“Now Ed, as per our agreement… I can wait ten years… no more… no less. Deloris must be dead within that timeframe.” The old apothecary wagged his finger at Ed as if Ed were a toddler.

Ed was nonplussed, but compliant, “Alright, alright.”

“Now ten years may seem like a long time —”

“GIT A MOVE ON DAMMIT!”

Ebenezer squinted at Ed’s sudden outburst, “Why so loud?”

“Yer so distracted and it’s making me so damn nervous!” Sweat glistened on the old Psycher's scalp, demonstrating the truth of his claim. But the medicine man grinned wickedly.

“I’m not putting it in yet.” Ebenezer’s dusty old hands coiled around a strangely shaped object in the firelight, slathering on grease and oil.

Ed sighed in relief, “Oh, well I wasn’t ready anyways… I need to prepare my heart.”

Ebenezer looked incredulous, then he shook his head in mock surrender, “I don’t know why you need your heart for this… hang on… Why are you clenching?! This is supposed to be consensual!”

“This is my first time…”

“Hmph, well it certainly won’t be the last!”

“We have to do this more times?!”

“Many more… once a month.”

“Prick you!”

“I’ll be doing the pricking thank you… erm… the slicing…”

Ebenezer set down the oddly shaped gem and started grinding away at an old scalpel blade, while Ed was strapped down to a table, his fists clenched in fear. Tight black leather strips bound the Psycher to the operating table, which was tilted at an angle slightly shy of 90 degress. Ed grimaced at the annoying sound of metal on metal, but eventually blocked it out by looking around the room idly. They were in the back of the Alchemist’s shop. A much cleaner room than the disorganized storefront. The floor was of cold grey stone and the ceiling of the same. No windows. No external light. No moisture in the air. No decorations or furniture. Everything was bare, save for the operating table and a workbench with all of Ebenezer’s gear — illuminated by glowing orbs of light that were suspended in the air. Ed found himself staring at the lights, trying to calm himself. He cleared his throat after a moment of contemplation.

“So, why don’t you use the light bulb? Just get some copper wire, Lightning Bamboo… or something like that… hook it up and wabam!”

Ebenezer stopped grinding his scalpel and lightly blew on it, he turned around and regarded Ed with suspicion. “… What? Do you own shares in a light bulb company? That’s the fifth time you’ve made that comment in the past hour.”

Ed looked to the side sheepishly, Ebenezer rolled his eyes and then continued, “I won't invest. Even for an esteemed client like yourself. Ducats is ducats, my friend. I… er… um… bought… a stash of Light Gems a few hundred years ago… won’t need more for a couple hundred more years.”

Ed changed the subject, trying to distract himself from the thought of surgery. “When’s Oz gonna wake up?”

“My poultices are number one dear customer, he’ll never wake up!”

“WHAT THE PRICK?!” The room reverberated with psychic energy, small fractures forming on the stone tiles. The oddly shaped gem started humming in resonance. Seeing the gem’s bizarre behaviour Ed withdrew his power in shock, “What the prick…” He said, more softly this time, his voice trailing off.

Ebenezer rubbed his temples in agitation, “Yes, harm the surgeon! What a great idea!” He looked over to the wall and his eyes bulged, “DAMMIT ED! You cracked by bloody wall! When I said the boy would never wake up, I mean he won’t wake up until I administer the antidote, not that he’s dead!” Ebenezer started hopping with fury, abandoning the scalpel on the work bench, he frolicked to the wall with rage. He peered at the cracks and got on his knees in a fluster, “My poor wall… Do see this Ed?” Ebenezer’s head clicked as it turned to Ed with an unnatural motion.

“Pardon?” Ed was a little frightened, Ebenezer’s eyes were wide with madness.

“Do you see it?!”

“I… don’t…”

“THERE’S MONEY DRIPPING FROM THE WALLS!"

Ed stared at him blankly, he tried to speak but Ebenezer interrupted him, "Everything is money!”

Ed scoffed, “You’re mad! There’s no money there!”

“BLIND! See these orbs of light, they’re just floating gold coins that will disappear soon. Never to return. See this cement holding the stone together? It’s a thin layer of gold, keeping the wall together with love! See these slabs of stone?! They’re bundles of cash tied together! Everything is money!”

Ed blinked, then huffed, “…I see.”

Ebenezer double facepalmed, he got up and surged towards Ed, his grainy woodish face close to the old Psycher. He extended his hands and rubbed them together, “Pay me or get out.”

Ed sighed in exasperation, “How much?”

“1000 ducats, 900 for emotional trauma.”

“… You're joking."

“It wasn’t a joke. I never joke about money. You saw the gem right? I insert it into your brain and it grows and bonds with your brain… it imitates the structure of your brain… adding additional capacity to your psychosis reserves. It’s like having a second brain, you won’t get it, unless you pay!” Ebenezer spat every word with venom, his face contorted with anger.

Ed stared at the gem. He needed the power, this was one fight he couldn't afford to have. He mulled over the price, then sighed, “Damn you.” Ed opened his pocket with his mind and floated a sack of coins to Ebenezer’s face.

The old man smiled, a smile surpassing all smiles. All anger gone, “Thank you dear customer, now let me go wash my hands.”

As Ebenezer tottered off Ed regarded the strangely shaped “gem” for a second time and reached for it with his mind. The gem reacted… and… it squirmed? Light Untold… what is this thing? His eyes followed the old apothecary’s form as it exited the room. When Ebenezer returned Ed shot him a look. Ebenezer smiled, “You have a question dear customer?”

“So how does this ‘thing’ work exactly…” Ed gestured to the odd gem with his head, his baldness shimmering in the dull light.

“This… creature… is a higher lifeform with Psychic capabilities.”

“Creature… it’s a creature now… I thought it was a ’gem’.”

“’Gem’ is a relative term,” Ebenezer waved his hands dismissively.

“No. It’s not.”

“Whatever, despite it’s small size, it has roughly the same amount of Psychic power and potential as your average teenager… it’s incredibly dense and almost at full maturity — meaning it now has the strength of an Understudy Grade Psyker — but no sentience.” Ebenezer took the creature in his hands and ran his oddly textured finger over it. When it matures, it develops its own ego and as a result starts spending the built-up psychosis to maintain its sentience… but due to the fact that it lacks a true body, it’s unable to produce its own psychosis. So to stay 'alive', it hunts creatures with higher cranial capacity, devouring their brains, to get their psychosis reserves… marvelous little thing isn’t it? I have a whole farm of these things in the basement.”

“Wait… you’re grafting a brain eater?” Ed let the question hang.

Ebenezer nonchalantly nodded.

“… Into my brain?”

Ebenezer nodded, swirling a vial of liquid in his hand.

The air around Ed reverberated dangerously, “… Get me out of this chair.”

Ebenezer shoved a finger over Ed’s lips and softly shushed, like a mother comforting a small babe. He then stroked Ed’s beautiful bald head a couple times and said, “Dear customer, the contract is already signed and the procedure is 100% safe! You see, this creature won’t gain full sentience until it grows its cortex and nervous system. Right now, it’s just an oddly shaped gem —” Ed’s eyes gave a silent protest that Ebenezer ignored “— That is on the verge of turning into truly sentient life. Every month — for about a year — you come back here for an inspection. I snip it every month and eventually it will simply graft into your brain — bonding with your cortex and nerves.”

Ed paused and thought of the sticky sweet allure of power, he thought of his family, he thought of Oz, he thought of the monster that took his hand. He needed power, he needed it badly. He looked at Ebenezer’s glimmering eyes and softly asked, “Has it ever failed?”

“Never, now drink this potion.” Ebenezer shoved the vial of — whatever he had been swirling — to Ed’s lips. Ed opened his mouth and allowed Ebenezer to pour the sticky sweet substance into his mouth. Ed swallowed. Soon the black began to swallow his vision, he felt incredibly sleepy. But then he heard something that made his rage bubble, he clawed trying to get a swipe in. He tried to warp the psychosis in his brain, but it slipped through his fingers like an eel. As he faded into the black, he cursed Ebenezer with all his might. That final sentence hounding him and making his heart clench with wrath. The apothecary’s wheezy and nasally voice, following him into the dark.

“It’s never succeeded either.”

Ed passed out. Ebenezer chuckled to himself and then put a steel glove on his hand. After mumbling something under his breath a flame appeared in his hand. Taking his surgical instruments, he ran them through the flame and then blew out the fire nervously — as if afraid it would devour him whole. As the flame vanished in a puff of smoke, he pulled at a string that was wrapped around his neck, bringing the necklace up to the light. On the end of the string was a solid gold ducat, a shining glimmering coin, filled with strange designs and foreign script — that pulsed with an odd energy. Ebenezer kissed the coin, sloppily and lovingly. He put the necklace back into his shirt. Rubbed a strange gel onto Ed’s skull and began his delicate work, humming as he went.

As the operation was proceeding, in the next room, Oz’s sleeping form was tossing and turning. Covered in sweat. The small boy was reliving the same memory over and over again. Trapped in what seemed to be an endless dream, he recalled many things, things that haunted him and confused him. Things too complex for his waking mind to process but were potent in the land of dreams.

He remembered it, crystal clear. His eyes looking at a body that was altogether alien to him, his head seemed to be rolling along a cold stone floor and then finally touching a strange book. When his head had lightly brushed the book, words seemed to swarm to his inner self. His eyes beheld a strange phrase, he understood it. He didn’t know what it was that he understood, but he knew that he understood. As the black claimed his sight, more words from the book stormed into his mind, then one phrase grew to enormity and blocked out every other idea. It screamed in an inaudible whisper, dominating his unconscious mind. He felt something snap inside him and then reconnect. The phrase penetrating and burning into his very self, his very being — branded, changed and transformed.

Oportet vos nasci denuo.

Fading.

Oportet vos nasci denuo.

It began fading.

Oportet vos nasci denuo.

Fading.

Oportet... vos... na —

It was gone. All was black, then. Something strange happened. In a box, on a makeshift island, in a sect. There was a body, with a heavy cloth kimono and a light blue blanket. The box — and all its contents — was still. But then, movement. The corpse wriggled and squirmed. It contorted and convulsed, jerking around in the box violently. Then all was still.

Blink, blink.

The corpses' eyes opened and closed, but whether opened or closed, all was darkness. The corpse couldn't recall how it got there or who it was, as if on cue its mind was rocked by a flood of information. Then pain, unbearable pain. His mind shouted at him in anguish, like it was a balloon being stuffed to the point of bursting. The corpse shouted and screamed. Its voice getting higher and higher and higher. It's limbs shrinking, like a deflating ballon and then the torso. Then the head. The corpses scraggly beard receded into it's face, it's hair was sucked back into its scalp — leaving soft fuzz in its wake. The once looselt fitting kimono now dwarfed the now tiny and infantile body that lay within.

The pain stopped.

Blink. Blink.

He tried to lift his small hands to his head, but a heavy cloth was holding his arms down. He was too weak to even lift it. He lay there. Unable to process what was going on or where he was. Fear started to grip him, but soon fear was eclipsed by another desire. A desire even more base, even more primal.

Thirst.

Drip, drip.

Water dripped down. Taunting him. Mocking him. Laughing at him. His throat burned with fire and his muscles felt weak and helpless.

The dark surrounded him.

He wanted that water. Again, he felt his mind assaulted — he was powerless to resist and unable to cry out — like a turkey, hunted, then killed, then stuffed beyond capacity, then baked — all the while being forced to watch. Concepts, words and ideas flooded in. But, his mind could not grasp them. It could not comprehend. Ideas flowed through it like water through a sieve. He was an observer in his own mind. A mass, a torrent, a downpour of information streamed in his mind. But he could not process it. When the assault of knowledge finished he felt mental pain. Then a dry pain. His throat was parched. The fire had turned to a blazing inferno of desire.

Thirst. Thirst. Thirst.

Over and over, drops of water, so near, yet so far.. He wanted that wet stuff. He needed it. How to ask… Ask? What is ask? As if on instinct a small cry escaped him. The dry rasping of sobbing and the whine of a baby. The heavy cloth pinning him down — stifling his cries. He struggled. Kicking his little legs and flailing his small hands. The cloth went into his mouth. He panicked.

Air! Air! Air!

The baby gulped, struggling to breathe through the cloth over its face. He felt his veins beginning to bulge as he choked. His frightened eyes saw something. A blue light seemed to be burst through little holes in the fabric that covered its body. The light illuminated the small sobbing form and filled the baby with warmth — a warmth that chased away thirst and weariness. The sobbing stopped. The cloth fell out of his mouth. He could breath again. He stared at the light, feeling an embrace, a warm embrace.

Little eyes darted about, trying to see where the light was coming from. Tiny hands gripped old patchwork fabric and pulled down. Slowly, the cloth covering the baby was being pulled out of the way. When tired the baby would rest, then rejuvenated it would resume the quest. Soon a small head peeked out from behind a patchwork kimono and looked at the source of the blue light. The baby's eyes lit up. There, crumpled in a pile at the edge of the wooden box that contained the baby, was a shimmering blue blanket.

The baby wanted the blanket, wanted to be close to it. The baby wanted that warmth again. That feeling of fullness and energy. Then as if responding to the baby’s desire, the warm light of the blanket seemed to peel off and ebb its way into the little baby. When the light touched the baby it softly caressed the baby’s face as if it was a hand. The baby giggled in the dark. Soft peals of childish laughter echoing in the small enclosed space. The light seemed to speak to the baby, but the baby couldn’t respond. After all, it was still a baby.

Hunger.

The baby thought with all its might. A little bit of light peeled off the blanket and entered into the baby. The baby felt full and laughed. Time passed again.

Thirst.

The blanket responded.

The cycle continued, for days, weeks, even months. Soon, a year and a half had passed in the small wooden box. The blanket’s light had now become dimmer but was still strong. The baby’s mind had grown a lot.

Thirsty!

The blanket sent its light to the baby and playfully danced around it bringing choruses of laughter from the baby. The light moved away from the baby, the baby crawled after the light, chasing it around the small box. Soon the light entered the baby. The blanket spoke to the baby’s mind.

Was it good?

Good!

The picture of a smiling woman filled the baby’s mind. She was playful and slender, perhaps too thin in some places. Her skin was smooth and soft but dotted with the imperfections that come about from spending too much time in the sun. She wore a blue summer dress and sported blue slippers. She was white and freckled, auburn hair in loose curls framed green eyes and a strawberry shaped head. She wasn’t elegant, but she was beautiful. Dimples on each cheek and slightly crooked teeth gave her radiant smile an inexplicable charm.

Can you talk out loud for me?

Talky! Talk!

Use your mouth! The blanket sent over a picture of lips and a tongue moving.

No!

A mental sigh touched the baby. Why not?

No!

The auburn girl flashed again in the baby’s mind and the blanket softly whispered to the baby. Some things never change. She smiled. A sad smile, a forlorn smile. I didn’t dream of meeting you again… but here we are… life is too amazing. The sad smile vanished from the auburn girl. She poised like a cat about to pounce in the baby's mind. I’m gonna getchya! A mischievous giggle entered the baby’s mind, the child playfully screamed as light swarmed off the blanket and started chasing the baby as it tried to crawl away. Tendrils of light tickled the baby and laughter turned to ear-piercing screams of joy.