Chapter Twenty-nine

From a completed epic fantasy novel told across two time periods.

Cupela

Year 1348 (Thirty Years Prior to Present Day)

A breakthrough had occurred. Diseases, illnesses, afflictions- they were to be a thing of the past. At least that was what the latest development hinted at. Cupela had been amazed by the progress, and then unsettled by the aftermath.

The road to immortality was lengthy, with many twists. Afterall, to become immortal, one would have to be free not only from aging, but from sickness as well. It was a deadly fever which had sparked Enfildio’s intense desire to end the blight of death. Now, it appeared as though the dream of a world without illness was more than just a fantasy. The eradication of disease was still theoretical, but that did not diminish the accomplishment of Enfildio and his team. All of us were critical to this success, Cupela reminded herself for the hundredth time.

For years, Enfildio had sworn by the use of ferins for conducting research on humans. It was irresponsible and immoral to use human test subjects, he had declared. Yet ferins, as different as they appeared from humans, had a remarkably similar anatomy. The furry brown creatures were the size of rats, but with much larger ears and eyes. What made them most beneficial was not their appearance however, but their incredibly short life span. A ferin went from infant to adult in ten days, and the average ferin lived less than two months. With these creatures, one did not need to wait years to see results, but only weeks.

As ferins and humans shared an internal body structure, the animals were also capable of contracting human diseases. This had made them a scourge in the real world, and a blessing in the laboratory. Enfildio and his assistants had learned much about how to fight illnesses over the past years of diligent work. The true breakthrough though had come just one day past.

A set of ferins which had been treated for scarlet fever had survived the ordeal. The tonic given to them had not only helped them survive, but had eradicated any symptoms of the affliction. It was the first time a deadly disease had been cured, not just in their workshop, but as far as they knew, in history.

The cure was based off of close to two years of work in which the team of herbalists had slowly diminished the effects of illnesses. They had tonics now to fight the common cold, sore throats, and to help with mundane fevers. Now they could fight truly deadly illnesses. It was a cause for celebration. Or, it would have been, had the players involved been other than they were wont to be.

Ubul had discovered the condition of the ferins, being the first awake that day. He in turn had awoken Cupela, who had confirmed his findings. The others followed and the workshop had been a bustle of excitement. Then Cupela went for Enfildio. He had been awake, but evidently impervious to the effect of the noises from the larger work room. When he joined the others, he congratulated them on their work and told them to take the remainder of the day off. Everyone had been more than willing to comply with that directive, and they spent the next few chimes of the bell drinking and laughing before going off to their rooms to sleep off the effects of the day, or in the case of Sarah and Piroska, who had not imbibed, or laughed, to find isolation after being forced to interact in such an uncomfortable way with their peers.

The next day, all of the research notes on the progress of the victorious set of ferins was missing, and Enfildio had closed himself off to the world, refusing to answer the knocks at his door. The message was clear to Ubul. “He has taken our work and will attempt to advance with it alone. We are here to do labor for him, not with him.”

“He paid us for our time. Handsomely, I might add,” Cupela said. “If he wishes to work alone for some time, that is his prerogative.”

“You haven’t grown sick of defending the old man,” Hrent said, “even when he confides in the mule girl more than you?”

Cupela was surprised by how much the little man’s words had stung. “Stop acting like a petulant child, Hrent.”

To their side, Jezmavalin laughed as she leaned against a workstation, drinking still from the previous day, and looking as though she had never stopped.

“Where is she? Ubul asked. Sarah.”

“She’s still asleep,” Cupela said, turning to look at the door to Sarah’s quarters. Except, instead of seeing a closed door, she saw the young woman. Tears were beginning to run from her eyes. She turned and ran awkwardly back into her room, slamming the door behind her.

“Asshole!” Cupela yelled at Hrent.

“I don’t see why you defend her when she’s taking your place as the old man’s favorite helper. Or, should I say his errand girl. You think he cares about you at all? He abuses your naivete. You go out and run errands for him, while he spends his nights with Jezmavalin, when he wishes to, or when she’s not passed out.”

Cupela felt her cheeks flush. She looked over at Jezmavalin, but the gorgeous woman just shrugged before standing upright and heading to her room.

Glaring at Hrent, Cupela said, “You can’t handle a single criticism without lashing out. You’re no better than an infantile bully.”

“The truth hurts,” Hrent snarled.

“Is that why you’re steaming?” Ubul asked.

“Sure, defend her. She’s the only woman in here who gives you the time of day. Jez may be drunk, but at least she has the sense to leave,” Hrent said before making a show of casually stretching and walking to his room.

Cupela wanted to scream. Hrent had no way of interacting with others if he wasn’t demeaning them, yet his words had still broken through her defenses.

Why? Because they’re true? No. Enfildio is simply teaching Sarah. She knew nothing of herbalism before she came here. Enfildio has trusted me with stories he would never tell anyone else. Hrent is envious that no one spends any time with him. That’s all it is.

Ubul stepped closer to Cupela and put a hand on her shoulder. “Let’s not let Hrent divide us against each other. He’s miserable and the only relief he can find is in making others feel the same.”

Cupela nodded but did not speak. She was doing her best to limit the damage done by Hrent’s comments, but she had also noticed how close Sarah was becoming to Enfildio. Was it preposterous to believe the newcomer could replace her? Do not let that little man make you doubt your own past. That is what he wants; to sow distrust and misery. Do not allow him to win.

Ubul remained by her side. After a few minutes of silence, he spoke up softly. “Still… I can’t help but feel as though Enfildio is using us. All of us. When do you see him conducting experiments? Everything he does is done behind his closed door. It is as if he is hiding something.”

“Don’t start, Ubul. Please.”

“I’m solely thinking aloud.”

Cupela snorted.

Ubul is my only friend here, and even he fails at consolation.

“I will not get any work done today,” she finally said. “Perhaps I will rest and then read some.”

“Not a bad idea,” Ubul said. “I will do the same.”

Cupela barely turned to acknowledge him. She was suddenly extremely fatigued, as though speaking of sleep made her realize how much she needed the break from thinking. Looking around the empty workshop, she felt more alone than she could ever remember.

She did not know how long it took her to fall asleep, or if she ever did. Either way, she jolted out of bed when she heard the explosion.

The world outside of her room was a haze of ochre smoke. Cupela felt the heat of flames reach up to claw at her face. She attempted to clear a space in front of her by waving her hands, but the effort was futile, the effort only hastening the acrid smoke’s climb into her lungs, forcing her to cough until her hands were on her knees. Through the haze she could hear yelling, though it was unclear from which direction.

She had spent enough time in the workshop to find her way along the walls, the heat growing with each step, until she bumped into something. It turned out that something was someone. The hiss of the flames was clear now, the heat making her recoil, yet she knew she could not turn away from whoever had been involved in the blast. Cupela kneeled down and put her hand against the form. She pulled her hand away from the heat of the contact, but what was more disturbing was the texture of the skin she had touched. It felt similar to melted wax, and the image that conjured in her head began to make her sick.

From her side, another person came into focus through the smoke. It was Enfildio. The elderly man was coughing and waving his hands across his face. “Cupela? Are you alright?”

“I am fine. But someone is here, and not in good condition. I can’t see who it is. We need to put out the flames! Do you have your cape? Throw it down.”

Enfildio did so, and Cupela padded the black cloth around the figure on the ground. Flames danced on the nearby table as well, the heat radiating outward and burning her face. She pulled the cape off of the body and went to work using it to douse the remainder of the fire.

There were more voices now as other figures approached. Ubul. Hrent, Jezmavalin. They broke through the smoke, coughing and cursing.

“What happened?” Ubul asked.

“I’m not sure,” Cupela said. “But someone is hurt, and badly.”

“Where is Sarah?” Enfildio asked. “Is that her?”

“We need to get her out of here,” Jezmavalin said. “Outside.”

No one spoke for a moment, as they waited for the response from Enfildio. “Fine,” he finally said after longer than Cupela wished he had taken. “Delicately.”

They began gently lifting the body. Cupela had to hold her breath to prevent herself from retching. The smell was atrocious and the feel of blood and melted skin on her hands was too much to consider lucidly. They slowly made their way to the staircase, no sounds now except for coughing and heavy panting.

The smoke was thinner at the staircase. Cupela held onto one leg as they moved the body up the steps. Halfway along their ascent, it became clear who they were holding. It was not Sara. It was Piroska.

The already frail woman had been burned nearly beyond recognition were it not for the spectacles which she wore, the frames of which were now wedged into her cheeks. Cupela could not look at her without flinching away, yet she returned her gaze time and time again, hoping for a change, as if she were in a nightmare and was about to wake up to find her companion hale again.

“Put her down,” Enfildio said from behind the group. “The smoke has cleared.”

Cupela and the others obeyed, and did their best to let the burned woman down so her body was laying horizontal along a single step. Cupela looked over at the others. Jezmavalin looked dazed, possibly still inebriated. Ubul was shaking his head in disbelief, while Hrent stood motionless, looking down at Piroska, his thoughts unreadable.

“She needs medical attention,” Cupela said, stating the obvious, but being the only one willing to speak. “We need to take her to a hospital.”

“No,” came Enfildio’s voice from behind her. “The hospitals have nothing that can help her. But I know of an unguent. I will gather it and bring it back here. In the meantime, let her rest and give her pain tonics every half bell. Give her enough so that she does not wake up until I return.”

Glances were shared between the assistants, but no one challenged the master herbalist.

As Piroska rested, the others, including Sarah who had finally emerged from her room, began the process of cleaning the workshop. The flames had not expanded out past the single workstation, but the smoke had clung to multiple surfaces. Cupela had opened the door to allow air flow, but the atmosphere still made their breathing labored. They worked in silence until Cupela spoke to break the discomfort.

“She has a daughter, you know.”

“Someone—never mind,” Hrent mumbled.

“She abandoned her daughter to come here?” This from Ubul.

Cupela shrugged. “I do not know her story, only that she has a young daughter. Maybe this was her only method of gaining coin. She keeps her personal life to herself.”

“We all do,” Jezmavalin remarked. Cupela looked over at the beautiful woman, her long dark hair somehow unblemished by the smoke. What reaction are you hoping for?

“Especially Enfildio,” Ubul said, looking at Cupela.

Cupela stared at him blankly. “He doesn’t owe us anything. He pays us to do a job, and we do it. We all knew the terms of the agreement before we took it. That is enough.”

“For you,” Hrent added.

“It’s time to give Piroska more pain killer,” Cupela said, excusing herself.

I hope Enfildio returns soon. Not just for Piroska, but for my sanity as well.