Chapter Two: Sight
The Erlenmeyer flask began to sizzle. Simmering white froth started to pour, then cascade, over the rim of the trembling glass, hitting the wooden desk with a splat and a hiss that was not unlike an acid. Within the chamber, several jolts of static electricity rebounded off the glass before fizzing out.
"It seems this one is a failure," the Plague-beaked doctor huffed.
His colleague, a round man clad in black and silver robes, was quick to cut him off, though. "Failure?! My boy, this is perhaps the most success we have had yet!"
The masked doctor turned to his companion. "But, Dr. Archibald, the blood will not catalyse in this solution! In fact, it rather sends it into... a frenzy..."
Archibald chuckled. "It's certainly volatile, but at least the effects are visible! These findings must be written down, Paarl! See to it!"
The dumbstruck doctor nodded slowly, removing his mask with a tug and approaching a lab table strewn with papers at the other end of the room.
"Some may even call this result... 'shocking'..." Archibald chuckled.
As if the forces of the universe had corralled to try and intercept his awful pun, the door of the lab was suddenly opened creakily. Laurence, draped in a white uniform, walked into the room.
"Doctor, what news?" he demanded.
Archibald spun round, quickly losing his composure at the sight of his grumbling benefactor.
"Sire!" he cried, somewhat unnecessarily. "We are making great leaps with our experiments on the blood. Great leaps! I wish to inform you ho-"
"Quiet!" Laurence snapped. "I wasn't talking to you, you blathering idiot. I was talking to your colleague here."
Paarl just shrugged as Archibald turned to stare at him angrily. "I'm afraid there have been no successful catalysts, sire. The blood remains unsafe to distribute for human applications."
Laurence curled his fist, gazing longingly at a nearby animal cage as though he intended fully to smash it to bits. Instead, he let out a long sigh. "Tarnation. That fool Willem will be proven correct before long. We haven't got long, you understand?"
Paarl nodded, practically visualising his funding, lab equipment and position all falling away to sand before his eyes.
Gesturing now to Archibald, Laurence continued. "He is a valuable asset, but only if he is kept on task. Don't let his mind wander, Paarl, you hear me?"
"Yes, sire," Paarl nodded.
"Hmmph," Laurence grunted, prodding a discoloured flask on the desk with his finger before moving away. "I will return before the week is out."
After the door had swung closed, Archibald rounded on Paarl like a rolling thundercloud.
"I am in charge of this research, Paarl!" he snarled. "Do not assume to usurp me or push me out. This is my laboratory! My equipment; my research!"
Paarl nodded quickly. "Of course, Dr. Archibald. Forgive me, sire."
A big, goofy smile drew across Archibald's mouth.
"All is forgiven," he beamed. "Now, bring me a 50 Megawatt battery and two jumper cables, stat!"
(-)
Gehrman lay back in the chair, right arm hanging limply by his side. His left arm, coiled by some kind of medicinal sling, was flat on the table beside him. A tube protruded from one of his veins, and red ran all the way through the plastic to a large, rusty-grey installation on the far side. Every few seconds, the metronome on the desk would ping, and a dial would turn on the big steel machine.
"How curious," Archibald whispered.
Gehrman, who sat perfectly still and patiently awaited results, now forsook such civilised behaviour and sat up straight like a pylon.
"What?" he growled.
Archibald's eyes seemed to actually glimmer. "Your body... it's supercharged... Brimming with energy... Tell me, have you been struck by lightning as of late?"
Gehrman let out a deep, aggravated sigh. "Something like that."
"It's... wonderful," Archibald chuckled. "Why... you have become a human power outlet..."
"Speak to me in words I understand, damn it!" Gehrman launched himself out of the chair, tearing the bloodied needle from his arm. The nearly seven-foot giant of a man towered over the dwarf-like Archibald, and he stepped towards him slowly, fists curling.
The sight of it was enough to startle Archibald, who cried out "Spare me! Oh, meeting of man and god, let me live! Spare me!"
Gehrman looked down at his fists, scrutinising their bunched appearance - almost as though he could not recall why he had curled them in the first place. With another slight sigh, he let his arms fall to his sides.
"What is happening to me, Doctor?" he groaned.
Archibald cautiously put a hand on his shoulder. "You have communed with greatness, my friend. You are the herald of humanity's new dawn. Beacon of our ascension."
"I communed alright..." Gehrman said, letting out a pitiful laugh. "Then hacked and slashed to ribbons."
"Gehrman?"
The tomb prospector looked up as he saw Maria heading towards him across the room. Almost immediately, he felt a little lighter, if not quite enough to let him drift away like a feather.
"Is it bad?" she asked, rushing to his side. "Are you going to be okay?"
"He's going to be more than okay, m'lady," Archibald declared. "He is going to be... Great."
"Oh?" Maria's gaze shifted between that of her friend and the black-robed doctor.
"Physically, there is nothing wrong with him. In fact, from what tests I have conducted, I can make several conclusions. Firstly, I-"
"Another time," Gehrman interrupted, turning away from the doctor and to his smiling companion. "I have missed you, Maria."
Maria smiled. "But, it has been but hours..."
"Too long..." Gehrman grinned.
The pair embraced, leaving Archibald to stand around awkwardly, prodding his test vials.
Maria drew back, beaming at her companion. "You look healthy. Your eyes... you appear more alive than ever before..."
"I feel it," Gehrman laughed. "Like I could run a mile, or raise a hunk of iron over my head, or-"
"Well, lets think smaller for now," Maria interjected. "How about something to eat?"
"How about everything?" Gehrman smiled, patting his belly.
(-)
"Come in, Caryll."
The Runesmith was taken aback at the sound of Willem's voice from through his closed door. "But, Master, I am yet to knock..."
The Master of Byrgenwerth College sat forward in his chair. "I hear the rattle of your wheels from halfway across the college. I will get the door for you."
Willem slowly rose from his chair and crossed the room to the door.
Caryll had adapted quickly to the loss of his legs, and despite the tragedy of his circumstances, he appeared somewhat comfortable with his new position. He even smiled at the appearance of his master.
"Master, thank you for your assistance, but it was not necessary for you to leave your seat. I am perfectly able to open this door myself!"
Willem patted his shoulder. "I know you are, my friend. But I need the exercise myself. Too many thoughts whizzing through my head. Come, let us go outside."
The college master wheeled Caryll through his office, carefully navigating the neatly-stacked, precisely-ordered shelves and tables. Upon reaching a large set of doors, Willem set Caryll's chair down, and moved to open them. With a loud creak and a whoosh of air not unlike a strong wind, the large oak doors swung open, bathing Willem's office in the white light of the moon.
"It is a beautiful night, is it not?" Willem asked his student, wheeling him out onto the college balcony.
"Indeed," Caryll replied. "Events as of late have truly sharpened my sight. The moon is far more divine than I remember."
The gentle swill of the currents below was all but separated the night from complete silence. The stillness was tranquil - even the grey clouds trawling the sky seemed to drift slower, as though enjoying themselves.
"I have been conducting more research on these 'Great Ones', Master," Caryll began. "The Pthumerian journals we discovered in the catacombs are most enlightening. They believed that each Great One served as some kind of representative of natural order. They speak principally of four. 'Amygdala, the bringer of knowledge.' 'Oedon, the bringer of spirit.' 'Flora, the bringer of compassion.' 'And Kos, the bringer of-'"
"Sight," Willem nodded. "We have much to learn from these Great Ones. Their knowledge could be enough to ascend humanity to the next stage of our evolution."
"My thoughts exactly, master," Caryll said. "All this talk of blood and cure all-healing distracts us from the true pursuit: knowledge."
"We need more insight into this world, Caryll," Willem sighed. "If we are to become akin to greatness, we must learn to think like them."
Caryll did not reply. The crisp sea breeze was the only sound for miles.
"You are my most-favourite student Caryll," Willem said eventually, eyes fixed on the horizon. "Laurence is ambitious, intelligent and bold, but he is far too rash for my liking. But you have followed my teachings - not like a lamb to a shepard but a wolf to its pack. You have taken my work and built upon it, without detracting from it."
Caryll felt a warmth surge through him, taking away any thought relating to the bitter evening wind. "Thank you, master."
Willem nodded. "You and I must stand together against this. We both believe that this blood is a thing to be feared, not embraced. I sense that our beliefs will be challenged. Byrgenwerth will soon change. Are you ready for that?"
"Always, Master Willem," Caryll replied.
"Then we will wait," the college master declared. "And we will see."
(-)
Maria watched, fascinated as Gehrman tore at the leg of lamb in his hand, coming back for more every time she was sure he had been finished, seemingly never fully-satiated.
"You have a fearful appetite, my friend," Maria laughed.
Gehrman smiled as he took yet another savage bite from the meat. "Nothing seems to quite fill me."
Maria started to twirl her spoon inside of her empty bowl. Watching Gehrman eat so ravenously had annihilated her own appetite.
"What do you think of all this?" she asked. "Isn't this just... crazy? To think that the Pthumerians were right about all of this... Communion with the cosmos..."
Gehrman swallowed his mouthful. "I think... Well, I think it's going to change the world. But I disagree with Laurence. Creatures like this 'Ebrietas'... They are not wonders to be marvelled at. They are abominations to be destroyed."
"How can you say that?" Maria cried. "Think of the knowledge we could gain from them? The advancements we could make... I-"
"If these truly are gods, then they have no place amongst mortal kind," Gehrman said. "But if they are but stronger beings than we... Apex predators... Then our goal should be to rid ourselves of them. Think about it. What happened to the Pthumerians? That once-great race... Reduced to feral stragglers... What would you say was responsible for that?"
"It is not for me to say," Maria replied quietly.
Gehrman sighed. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to argue. We have been through a lot, and are stronger for it."
"Yes," Maria smiled. "And the future is yet unwritten. But we can be certain that our names will make the history books."
"I should like that," Gehrman concurred, setting down his latest stripped leg bone on top of the graveyard on his plate. "May I walk you home?"
"You may."
Yharnam was bustling with activity, even in the middle of the night. Street vendors waving multicoloured vials and dubious animal meats shouted out at Gehrman and Maria as they passed. Golden light flooded over the damp grey cobbles from the hundreds of illuminated windows and street lamps. To call it beautiful would be to ignore the congregations of rats that scurried about the cobbles and the open sewer grates that wafted pungent foecal scents across town, but that isn't to say that there wasn't a rough beauty in its sights.
Maria's home was hardly the diamond of this rough. Somewhat dilapidated on the exterior, with dulled out window panes and rickety wooden walls, it was a modest, if unsightly, abode.
"Well, here's me," Maria said, almost wistfully, as she turned to bid Gehrman goodnight.
"Maria, how can you live in a place like this?" Gehrman asked, gruffness replaced by something rare - concern?
"My financial position is not a happy one, but, as you can see, I am a happy lady. I make the best of the life I have, with no privileges to speak of."
Gehrman smiled warmly. "You are welcome to stay in my home any time you wish, Maria. Do not force poverty on yourself."
With a tilt of his cap, Gehrman stepped back into the moon-swept streets. "Goodnight, my friend."
Maria waved. "And to you."
With the door closed behind her, Maria let out a deep sigh. A droplet of rainwater splattered onto her head, causing her gaze to drop to the carpet.
There was a letter on the rug.
A letter with a seal that Maria knew all too well.
"When will you leave me be?" she whispered, clutching the summons in her fingers, before tossing it straight into her stove.
As the smell of smoke and burning wax filled her nostrils, Maria's thoughts were of home.
And they were not happy.
(-)
Laurence entered Archibald's laboratory at noon the following Friday. Paarl met him at the doorway, a smile spread across his face.
"Sire, I believe we've got it."
Laurence dropped his scowl immediately. "You catalysed the blood for consumption?"
"Quicksilver solution," Paarl answered. "It acts as a bonding agent between our two different bloods."
"We need to conduct trials immediately!" Laurence boomed. "Send out for test subjects."
"Not necessary!" Archibald cut in. "We've found a man. Rom!"
Laurence looked round as a small, hunchbacked man hobbled out of the shadows. Timidly, he approached the trio, his miniature Byrgenwerth robes swaying.
"Good afternoon, sire," the man whispered toothily. His lack of eye contact made it difficult to concern who, if anyone, he had addressed particularly.
"Who is this, Paarl?" Laurence snapped.
Paarl shrugged, and Archibald stepped in once again. "Rom here is a medical degenerate. Low intelligence, poor physical condition - he is perfect for a clinical trial."
"Has he volunteered for this?" Laurence asked, gazing at the shrivelled man.
Rom nodded excitedly. "Oh yes, sire. I volteered when mister Dr. Archibald told me about the experiments. Sire."
Laurence sighed. "Very well. Inform of any and all developments."
Paarl watched Laurence leave, his brain begging his feet to follow suit. But, motionless he stood, before turning to Rom.
He was dribbling from the corner of his mouth now.
Paarl let out a deep breath.
