Chapter 14: The First Dose

Subject: Inis Location: Absence Woodland

A heavy breeze swept through the Absence Woodland, whistling as is passed through the thin filter of Fraletrees around Inis’s camp. It was muffled by a compound protection spell around the perimeter before it reached her ears.

From the “Ring Buffer” spell grouping, “Compound Buffer” didn’t block air from flowing in and out of the camp, but it did curb it. So as not to drain the warding stones of an excessive amount of energy each day, Compound Buffer would passively monitor a large radius around the camp. This was the first of the spell’s two functions.

The active portion of the spell would trigger if something attempted to permeate the boundary with a sufficient magnitude of force. Once activated, a smaller radius around the camp would raise an invisible defensive buffer to impede whatever was trying to get inside.

Compound Buffer was invisible, but right now, Inis could see airborne debris sliding across the hemispherical surface of the barrier, following the path of least resistance around her camp. The barrier’s effect on visible matter gave it a visible presence of its own.

Inis didn’t yet understand why, but Compound Buffer seemed to have a more significant effect on matter with greater densities. Similarly, certain energies bypassed the spell with different levels of ease. Additionally, Compound Buffer seemed to perform an automatic calibration once it was cast, a process she hadn’t yet learned to control.

It frustrated Inis to use a spell she knew so little about, but its utility triumphed her pride.

The discovery of new spells was related to other forms of innovation. Inis hoped to discover a new way of accumulating the Blight’s power from blightseeds. Ingesting them orally was the standard. To her knowledge, no one had thought to absorb the blightseed intravenously.

People have probably considered it, but many have trouble accepting that eating them is safe. It probably isn’t a stretch to assume a handful of people have injected them, but what did they discover?

When a person consumed a blightseed, their body underwent a change. This was called “accumulation”, and it was aberrant to the world’s natural laws. Blight power warped each individual differently.

Only Pulse knew the rhyme or lack thereof, reason or intent.

Each person wanted blightseeds to affect them in specific ways, but they never had a choice in the matter. People were not born equal. No one chose to be born, nor did they select their biology.

Inis had expectations for the first blightseed to touch her lips. She had heard of the many ways blightseeds had improved others, stretching far beyond the limits of natural ability. Prizing her mind above all, Inis wished for augmented cognitive abilities and magical stamina, at the expense of all else.

Only after repeated attempts did Inis glean, with disappointment, that she had received an even spread, with many exceptions. She lacked muscle development and many of the rare boons she had seen documented by the Blightbane Guild.

To some, this may have seemed like a good result. But ask any veteran seeker, and they’ll tell you the problem.

As a person accumulates more and more, they gain less and less of a result. Their body changes less and less until they stagnate. After plateauing with such a wide spread of enhancements, Inis would be left wanting in every respect. A little of everything was a lot of nothing.

Right now, reflecting on past wishes was Inis’s way of procrastinating.

“There is no reason to suggest that a person will become a blightbeast if they consume blightseeds. No studies have suggested anything like that.”

Studious research into blightseed accumulation had molded this experiment. Inis’s fears were ungrounded.

Subject: Inis Location: Absence Woodland

Inis had already filled a syringe with blightseed distillate and strapped it to her arm. Looking at the silver liquid inside, it was difficult to believe she would get the same result as if she had merely eaten the seed.

Her finger grazed the activation switch. Hesitation.

It would be incorrect to say Inis was reluctant to move forward. That wasn’t why she hadn’t taken the next step.

The syringe was designed to be used entirely autonomously. Once it was filled, strapped to the user's arm, and activated, there was nothing else that needed to be done.

“I am afraid,” she admitted. “I’ve never used this thing before.”

The poor researcher had saved up for this model because she intended to use it. She wasn’t a doctor, so she needed a tool that compensated for her lack of expertise. Inis had consulted a professional after purchasing it because she had wanted to learn to use it properly.

This piece of technology was incredible, but what Inis found the most exciting was its origin. Technological advancements had long advanced alongside magic. That trend had only accelerated as of late.

Pulse, that extraordinarily elusive force, lends insights about the natural world that people then extrapolate upon to develop even more wondrous effects.

Magic inspired innovation, which led to the discovery of new spells using that new technology, feeding a cycle. However, there was one nagging concern that afflicted people like Inis.

Or the people I was taught to think like, alongside others who made or encountered similar mistakes as mine.

That nagging concern was understanding. Technology borrowed from obscure magical origins inherited mysterious qualities. “Magitech”, as it was often called, was like acquiring a tool from the unknown, without instructions.

Not that I’m an expert in such matters. I’m letting my intellectual insecurities get the better of me.

“I do not believe the injection will cause any more harm to my body than an orally administered blightseed would,” she spoke into her headset. “However, the effects of concentrated blightseed liquid distillate, administered intravenously, cannot be determined until I have tried it.”

Inis mustered up the courage to press on.

“For ancient science. The lofty ideal will outlive this age of ignorance.”

This phrase gave her all the motivation she needed. Inis flipped the switch, and the mechanical device on her arm sprang to life.

Sobering doubt closed in.

“Perhaps I’m too reckless? Should I really be boldly brushing past so many scientific principles, motivated by the loss of such a valuable blightbeast malevolution specimen? Am I making the same mistake as my-”

Her voice was interrupted by a soft click. She felt the plunger inject icy liquid into her arm. It was too late for regrets.

Excruciating pain.

Pain so intense that Inis couldn’t even isolate the areas of her body that smoldered so.

Inis knew she needed to document her experience, but when she opened her mouth to report the pain, the words didn’t come out.

Instead, a blightbeast’s agonized howl surged forth from Inis’s lips. Figuratively. Fears molded perception of the sound.

Such a volume would cross the threshold of the aural concealment spell around the camp. Even so, she could only howl more as the pain soared to new heights.

Inis fought the burn and slumped over her workbench, summoning strength in an attempt to reclaim control and document what was happening for the next imbecile to stumble across her notes. She hated the Guild, but she would hate even more for her efforts to go to waste. All allies against the Blight needed to know.

Again, Inis couldn’t speak. Her hand slid across the smooth surface of the bench and knocked over some of her tools. Nothing of any significant value had been broken, but she could barely appreciate that.

“The accumulation process is draining me. I- Instead of the… rush of energy one would normally feel… I…”

I need a... a shard… Inis struggled to think. This is depriving me. I’ll be virastarved before long.

“The pain was incredible… but now it had faded to a low... burn.”

She fought back against the exhaustion, but even this lesser pain was getting to her at this point.

“My… advice… for future attempts… is to perform the experiment on a healthy adult… with many respite shards on hand,” she choked.

Inis crawled toward her satchel, where her respite shards were stored. It was a struggle to get her heavy limbs to respond.

“Please don’t die a fool like me. My name is Inistra… Tayme, and I have no living family members to notify. I’m sorry for letting that happen to dad, mom. I’m sorry for failing, dad,” she whispered in a hoarse voice.

Inis lay on her back now, trying to peer through a crack in the canopy up at the sky. That was supposed to have been her next destination, once she was finally allowed to choose goals of her own. Forbidden or not, apex predator leviathan notwithstanding.

The events and choices charting a broad path to this moment looked like a constellation in Inis’s mind.

Inis’s vision was blurring now, both from the pained tears and an all-consuming shroud of suffocating indigo fog. The fog wasn’t real. She knew that. But the impending virastarvation coma was.

Inis fumbled in the darkness.

It was in her head. It was in Inis’s head. It was.

Inis found a respite shard and crushed it against her chest. The sudden burst of energy was barely noticeable against the overbearing fatigue. It was like something else inside had swallowed up all of that energy.

Inis tried to stay conscious. She really did.

She didn’t.