Thus Saith The Alchemist

Still. Not a sound, the faint smell of alpine; almost like a men's perfume, but faded. Does that mean...?

Everything felt heavy, and for better or for worse, I focused as hard as I could to just open my eyes-

Nothing. I let out a tired breath as the sensation of my throat returned, my body like hidden artifacts as I attempted to reach for limbs that I yet had no feeling of. For the worst, I very well couldn't have those limbs anymore, but I calmed myself.

I'm alive.

I can feel the soft brush of air against my throat, the soft pressure of my tongue against my teeth, the gentle seal between my top and bottom lip. Even with my mind in a strained, weak state, my thoughts were active; where am I? How am I alive? Perhaps most prominently was a crushing fear that, somehow, I was back exactly where I started. When I opened my eyes, would I see my familiar, hellish room at the Estettes? But those thoughts were the only ones which could stand- the rest were like flimsy attempts which crashed back into indecipherable waters of consciousness.

Agony prodded at my very soul at the thought of it, and the rich, degusting urge for death mounted my mind while my heart hypocritically rejoiced. No- it wasn't agony- it was hope. And it was the most painful notion I had ever clung to in my entire life.

Please. Something in me prayed. Please say I'm free.

"You're very strong." The angelic words jerked my mind alert. Older, aged- masculine. "I hope you won't come to hate me when you wake up."

Their voice reminded me of a grandfather- soft, almost downtrodden. Come to hate you? The warmth of my own spit murmured that it wasn't possible, and suddenly I knew why my mother had always hounded me on using that four letter word.

At the soft sounds of rustling, relief relaxed my difficult attempt to take control of anything at once. Only after hearing those gentle words could I feel how tired and fatigued I was- my body and mind. Whoever I was with, I made the rewarding assumption that I was hidden from the Estettes and Boran, and simply knowing that let me sink back to a restful, consuming rest.

The second time waking up, I could finally feel most everything, even if it felt numb or weak. With timid deliberation, I sat up despite the protests which rang across the crevices of my muscles and sinews; my bones ringing like bells as I pushed my back against the headboard, my breath worked up from such a simple action. Barely awake, I became aware of the stiff bandaging around my fingers and forearms. Wandering a timid finger pad towards my face, it brushed across my chapped lips and traced the bandage which tightly covered my eyes, a slight moistness seeping through the tightly woven cotton. Was I crying?

The stab... had something else happened too? My sore arm fell across my lap, my fingers still weakly wandering to feel the bandages which circled around my torso. I froze as soft footsteps slowly grew louder, the floor creaking with small whines until they paused.

"Ah, you're awake."

That voice- antiquated, husky yet firm- the words briefly touching deep tones while never devouring the soft timbre of his words. I opened my mouth to respond but nothing came out- no vibrating responded in my throat; just the pitiful gust of a breath which tripped off my tongue.

"I have... some things to explain to you."

A tense panic held my spine as I had the sudden wish to see his face, to see the look which resided in his eyes. Am I... mute? And my eyes; my hand flew back to the stiff bandages, my imagination running wild with what had happened after my near death. Just moving, my skin felt as though it were being devoured by flames, and for a moment I wondered if I was being burned alive. Did... a fire break out at the theater? Did Boran do more damage to me somehow, or was it someone else entirely?

Suddenly remembering that my savior was at my side, I told myself to take a deep breath and listen to what he had to say. Unable to respond, all I could do was offer a nod which set my head mildly dizzy.

"You are currently at my house. You are in my son's old bedroom. You probably remember that you were stabbed. I was the only person sitting in the audience. My name is Lord Fomlé." At the brief pause, I nodded again, the fabric of the bandages rubbing against my skin.

"I am a retired alchemist." He paused once more, as if trying to gauge my reaction before pressing on.

"The reason you are alive is because I fed you a potion. It activates any dormant 'supernatural' genes to take over the damaged and dying human systems, hybridizing your Nuclein. Non-human genes are much weaker, and are easily over-taken."

Alchemist. Supernatural. My mind blanked briefly. I didn't believe any of it were true- those were supposed to reside in fairytales or in medieval times. Alchemist- wasn't that someone who tried to turn lead into gold? Was this person like me? Someone who told fantastical, beautiful lies to make themselves feel better? But, I brushed all those thoughts aside. As much as the prideful part of me wanted to call him crazy or demented, it didn't change the fact that I was alive, and that any normal treatment would have been met with my death. Doubts brushed upon my brow, but the haunting memory of my chilling body was the proof that I had been on the edge of hell, waiting to be claimed by the demons of the past.

Inhaling, my palm could feel air rushing down my throat, and the warmth in my own veins as my heart was chanting its steady tune. All that really mattered to me was the present.

I rose my finger to the bandages across my eyes, tapping them gently- a question.

"You are bandaged because when such genes come to the front, the body undergoes changes; skin texture and color may change, hair can fall out and come back curly or not at all. Your body is..." The pause set a string which dripped down my chest and pressed my stomach into a harbor for the large ship of terror to set sail. I turned my head towards the voice, a request: keep going.

"You're body holds exceptionally strong genes, like a second complete body. I, personally, have not come across something like this, but... This is reality right now. Due to this, your body is going to go through many changes; perhaps your entire body. It will be painful. I can't tell you how long it will take to heal, or which senses you will retrieve. The case of your genes and body is unknown to me. That is the risk of this course of action. I hope you don't resent me for making such a choice without your consent."

I was grateful for the slow meter of his speak, allowing me to drink in the words. Though I still didn't entirely believe the talk of alchemists or supernatural, I swallowed them as shallow terms for now. All I could register for now was that I was still breathing. Alive and away from them.

"Cahhh.." The sigh felt like an avalanche rolling from my shoulders, conflicted. This old man saved me, while knowing nothing about me. He brought me into his home, and bandaged me up... Would he do that, I wonder, if he knew the horrible things I've done?

"Though it sounds bizarre, I swear I am telling you the truth-"

Though I felt childish and awkward for it, I lifted my hand outward, the air empty against my palm. After a few moments, I felt the echo of an aged hand- soft and wrinkled. With a tired breath, all I could muster was a soft squeeze and a smile. I'm grateful and don't hate you. Thank you.

Though I felt selfish for it, I was glad to be alive. I was glad to be alive, and I was already desperately wishing to get rid of the past. Neither he nor Vince knew my real last name... So long as my family doesn't search for me, he wouldn't hand me over to them, would he? Not after hearing my confession under the stage, and what would have been my last words upon my death? Deciding to play innocent, the decision to leech off his kindness came on me like a warm breeze.

This... could be my chance to escape.