Page 117 of Gift from the Wing

“We’ve named it the Vessel Deterior. Its purpose is to break down the body in order for the Summum-Master to remove the gifts and elements. The ingredients…” He hesitates, and as soon as two seconds pass, I cast out five shadow forks and embed them right below his collarbone. He bellows, and everyone looks at me.

I may have skipped a couple size growths there.

Whoops.

“The ingredients are from multiple realms,” he cries, heaving, trying to catch his breath, and I give him this moment rather than stab him again. “Natural born Elementrians do not die from diseases nor do we have natural causes of death, but one other realm does and another has one disease that can kill if contracted.”

“The nonmagical realm and Mystara Hollow,” I finish for him and he nods.

“Mystarians, much like us, could be immortal, but a couple centuries ago, a plague broke out. It was caused by an invasive plant—the Aconight plant—that blended with one of their remedy herbs. Its appearance was nearly identical, so many of the practitioners were adding that into their potions unknowingly. The herb strips their magic. Once consumed, there is no stopping it. Their magic basically…fades away. They’ve since identified the plant and have done away with it, aside from the supply the higher rulers keep.

“The nonmagical realm can and will die of both. Their lifespans are incredibly short, and they can die by any number of things. Fragile beings, to say the least. There are hundreds of thousands of diseases present in the realm, but one in particular called an autoimmune disease, got the Mastery’s attention.”

His eyes alight with wonder and I snarl before sending out a small switchblade to stab through his shoulder. Sure, I love learning about new and fascinating things, but he’s getting excited over these deadly diseases that have killed across realms. I don’t give a fuck if he’s a scientist and this is interesting for him. I won’t allow him to relish in some sort of sick satisfaction.

“Finish,” I command.

“An…autoimmune disease for nonmagical beings is when the body’s cells attack themselves. Rather than fighting off something as simple as a common cold, it’ll kill off the healthy cells that are trying to protect it. Then lastly—”

“The Poison of Essence,” Tillman grunts and we all whip our heads toward him.

“What?” I ask coldly.

“He uses a drop of the Poison of Essence,” he says begrudgingly.

“I am not the creator of this. I’ve just been modifying and perfecting it,” Darstein says defensively as if that makes him any less guilty.

“Explain the purpose of the three of them together. What is it doing to Oakly right now?” Tillman asks.

“Our bodies are created on a duality system. We have all the same components of nonmagical beings, but with the bonus of our gifts, magic, and elements. Those two function both together and separately. Our bodies could survive without our bonuses, but our bonuses must inhibit a body. Our bonuses are intricately woven in with the rest of us, so deeply, we, for the most part, cannot tell their functions apart.

“Once you mix those three ingredients together, it creates the means to separate the bonuses completely. The Aconight plant attacks the bonuses. It is not strong enough to make it fade as it does the Mystarians, but it weakens its ability to fight it off. Paired the drop of the Poison of Essence, it can tear it from the body once the body is broken down enough. That’s the point of the autoimmune disease. Without the protection of our bonuses, it can attack our cells, inhibit the body’s ability to heal. It’s the first ever Elementra infection.”

The room falls deathly silent.

I can’t even breathe through the onslaught of information now coursing through my mind.

“Keeper, you got all that?” Tillman asks solemnly and Keeper’s pencil stops scribbling after a moment, then he nods. “Draken, take him back to the others and give them this information. See if anyone can find a way around this.”

“You’re wasting your time. I’ve yet to come up with a reversal. Once it’s in the bloodstream, there’s no getting it out,” Darstein says and Draken’s fist flies across his face once again. This time, leaving him out cold.

“Go. We have more to discuss with him. If Willow or any of you need us, let me know,” Tillman orders once again, gripping Draken on the shoulder. The dragon doesn’t resist as he and Keeper leave silently, lost in their own thoughts and rage.

“What else did you see?” I ask once they shut the door.

“I didn’t go far back. I heard the ingredients but didn’t understand the two that weren’t from here. There’re some areas that are going to take a good bit of effort to uncover. He’s been drugging himself to forget things. What stuck out, though, was that he has an overwhelming repeated thought about how he’s better than the last scientist. I think that’s the man who did what he did to you,” he says cautiously, but I’m not upset he brought that up.

The opposite, actually.

I want that answer. Now.

Pulling out a healing vial from my shadows, I pop the cap and pause, glancing over at Tillman. “When he wakes up, bring up the former scientist and get an image of him from his mind. I’ll be able to identify him.”

At his nod, I pry Darstein’s jaw open and pour the contents in, then step back and wait for him to come to. It doesn’t take long. Gaster knows how to make a mean healing vial and this fucker should be grateful I allow him to absorb it.

Groaning and turning his head around, he startles when he fully comes to and sees the two of us glaring at him.

“Who did you replace in the Mastery?” Tillman immediately asks, then slaps his hand to Darstein’s forehead.

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