The searing in Adrien's back begged at him as Friar Fu meticulously cleaned the lacerations. When the little friar finished, he set the rag in the bowl and took the small corked bottle he had placed on the bedside dresser.
"Is this going to hurt too?" Adrien's voice pinched at the thought. He wasn't sure he could take any more pain this day. Friar Fu laughed lightly and shook his head.
"No, this one is meant to soothe your wounds," The old man uncorked the bottle and a peculiar smell wafted around them. It would have smelled good if not for the dry bitterness that intermingled with the minty floral scent. Friar Fu used the tips of his fingers to flick small droplets of the slick ointment over the boy's back. "This medicine will make it easier for you to breathe. Do not be fooled into thinking you can move freely, however. This will numb the pain but the wounds are still open. You must allow them to heal properly. I can only help you as much as you are willing to be helped. The rest is up to you."
The throbbing sensation in his back began to subside as the ointment took effect. Adrien felt the tightness in his chest lift as the smell of the medicine opened his lungs and relaxed him into easy breathing. It was then that he fully realized the extent of his fatigue. That bitter smelling minty salve was the stuff of miracles.
It was only then that Adrien was aware enough of his surroundings to notice the sound of rain pattering against his window. A flash of light and a deep rumbling tone reminded him of the storm he had heard approaching.
Friar Fu took a cloth dipped in water and began wiping away the filth crusted to the boy's skin. He took great care attending to the boy's split and swollen eye. The look of the wound worried the Friar. There was no way of knowing what damage had been done to the eye itself, only time would tell.
"One last treatment," Friar Fu handed Adrien a modest wooden cup and filled it with a sweet-scented drink. "Drink this. It will help you sleep."
Adrien brought the cup to his lips and drank. The sugary drink tasted as though one had mixed honey and white wine. He coughed, the burn of alcohol hitting the back of his throat. He downed the rest of the drink and handed the cup back to the friar.
"Wha-what was that?" Adrien breathed, the burn still fresh in his throat. "I've never had spirits so sweet."
"That was a honey wine called mead. I do hope you enjoyed it," Adrien nodded to him, not yet feeling the effects that came with drinking wine. "I will check back with you in the morning, young Prince," Friar Fu said after he bandaged Adrien's wounds and gathered his things. He helped Adrien to stand and lay stomach down on the bed. "I shall pray for your swift recovery."
"Thank you," Adrien said. Friar Fu gave him a courteous bow. He let his eyes fall closed as the door clicked shut behind the friar. Adrien listened to the rain, allowing the noise and rumble of thunder to lull him to sleep.
Out in the rain, the friar walked drawing the hood of his robe up over his head. It did little to stop the downpour. The streets were empty as everyone had taken shelter from the storm long ago.
"Master," came a quiet voice from within the friar's robes, "you seem to have taken a keen interest in this boy. Do you think he is the one?"
"I was almost certain of it when I saw the fervency of his will," the friar said, not seeming at all disturbed by the proximity of the voice. "It was the answer he gave me that made up my mind."
"You must think the boy very brave or very clever to bestow him with an item of great power under the nose of the king," the voice said after a moment of thought. "What if he is discovered?"
"My feelings tell me that he will not stay at the castle much longer." Friar Fu entered the chapel and drew back his hood with a sigh. It was cold this night. "Not if he feels he has the power necessary to leave. And yes, Wayzz, I believe him both brave and clever. Otherwise, I would not even consider parting with the Black Cat."
"The Black Cat!" Wayzz zoomed out from the satchel tied at the waist of his master's robe. What appeared as a small flying turtle floated beside Friar Fu as he walked to his chambers in the back of the tiny church. "Master, you truly believe that the Black Cat is necessary? What happens if he fails? What if the Black Cat is lost to us? It is your duty to-"
"I know my duty, Wayzz," Friar Fu tilted his head and glanced at Wayzz. "I would not give up such a precious object unless I knew for certain it was the right thing to do."
"Yes, of course, Master," Wayzz bowed his head respectfully to the old man. "When is it you plan on giving the Black Cat to the boy?"
"Perhaps I will give it to him tomorrow when he's feeling better," Friar Fu did his best to dry off before sitting on the edge of his cot.
"Master, you didn't!" Wayzz flitted around nervously. "You gave him panacea, didn't you! If you are found out to be an alchemist, you will be tried for witchcraft! You will be burned at the stake!"
"I only gave him a little bit!" Friar Fu defended himself, lifting a finger and thumb to indicate the tiniest of portions. "I only gave him enough to start the healing process. He will not be healed completely and his wounds will still scar. It matters little if they suspect me of alchemy or not. I do not plan on staying here once the Black Cat has been released," Friar Fu laid back on the cot. "No, I plan on following his progress, wherever it may lead."
"Very well, Master," Wayzz still appeared to be worried about something but worrying was what he did best.
Adrien woke the next day to the sun shining brightly through his eastward facing windows. He watched the particles of dust dance on the light, swirling through the air as he breathed. The roaring pain from the night before had subsided, giving way to a soreness that made every muscle ache. He wanted to sit up. He wanted to move around but he also did not want to cause his wounds to open again. He sighed, resigning himself to simply lay there until someone came to help him.
The door clicked open only a minute later, revealing King Gabriel with Friar Fu following close behind him. Standing back several paces from the boy, Gabriel watched as the old man helped Adrien up. The dizziness of the sudden change of position made the boy sway on his feet but he steadied himself with help from the healer beside him. He sat on the stool as he had the night before.
"If his wounds smell of rot, it will not bode well for you, old Friar," King Gabriel's voice possessed a tense edge. The kindly friar only bowed his head respectfully and began unwrapping the bandages from Adrien's back.
Friar Fu gasped and stepped back from the boy, his act rendering a stillness over the room. He looked back at the king with wide eyes and stepped to the side as Gabriel came forward to see what was the matter. His eyes too grew wide in shock.
The wounds were not completely healed by any means. Still reddish and angry but the finer layers of skin had already begun to form as though the wounds were more than a month old. There was no scabbing, no dying tissue; only pure, healing, tender flesh.
Adrien turned his head in worry, trying to see what had happened. His efforts were in vain, he could not see his own back. Gabriel stood silent, staring at the healing wounds. This was impossible. Unless...
"It is a miracle, oh King," Friar Fu said in a hushed tone. "God be praised!"
"What did you do?" Gabriel demanded as he reached out a hand and gently touched the newly developed skin of his son's back. He turned to the friar in earnest. "How did you do this?!"
"On my word, my King!" Friar Fu said raising his hands for security. "I cleaned his wounds, sanitizing them with strong spirits, then I gave him a small cup of mead to help him sleep through the pain! Nothing more!"
"Is this true?!" Gabriel demanded from Adrien who was watching the Friar closely. He noticed that the little man had left part of the process unmentioned; the bitter ointment that smelled of mint and flowers. Adrien turned to his father an nodded his head. "You are certain? He didn't put any strange ointments or potions on you?"
"No, Sire," Adrien didn't know exactly what he was getting himself into but he couldn't let this man be punished for helping him in his time of need. "It is as he says. He only cleaned my back and gave me a glass of honey wine to help me sleep. That is all."
Gabriel eyed them both wearily. He could not help the suspicion that he was being lied to but he could not prove otherwise. With a huff of frustration, he turned and left the room. It wasn't until his footfalls faded down the corridor that either of them dared speak a word.
"The concoction I placed on your back last night," Friar Fu said quietly just as Adrien opened his mouth to ask, "was a simple but potent healing salve."
"A healing salve?" Adrien repeated, an uncertain look on his face. "Does that mean, you practice witchcraft?"
"Not all potions are concocted by means of wicked magic," Friar Fu explained. "I do not practice witchcraft but alchemy."
"But what is the difference?" Adrien asked unsure of what to make of all of this. If witchcraft - or alchemy - could be used to heal his wounds over the course of one night, then it could not be so bad. Could it?
"Witchcraft and Alchemy are often thought of as one in the same, but that could not be farther from the truth," Friar Fu held up his hands as he explained. "Witchcraft is the practice of magic. Alchemy is the practice of what is uncommonly known as science. For example, I did not create that salve with magic. I simply created it from common items in a very specific manner. It is called panacea but, alas, it is imperfect. It does have the properties to cure many things, but a true panacea would be able to cure anything that ails you. Though it is helpful, it is not the cure-all I had sought to create."
Adrien took a moment to process the information. He nodded his head slowly. A medicine that could cure anything seemed as though it would be very convenient.
"I fear I must leave you presently," Friar Fu said looking back at the door and nervously shifting his weight between his feet. "I fear your father will be back and he will not be pleased to see me still here with you on the mend. I shall pray that your bright spirit finds a way to prevail against the darkness. The path will be a long one and it will take you far away, but I have faith in you. My hopes for you are very high, dear Prince."
With that, the little Friar left the room. His eyes twinkling as he closed the door behind him. Adrien did not understand the meaning of his words. Was he even meant to? Shrugging it off the boy got to his feet and searched his room for a light shirt to wear over his sore body. He pulled the delicate silk over his head gently, being careful in his movements. Though the slice beneath his eye had begun to heal, his lid remained bruised and swollen. The slightest touch caused it to throb painfully.
Something shined brightly on the edge of his bed, catching his eye. Walking up to the luminous object, he saw it was an ornate mahogany box, small enough to fit on his palm. Looking back at the door he wondered if Friar Fu had perhaps left it on accident. Curiosity gnawed at Adrien's mind like a dog on a bone. He picked up the box and sat on the edge of his bed. He would, of course, return whatever was inside to the friar. He just found that he could not stop himself from discovering what was inside. He cracked it open.