke he smiled in such a way that made others touch their coin purse to make sure it was still there. "My name is James O'Neal." The others seemed to look away from him, and their movements always kept them an arm's length from him. It was obvious that no one liked him but his jolly smile made him seem ignorant of this fact.

All five were taken to a small grey room with a boy in his teens, his hair cut short to keep him easy to clean. That raven like hair was slicked back with oils, and his lips were damp with water being slowly fed to him. They had taken care of him well, the best alchemists rubbing oils on him every day that helped with preserving the body. Faint muscles could be seen under a white robe making him look like a fallen saint. The child was draining silvers daily, but his father didn't mind in the least.

He had been asleep for nearly a year now, but his body tensed up every few minutes for an unknown reason. This kept his body in good conditions, not letting his muscles completely erode away over this time. As the six of them stood there, they couldn't help but think of a story they had heard while young.

"Have you tried true love's kiss?" James spoke up, while eating some berries that were laid out on a table. The other four rolled their eyes, used to his behavior.

"It's best to try to heal him now right, each of us should cast our respective magics at the same time. The effects can only be stronger if we cast them together." Aurous spoke confidently, taking the staff from his back that could be confused for an oversized Bloudgen.

The butler nearly tackled the man when he raised it above his young master's head. A look of panic came and pa.s.sed quickly as white light came from the staff. The panic quickly turning to relief as he thought the man was about to beat the young master awake. Embarra.s.sed at his thoughts he coughed and turned away so he wouldn't try to interrupt any of the others.

The others followed suit, each staff was differently embroidered but the outsides didn't matter. The wood it was made out of was Alder, Apple, Ash, Beech and Birch. They were said to be the five best trees to cast healing magic from, enhancing their powers. Since a lot of a magic's power was the person's confidence in casting it many wondered if items enhanced anything at all or just created a placebo effect.

As the lights converged, even before their spells could be cast fully an angry voice broke all their concentration. The young boy that they were healing had James on the ground in a flash, "I thought I killed you, James, why must you haunt me even in death? Was poisoning me not enough?" His hands were tight around the man's thick neck, trying to strangle the surprised man.

The kid looked up for a moment, then at his body, his eyes coldly looking over each person. "I'm not dead?" It was only a moment but the kid had a sudden moment of clarity, then pain filled his mind and body.

He had exerted a body that had been in bed rest for over a year far too much with his movements, and currently 15 years of memories were now flowing into his head. Everything was unbearable so his body simply shut off, slipping into the land of sleep his body collapsed onto the ground. Considering James's large body, the fall was abrupt as it was loud when he hit the stone floor.

"E-everybody but James can complete the healing." Vincent gathered up some guards from outside. "James, you will be asked some questions."

James went from shock, to pale as he started to slowly shake while the armed men escorted him out. He couldn't explain anything, especially how the young master knew who he was without any introduction. The days ahead of him were more than likely going to be filled with pain and misery as they tried to extract any information they could from him.

He whimpered pitifully as he was dragged off defeated, he knew his life was now in the hands of the young master. He hoped that the kid would awake soon to clear his name, as he didn't remember ever poisoning someone! Tears streaked down his cheeks as he hollered out, "Let me kiss him just once, maybe it will cure him!"

There was a thud as one of the knights used the pommel of his sword to knock the lunatic out. The other knights looked at the first knight with horror as now they had to drag this man to his cell.

At that moment the keep exploded with activity, the young master had awoken! Sadly it wouldn't be until quite sometime later that his eyes would open again.