Spring. The snow had long melted, and the flowers were in full bloom once again. The sound of a sword being whipped rang out in repeat, every other second. In light and cool clothing, he trained his downward swing, sweat drenching his forehead and arms, the dirt beneath him noticeably moist from what had dripped down. Erik was in visible pain, yet where any other child would have whimpered and given up, he did not. He continued, gritting his teeth, breathing heavily in suffering. From onlookers, he would seem like a child, doing nothing more than swinging a short sword repeatedly, but those of keen eyes would see the discipline and effort that set him apart from the norm.
A carriage rode down the path toward the estate. It was soon to arrive to the manor.
Erik's guardian, Scholar Godfrey, had returned to teach his ward for the year.
"Nomay, the scholar is here for Young Master Erik." a maid quickly informed Nomay, who had been in the middle of fixing a tray of food and drinks. Godfrey was in the parlor when Nomay went to welcome him.
"Welcome, Scholar Godfrey. Young Master Erik is outside by the stables."
"Mm, yes," he shortly responded before turning to the nearby butler in telling, "Make sure everything is brought to my room carefully, I have very fragile equipment in my luggage."
"Yes, Scholar." The butler answered, turning to see workers struggling to lift large trunks from off the carriage.
Nomay and Godfrey walked to meet Erik, with her attempting to explain all that had happened in the passing winter. "I do wish to inform you, Scholar Godfrey, that we had a death during the beginning of winter. It was a terrible one, and Erik has chosen to pick up a swordsmanship."
"Swordsmanship?!" Godfrey stopped in his tracks.
"Uhm, y-yes, Scholar."
Godfrey scoffed. "Yes, well, I suppose it is to be expected, and it is not as though swordsmanship is not without elegance. Has he been keeping up with his studies, still?"
"Yes, Scholar. He had, indeed. He reads often, even at the table. He refuses to do much of anything else; other than practicing and studying."
"Well, good, good."
"We are expecting to be rather busy in the coming weeks. For the young master's birthday, we have invited his peers again this year, and we expect quite a few to show up. Following that with be other celebrations, even the upcoming coronation."
Godfrey laughed, as though mocking what she'd said. "Ah, yes. The coronation of that retarded prince."
Nomay gasped. "I... It, it would not be proper to say such a thing about the future king."
"Please. He is truly a fool, chaste is his only virtue. Otherwise, he is an deceitful coward. I fear the kingdom will be in ruin in his hands, had it not have been if not for the reagent, Barran Rose."
Nomay held her lips shut, refusing to speak any more on the matter.
They arrived to where Erik was, stopping at the ledge to see Erik still training down near the willow tree. "Young master!" Nomay called out to him. "Scholar Godfrey is here."
At the sight of his teacher, Erik relaxed with a thrust of his sword into the ground. He walked over to them, the scent of sweat bring a raise of Godfrey's fingers to his nose. Nomay offered him a towel.
"Dear lord, child, are you planning to draft into the guard?"
"No," Erik answered, wiping away his sweat.
"It was a jest, child, a jest. Well, I suppose it is a, healthy, hobby." Godfrey said in turning, momenting the three to return inside. It was in doing so that he began, "I must inform you that I will not be here longer than a month. As I find it, my instruction could be done with a paper and quill, as you are more than studious by your lonesome. You will still remain my ward until the day you come of age, but I have much work that I would otherwise like to focus on back home. You are my most prized disciple."
"I am your only disciple."
"Mmm, yes. Regardless, you are most genius, Erik. You learn like the lungs breath oxygen. You are young, but so long as you remain studying from the books I leave you, you will be able to pass the exam to be titled scholar, someday. I have high hopes for you."
"Can you teach me anything about swordsmanship?" Erik asked, bringing Godfrey's steps to a null, as his expression turned to him, horrified and aghast.
Slowly, his face crumpled. He relaxed and leered gloomily. "Of course. The history of swords, great philosophers who understood the necessity of weaponry. My interest is not of weapons, however. That, you should ask thou father."
"All of the textbooks you provide me, are they not from the Scholar's Guild?"
"They are. Books such as what I lend you, are lend to me by the guild. They are prized items, as are the hundreds of others the guild has obtained in its lifetime and guarded, in that same lifetime."
"Would I be able to request any book?"
Godfrey laughed mockingly. "Yes, but not by thou's own accord, but as my ward, I may offer you books, that I, request personally, as only a certified Scholar and member of the guild has access to the library."
"I want books on the makings of weapons and armor, as well as magical knowledge."
Godfrey clicked his tongue. His upper lip twitched and his teeth bared. He turned swiftly and straight toward the manor. "I take it my mathematical, literature, and historical prowess simply is not enough to curb the curiosity of a child." he muttered in speech, just barely between the lines of being unintelligible and loud enough for them to make out. "We will begin our lesson on the architectural marvels of great palaces and ships tomorrow. I will be resting in my bedchambers for the noon."
Godfrey had brought a plethora of books, each one covered with fine and hard leather as to protect their pages, with each one of them inscribed with the world's most valuable resource; that being knowledge. After having washed, changed clothing, and having had dinner, Erik made his way to the library where they conducted their studies, finding one of five chests full of these treasures. Each one of was placed accordingly and evenly in a slot, each one heavy to the fingertips. The first he pulled out was titled The Chemistry of Early Potions. It was an interesting subject unlike all that Erik had learned prior under Godfrey's tutelage, but a subject that he had mentioned in passing. It was considered to be advanced, but Erik would be able to recognize the respect that his guardian had for him, for if he brought this subject matter, then Godfrey would most certainly had believed Erik was ready for it.
Erik took the book with him, sitting down on a cushioned seat, setting the book on the table, and turning on the lamp, adjusting its flames to the perfect brightness. Opening the book to the first page, he began.
Indeed, each page was a treasure trove of knowledge, with the author's findings, inner thoughts, and detailed explanations to their experiments and actions. From the vials used for each liquid and specified temperature, to the ingredients and their whereabouts; such as the introduction to a creature of great regenerative ability, the troll. It was an animalistic species with intelligence comparable to a dog. It was smart enough to use weapons and hold fear, but barbaric in aggression. The first record of their encountered troll was a frost troll in the north-western land of Tel'vane. It had taken the lives of fifteen men before it was ultimately subdued, subjected to paralytic drugs, and taken for its blood. It was vaguely known that the troll had incredible healing capabilities, as every wound, no matter how deep it was, was able to clot and repair itself within minutes. It was recorded that even a thrust to the heart with a five width blade of steel, was only able to down the creature for eight recorded minutes of rest, before it was able to stand up once again. Man was not capable of such a feat.
The troll blood when consumed by its lonesome, brought about diarrhea and abdominal pain. Several subjects were given cuts to their arms. The wounds did not heal when the blood was digested. When the blood was applied directly to the arms, the area became infected and red, with blisters appearing after a timed amount of twenty-eight minutes.
The thought was that there would be a means to use the natural regenerative properties of trolls to infuse that ability into a potion, at which an individual would be able to take on said properties for a limited amount of time. This thought derived from the known historical recipes of witches, most notably, the witches of the White Forest Coven. Their such potions were magically infused, and our such means of production will be instead, alchemically induced.
His interest began to boil over, with him reading more and more, faster and thus flipping the pages until he was thousands of words in. He learned of their progress and findings, their failures and thoughts, until eventually, he came to the end of their first success. The intermediate health potion.
We determined that the regenerative quality of troll blood is not contained within its total volume, but within the lighter serum that separates from the heavier corpuscles after rest. When the blood is left untreated, coagulation entraps this active fraction and renders it unusable. To prevent this, I immediately combine freshly drawn blood with a measured saline solution to slow clotting without destroying its vitality. The mixture is left in a tall vessel until it settles into distinct layers. The lower mass contains dense red matter and impurities, while the upper layer consists of a thinner, faintly luminous serum. It is this serum that holds the regenerative property. I decant the serum carefully and pass it through successive filtrations of fine linen and prepared charcoal to remove irritants responsible for prior inflammation in test subjects. The purified fraction is then diluted with rectified spirits infused with comfrey and yarrow to moderate its potency. Undiluted, it overwhelms the body and produces violent fever. Properly reduced, it stimulates accelerated clotting and tissue repair without corruption. For storage, the final preparation must be placed in glass vials filled entirely and sealed at once. If left partially filled, the remaining air within the vessel diminishes its strength over time. When kept tightly stoppered and cool, the draught retains its efficacy for several months and may be administered in small measure to promote rapid healing of wounds. The final product, a potion capable of healing wounds in minutes. Safe to consume, it is able to heal inner injuries the body would have healed anyway, given time. As for outer wounds, such as cuts, even deep ones, the tissue and muscle fibers regenerated rapidly, with greater wounds recovering in only hours on average.
"Young master, it is time for bed." Nomay would poke her head in, bringing with her the warm scent of fresh bread.
A night's rest would practically be forced, with Erik being quick to return to reading the very next morning. He would read about ingredients discovered and used in the making of potions from that very same book. Upon finishing it, he would pick up another, this time, a book called The Hunter's Texts. This would be about different species, from wild animals to vicious monsters. It explained the anatomy of a common boar, how to hunt, skin, and even which parts of it were edible, to a monster called an orc, humanoid, intelligent enough to speak and form tribes, yet vicious and cruel.
Male orcs are large, strong, and clever. They know how to craft and use weapons, as well as weave clothing and armor from the hides of animals. They are protective of their women and children. They hunt in groups and have a keen sense of hearing and smell. Their hair is strong and thick. Some I have encountered have had green skin, others grey, blue, brown or even more like that of red. Their teeth are thicker, with bigger jaws and tusks to gnaw bone. They are tribalistic and dangerously territorial. Attack at a range and when unseen. The use of poison is not recommended, as they have a strong resistance. Some have been known to barter and trade.
Wolves, foxes, owls, hawks, deer, horses, drakes, whales, kobolds, goblins, giant spiders, harpies, treants, naga, lamias, and it was there that Erik's erratic reading came to a halt. The book he was reading was an encyclopedia of living creatures recorded and dissected, and it upon reaching the one titled lamia, where his eyes lay upon the illustration of a woman with the body of a snake, that his fingers ever so slightly crumpled the corner of the page.
Lamias, dangerous monsters with the lower body of a serpent, and the upper body of a woman.
Erik's eyes widened as he gazed upon the illustration of a lamia.
They are isolative, hunting for any food they can find to survive and are rarely seen. They live just about anywhere; swamps, caves, forests, mountains, even in the desert.
That night he felt as though he were being watched, if not followed came back to him.
They adapt easily, are incredibly quick and stealthy, with the strength to strangle a man without room for escape. When they reach maturity, they look to breed. Finding the strongest and healthiest man of any compatible species it comes across, it rapes them, taking their seed before it eats them.
Erik's mind instantly went back to that night. The images of the monster coiled around the stable hand's corpse.
Men have gone missing in the dead of night, only to found in a nearby forest at a later date. Venomous, they posses retractable fangs that can deliver a strong paralytic. They are natural predators void of any emotion or intelligence despite their cunning nature.
That bodily form was unmistakable from memory. The description, the appearance. It was without a doubt, a lamia that he had encountered.
When injured or cornered, it will even attempt to use its feminine form to seduce me.
Erik shut the book. His gaze, already set to the window.