“That was more than I needed,” Kyria Rhaptis said while standing in the door and staring up at the mass the salve had spawned on my Mark.

  “As long as you can remove it.”

  The mirror in my home had done nothing to disprove my worst fears. Denial was a powerful thing, but even it had limits. At home, I would have jumped to study the impressive specimen with its mixture of iridescent veins and angry red tissue. However, with it attached to my face, I was now the interesting case—a thing you never wanted to be.

  “I can, but it will hurt. You will also definitely need a potion.” She stepped back to let me in. “I will get a cloth and my tools. Have a seat over there.”

  I paused in front of the chair near the corner. The straps on the arms and back raised a few concerns. I couldn’t shake the feeling that this device’s primary purpose was sinister, and it would not surprise me to see the chair in a museum exhibit about medieval torture devices.

  The old [Tailor] saw my troubled look. “Necessary precautions. Now sit.”

  I didn’t miss the command in her tone. I sat down in the chair, though I didn’t put my arms in the straps. That was a step too far. Though the pain had improved, the events of the last hour remained fresh in my mind. Everything in this camp continued to push my skeptical nature into one favoring paranoia and distrust. It wasn’t healthy, but neither was getting beaten senseless. However, lack of trust was not the only reason I failed to place my arms on the black straps. While the straps weren’t leather, they still had a menacing air to them. I could pick up strange energies emanating from the patterns woven into the dark fabric. Though I couldn’t tell what they did, I couldn’t deny the feeling that putting my hand in there would be no different than placing them in a steel trap. I would be completely at her mercy.

  “You aren’t used to pain, are you?”

  The amusement in her eyes was infuriating, but I didn’t try to deny the truth. “No. I think most here would say I have lived a soft life.”

  “Then you will need this more than most.” She grabbed my wrist with a strength that belied her size and age and strapped my arms to the chair. I barely caught the subtle shift in the Aether before the straps suddenly cinched down and my awareness dimmed.

  I tried to move my wrists, but I couldn’t even wiggle it. “A bit tight.” My hands had already started to go white from lack of blood flow.

  She grabbed my arm at the elbow, pushing and pulling it before tsk-tsking. She raised a hand, and another piece of long dark cloth that she had lying on the table flew into her palm. In my amazement, I almost missed her next words. “You mean not tight enough. I forget you Humans have slightly longer limbs.”

  She looped the cloth behind the chair and around my chest and upper arms. The Aether rippled, and the dark fabric layered on top of each other, the ends no longer visible. She pulled the last strap over my head and tightened it. The patterns on the cloth pulled in Aether, and as it did so, my ability to perceive Aether and Energy diminished.

  “What’s happening?”

  “You noticed? You know, for someone who grew up in a null zone, you have quite the keen senses. Your Perception must be quite high. These straps suppress everything—skill, Energy usage, Potentials; I can’t have you trying to activate your Marks by accident.” She held up a wood dowel. “You will want to bite on this.”

  “Can I change my mind?”

  She laughed at that, and the tinge of sadness in it did little to reassure me. “No. Even if you didn’t realize what you were getting yourself into, we made a deal. I want my level. Plus, you need it. You won’t always be able to rely on the good nature of others to stay safe. Now bite down.” Given little other choice, I did so. “Good. That should protect your tongue.”

  She stepped back. “Try to move.” I could barely breathe much less wiggle. “Good. That should be sufficient, especially with your strength.” Her hands roved over a few knives on the table. She lingered over the darkwood knife before shaking her head. She grabbed a metal one. She moved to my right side and examined my Mark. “I just want to remind you that this will be worth it, though I think you will find that little comfort in the short run. Some say this experience feels like a piece of their soul is being shorn off, and that is with a smaller piece.”

  “What?” I asked—or tried to. The wood in my mouth garbled my words.

  Even through the suppression, I could detect the ripple in the Aether. It was the only warning I had. I squeezed my eyes shut as the edge of the blade touched my scalp. Brief lances of pain radiated down my face into my jaw and cheek.

  This was no worse than a dental cleaning. I could—

  ”I would bite down now. I am going to cut now.”

  I didn’t need her suggestion. My jaw and body spasmed, and my vision turned white. She was right. Those straps had not been tight enough. It was as if she was reaching into my brain and trying to pull it out through the small hole she had cut. Time seemed to slow. Every millimeter that the blade cut stretched out over years instead of seconds. Before that endless agony turned to blissful nothingness, I made a vow: I would invent anesthesia.

  ***

  “You finally back with us?”

  I blinked as I returned to consciousness. Was I? A low-grade throbbing implied as much. At least it wasn’t worse than earlier this morning and a definite improvement from the soul-rending pain from earlier. Still, I had undergone surgery without any form of anesthesia. What the hell had I been thinking?

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  I am done, right?

  “Are we done?” It was more a croak than actual words. I smacked my lips. A dry film coated them and my tongue. “How long have I been out?”

  “Probably close to half an hour. It hit your body harder than I anticipated.”

  I tried to stand up, but the straps held me down, probably for the best. Just that subtle movement had made my world spin. Still...

  “A little help here?”

  “Just a second. I am at an important part.”

  Well, if I couldn’t move, at least my seat afforded a perfect view of her work. A tall glass cup filled with liquid stood on the table. Two large Aether crystals, one red and the other green, rested on the bottom. The liquid looked like water, but water didn’t have a vivid blue tinge. She clasped her hands around the glass cup, and her Mark flashed. When she removed her hands, a bright light emanated from the center of the two crystals. The light escalated in intensity before peaking and starting to dim. As the internal light faded, a vivid halo of the eerie, blue light formed around each crystal. Bit by bit, the crystals melted away, and the halos grew in size. Eventually, the crystal and the light they contained vanished.

  She leaned back, lifting the glass with a glowing, neon-blue liquid and admiring her work. “I am about to add your Mark. If you think you won’t faint and ruin my work, I can let you have a seat by the table.”

  After that display, my current distance from the action didn’t cut it. “I will be careful.”

  She reached out her hand, and every strap suddenly went slack and slipped to the floor.

  “Neat trick. Can you do that with any fabric?”

  I hadn’t commented on it before with my not-so-incorrect worries about being tortured, but it had potential surgical applications. Of course, did they even need surgery with healing potions?

  “Not easily. These have been enchanted.”

  I moved slowly, which was a good idea. As I lifted myself out of the chair, the throbbing increased dramatically. I sat back down and touched the source of the pain. The skin was now smooth; the tumor excised. However, I would need a mirror. I couldn’t detect any abrasion, but the Mark hadn’t completely recovered. The pain made that clear.

  “I used a potion on your Mark. It didn’t scar.”

  “Thanks. I might just scoot up a chair.”

  She snorted, and for good measure, she took hold of the glass container. I dragged the chair to the table, which was its own mistake. The sound of the chair dragging across the floor was a dagger to my ears.

  I should have just enjoyed the view from afar.

  As if reading my mind, she said, “It will be worth it.”

  Using a pair of crude, metal forceps, she took the piece of my Mark off a small metal plate. My Mark was small, less than my thumb in size, and yet it had caused me so much pain.

  “What are you going to do?”

  “Essentially, I will dissolve your Mark, creating a solution containing your essence. I will then bathe your null materials in it until they have absorbed them. Of course, you will need to come and provide blood to sustain the process. After a week, you will have essence-enchanted gear.“

  “That seems pretty easy. You’ll get a level for this?“

  She snorted. “I simplified it. The potential for things to go wrong is endless. The solution takes careful nurturing. The clothing needs to absorb the solution in a consistent manner, else the variance in Aether densities will cause the fabric to degrade quickly.”

  “So, complex, even if it doesn’t sound like it.“

  “Yes.”

  I smiled. She was still holding stuff back. It was obvious by the way she spoke. I had done the same countless times in order to explain medical conditions without overwhelming my patients or their family members. Before me sat an expert who could regale me with enough esoteric information to leave me befuddled. Except she didn’t, which earned my respect. It was late. My head still hurts. My body ached. In short, I was a mess. However, she explained things at the level I needed, not needing to prove her superiority. I just gave her a very small nod while making a promise to myself that I would return to pick her brain when I felt better.

  She held my Mark over the water, eyeing me as if waiting for a question. I didn’t have one until, of course, one popped into my head right as she was about to drop it. “Why metal forceps? And a plate for that matter?” There were so few metal items in this camp.

  “You noticed; now tell me why.”

  It took a second, but then the answer was obvious. “Metal is inherently inert.”

  She grinned, pleased with my response. I now had little doubt that this woman had taught in the past. “It doesn’t look like much, but you have to remember that Marks are the heart of your power. Even a small sliver contains everything we need. We just need to amplify it. Of course, that can also magnify impurities if we aren’t careful. In a perfect world, we would work on the Mark while it is still attached to the person, but all our methods have the unfortunate downside of killing most living things. That isn’t an issue when we remove a piece, but the chance of contamination increases. Non-inert tools just make that more likely. Even I will admit that the chance of that is low, but why take the risk?”

  Her comment made me take note of something I had missed. I cocked my head as I tried to gauge it better, but that motion sent bolts exploding from my temple. I squeezed my eyes shut, letting it pass.

  “Did you have something to say, sweetie?”

  Though aborted, I had still picked up on the anomaly. “Are you suppressing the Aether?”

  The whole room was devoid of it. Had she damaged my Mark? Except, I could pick up something from the vial.

  “My, my, my. So soon after all you went through. Here I thought your Perception was high, but it really must be something impressive. To answer your questions, not exactly. It would be more appropriate to say that I am blocking it. How else would I be able to ensure no contamination? We can’t actually replicate null zones. Too many items here are laced with Aether, but with the proper formations and enough power, we can prevent much of the world’s Aether from entering.” My eyes followed the direction that she gestured with her head, and I found her bare feet standing on top of glowing lines etched into the floor. “It is a drain to push my Energy through them, but,” she let out a mock sigh, “I will manage. Now enough, let’s get this done.”

  With that, she dropped my Mark into the blue liquid. For all the talk of being careful, some of the solution splashed over the edge. I gave her a look, but she just shrugged.

  “There’s plenty extra.”

  She took a metal rod and stirred the solution. Whatever it was, it quickly worked on the piece of my Mark. The solution dissolved the mass without fanfare. It just sank to the bottom without a bit of sizzling or foaming. Anti-climactic really—at least until small, then larger chunks broke off the central mass. Each piece left bright, vibrant strands floating in the liquid. As if in reverse of the solution’s preparation, the liquid began losing its blue glow. As it did so, the brilliant strands thickened. As they grew, they flickered red, green, orange—all the colors of the rainbow. It was more than a trick of the light. They were the sources of the different wavelengths of light. Then, the strands started to move.