Mark of the Fool

“So, this thing you’ll be doin’ won’t kill Hart, right?” Cedric was strapping the Champion of Uldar to a long, narrow table. He gave the thick leather bindings a dubious look, eyeing the heavy metal buckles. “What in all hells is this place for anyway; torture?”

“It’s actually an operating room: it’s used to do research on certain living specimens when they’re captured in the wild: you know, Ravener spawn and the like,” Alex said distantly, checking his notes one last time. “Hence… the straps.”

“Riiiiight,” the Chosen eyeballed a glass cabinet full of instruments—scalpels, bone-saws, brain-hooks and eye-gougers. “But er, I’m bein’ mighty serious here…will dis kill Hart?”

“Probably not,” Alex said.

“Probably.” Hart shrugged.

“Ugh, I hates th’both o’ yous,” Cedric muttered. “An’ t’think, I was wonderin’ if I could be next in line if dis works on Hart.”

Alex looked up expectantly. “You could be.”

“Er, no that’s, er, nevermind, I thinkI’ll be fine jus’ the way I—”

“Actually, you’re right,” Alex interrupted him, picking up a wooden bucket and placing it on the floor at the head of the operating table. “We need you for healing when I inevitably start ripping Hart apart.”

“Yeah, right, speaking of that, you got a gag or something?” Hart asked. “Might start screaming and don’t wanna bite my tongue.”

“Good point,” Alex looked at Cedric. “So yeah, you wouldn’t be able to heal yourself if I’m ripping you apart, man. At least, not reliably.”

The Chosen looked from the Fool to the Champion. “Y’both are bloody touched in the head, y’know that?”

“Meh, sometimes being crazy gets things done,” Alex rubbed his hands together. “Now, let’s get started: I want to get this done so I can go cure Thundar’s hangover, and have you upstairs in time for your date—I mean tutoring session—with Isolde.”

Cedric grinned at him. “In due time, friend, in due time. Once all dis Ravener an’ trainin’ madness has calmed down, I’ll step out wit’ her proper-like, if she’ll have me.”

Alex was a breath away from saying: ‘I don’t think you have to worry about that. She was already looking up marriage traditions. You should probably run,’ but he managed to resist.

“Can we get started already?” Hart asked. “Operating table’s cold, and I’d like to be either powered up or dead by meal time, please.”

“Right, let’s get to rebuilding your body, then” Alex rubbed his hands together again. “So, Cedric. What I’m going to be doing is pretty similar to a technique that Grimloch and Theresa use: life-enforcement. It literally enhances your lifeforce and body.”

“Oho!” The Chosen raised an eyebrow. “Explains why the pair of ‘em are so bloody quick on their feet an’ why she’s so strong, t’boot! An if’n it’s makin’ that big sharkman even stronger, why don’t everybody do it?”

“Yeah, I want a piece of that,” Hart agreed.

“Well, you can only use it if you’re compatible with it. What I’ll be doing is brute-forcing the first stage of life-enforcement using a little cocktail of spells to clear your body and lifeforce of impurities,” Alex cracked his knuckles. “When I’m done, maybe see Theresa. She might be able to teach you the real thing, if you’re compatible with it, that is.”

“Aye, I’ll keeps that in mind,” Cedric said. “So, you was explainin’ somethin’?”

“I was saying,” Alex continued. “What I’ll need you to do is use your divinity to heal Hart the second I tell you to. These spells aren’t exactly the most…refined, so I’m going to make mistakes. You’ll be our safety net.”

“I’ll be ready,” Cedric vowed. “Seems simple enough. When’r we startin’?”

Alex looked down at Hart. “You ready, big guy?”

“Yep, just give me that gag, and I’m good to go,” the Champion rumbled.

“Oh ya, I’m sure you’re gonna need it,” Alex went to a nearby shelf, picked up a sanitised gag and secured it around Hart’s mouth, making sure the wooden tongue depressor was set between his teeth. “Alright, don’t hate me for this. You ready?”

The Champion of Uldar nodded.

Alex looked at Cedric. “You ready?”

“Aye, let’s see this fancy, dangerous shite o’ yours,” the Chosen said.

“Okay, then let’s get to it.” The Fool placed his hands on Hart’s bare chest.

He cast his spells.

Mana to Blood.

Warp Flesh.

Then poured his mana into Hart’s body, seeking the miniscule fibres that made up the Champion’s form. Calling on the Mark, he passed mana through him repeatedly, exploring every aspect of his lifeforce.

From the Mark, images of the examination he’d conducted the day before appeared, helping him guide mana though Hart’s body. For a span of twenty minutes, Alex simply moved his energies back and forth, letting the Mark hone his skills as he directed his mana through the Hero.

“Alright, I think I’ve gotten used to your insides.”

“Mmmmf,” Hart mumbled.

“What was that?” Alex lifted the tongue depressor from between clenched teeth.

“I said, well that’s something you never want someone saying to you,” Hart grunted. “I take it this is where the pain starts?”

“Yep, could be. You ready?”

“Not exactly th’most comfortin’ thing y’coulda said there, Alex!” Cedric shook his head.

“Better hard truth than sweet lies.” Alex shrugged.

“I hear that,” Hart agreed. “Gimme the gag, then let’s go.”

The Fool placed the tongue depressor back between Hart’s teeth, and once again, poured mana into the Champion. Using Warp Flesh, he ran a mana current through muscle fibres, ligaments, and even bones, hyper-stimulating the tissue.

Hart’s body abruptly stiffened on the metal table—mana current contracting the very fibres of his being—limbs twitching from intense stimulation. The Champion’s eyes flew wide, his skin reddening with each heartbeat.

“Alright,” Alex said, “I think it’s—No wait, shit!”

Something tore.

Hart roared into his tongue depressor, his hands balling up in agony.

“Cedric!” Alex cried, cutting Warp Flesh.

“Shite!” The Chosen leapt in, both hands shedding a blueish-white light.He called upon a miracle of Uldar and pressed his hands to Hart’s midriff.“Oh, Mighty Uldar, I ask you hear the call of your servant and share your divinity with the stout-hearted soul before me.”

Glowing divinity swelled into incandescence around his hands as light flooded Hart’s body. Beneath his skin’s surface, dozens of injuries healed as the ruddiness retreated from the giant man’s skin, leaving him drenched in sweat.

“You alright?” Alex watched him with concern.

Hart shook his head.

“Should we stop?”

Hart shook his head harder.

“Holy shite, you’re a bloody pair o’madmen,” Cedric stared at the Fool and Champion.

“Yeah…I get that a lot…” Alex said. “Hmmmm, I wonder…” He reached back into Hart, feeling out the man’s muscle fibres. “Dammit, I was hoping for a shortcut.”

“Mmf?” Hart grunted.

“Well,” the Thameish wizard said. “Part of what I’m doing is hyper-stimulating your muscles so they tear themselves apart…at the same time, I’m feeding you with Mana to Life to lessen the pain while your muscle growth accelerates and you get stronger.” He nodded toward Cedric. “I was hoping Uldar’s healing miracle might make things easier if we used divinity to put your body back together, but…seems like the miracle heals you back to exactly how you were when we first started.”

He shook his head. “So we’d just be tearing your muscles apart to always put you back to square one. You wouldn’t retain any gains.”

There was a long pause.

“I…didn’t understand most o’ that,” Cedric admitted. “But what’ch’you mean’s we can’ts use my divinity to make this go any faster?”

“A little worse,” Alex said. “Until I get this right, we’re going to lose any progress we make each time you heal Hart.”

The Champion let out a sullen grunt.

“Yeah, I agree, it’s annoying as hell.” The young Thameish wizard turned to his notes, willing a Wizard’s Hand to cross out a notation. “But that’s the thing with science, sometimes eliminating a possibility is progress…in its own way. Even if it’s a possibility you were hoping for.”

“No offence, but science sounds like a load o’ disappointing shite,” Cedric looked completely unimpressed.

“Well, sometimes that’s absolutely right,” Alex said. “Ah well, that’s often how it goes: there’s no shortcuts for things worth doing. Alright, are you ready, Hart?”

The Champion nodded silently.

“Cedric?” Alex looked up at the Chosen.

“Hey, I ain’t the one bein’ shredded up like a piece o’ leaf in a buck’s mouth.” He held his hands up. “I’m just the one puttin’ things back together. I’m good whenever you’re good.”

“Alright, back to it then,” Alex placed his hands on Hart’s chest.

He called on the Mark, letting its images wash over him, searching out what he’d done well previously.

Then, he ran the mana current through Hart’s body again.

The Champion stiffened, his skin turning bright red and a choking sound escaping his throat. Alex adjusted the current with care using warp flesh, searching for the right balance of hyper-stimulation.

Another tearing sound.

Hart jerked in his restraints.

“Shite!” Cedric was at his side in an instant, healing divinity knitting the Champion’s body. Hart’s breathing calmed and Cedric let out a deep breath.

“Y’sure y’wanna keep goin’, mate? This shite looks brutal,” Cedric asked the fellow Hero.

“Mo’,” came Hart’s muffled, determined, reply.

“Jeez, you’re tough,” Alex said, admiringly. “Alright, again then.”

He channelled his mana current through Hartand—again—something precious tore,Cedric called on his healing miracle. But the Champion again nodded for the Thameish wizard to keep going. Again and again, Alex passed the mana current through Hart, always tearing something within minutes. But each time, he made progress, advancing a bit more before hearing that now familiar tearing sound.

“We’re getting there,” Alex said, watching more of Uldar’s healing light pass into the Champion.

“Say…can’t we just, I dunno, give ‘im a bunch o’ booze or somethin’?” Cedric asked, his eyes pleading. “Somethin’ t’put ‘im t’sleep, or at least kill the pain.”

Alex sighed. “I thought of that. There’s a sleeping draught I could brew, and there’s herbs and tonics that dulls the nerves and reduces pain…but there’s a couple of problems with that,” he focused on Hart, monitoring his condition. “One of the reasons this is so hard is because I’m working semi-blind here. When I did it to myself, I could feel it the moment I did something right, or the moment I did something wrong.”

He tapped the table beside Hart. “But the problem right now is that I can’t feel what you’re feeling, so I’ve got to rely on whatever my spells are telling me—which isn’t all that much—and whatever reactions you’re having. If you’re asleep, that’s one less set of reactions for me to go by, and more chances that I’ll really mess something up. The other thing is—if you’re asleep—you can’t tell me to stop. And the moment you say stop, this ends.”

“Doth shtop,” Hart growled, resolve filling his large eyes.

Cedric threw up his hands. “You’re bloody ‘right ‘round the bend, mate. Both o’ yous.”

“For what it’s worth, you’re going to feel like a new man when we’re done,” Alex began pouring mana into the Champion once again with care.

Heartbeats passed.

Heartbeats turned to minutes.

Minutes to an hour.

An hour to two.

Over and over, Alex ripped Hart’s body apart with Warp Flesh, poured vigour into it with Mana to Life, and had Cedric heal the injuries he’d caused. And he caused many over the slow passage of time.

Yet, each time, the damage took longer to happen. Each time, his control over Hart’s flesh grew more precise.

After two and a half hours, his control had finally reached the point of being fine-tuned enough for Cleanse Flesh…

And so another hour passed.

Then another two.

Then three.

All three young men had fallen silent, consumed by determination and concentration. Alex was in awe of Hart’s resilience: even with Cedric’s healing miracles supporting him, there was little doubt in the Thameish wizard’s mind that the process would have killed most people he would have tried it on.

Only the Champion’s bottomless well of stamina kept his heart beating and his body from collapsing into lifelessness as Alex’s mana lashed his every fibre over and over again.

With the Mark’s support—and their perseverance—the mana currents passing through Hart’s body finally balanced. Life to Mana fed him, flooding him with renewed vitality, and with Cleanse Flesh washing through every fibre…

…the giant of a man gave an immense shudder.

A stench filled the air.

A sudden ripping noise cut the air as Hart’s muscles flexed, then his limbs burst free of his restraints. The Champion flipped onto his side, tearing the gag from his mouth and retching onto the floor.

A stream of black gunk poured from his lips, splattering on the stone.

“Oh shite!” Cedric shouted, charging forward with Uldar’s light shimmering around his hands. “Are y’dyin’?”

“No!” Alex stopped the Chosen. “No, no, no…the exact opposite of dying!” A huge smile took over his face. “It worked! His body’s cleansing itself of all the impurities that it was holding onto: his lifeforce’ll be a lot stronger after this!”

Raising a trembling hand, the Champion gave them a thumbs up while he spewed foamy, black filth on the floor.

“Shit, Hart, use the bucket!” Alex grabbed the pail, quickly shoving it below the stream gushing from the Champion’s mouth. “Congratulations Hart, your new path to power begins!” He looked up at Cedric. “What do you think?”

“I think it’s stinkin’ like manure in here, and that you’s both are cracked!” Cedric shook his head, one hand pinching his nose. “I mean, I hopes this does wonders for y’Hart, but you’re bloody cracked. And ugh!” The Chosen’s face scrunched up. “That stuff bloody stinks!”

Hart hawked out a wad of slime then grinned, showing now black-stained teeth. “Let’s see you call me cracked when I’m tearing demons in half with my bare hands.”

He gagged, cringing away from the bucket. “But you’re right, that stuff really does stink.”