The Artisans Pride XI
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Twenty Eighth Day of the Second Month 294 AC
Carefully the scalpel was gliding through the flesh, the blade made from hardened Adamant cutting apart the leather-like skin without the slightest resistance. It was calming work for Qyburn, harking back to rote routine learned decades ago and reinforced by repetition year after year since then. He had prepared many specimens over the years. Mostly they were men and women, sometimes beats, and recently they were mostly much stranger fare. If the body on his table right then could be counted to the first or the last category was hard to tell.
"The pattern is quite intriguing, don't you think?"
His attention did not waver at the voice interrupting him. Though his hand did, the knife slipping the tiniest bit into muscle beneath. It was a tiny blemish, hardly noticeable, but it was there. Even if nobody else knew, he did and thus it frustrated him. Especially since he knew quite well that he would not have twitched at her voice a mere ten years ago. He could feel the toll the years and his work were taking these days. The trips between the frigid North and the sweltering heat of Gorgossos just to sequester himself into the moist air of the forge, a shock that even magic could only blunt, but not eliminate. The days and nights passing by without even what little sleep he still needed, cups of bitterest cocoa keeping his mind sharp in its stead.
A few careful cuts later, the piece of skin finally came loose from the Unsullieds chest, the arcane markings etched in fresh scars standing out sharply from the dark skin of the dead man. Meanwhile, a few feet away, Elaheh was clutching the much larger piece that had been cut from his back to her chest, pushing and pulling it around while viewing herself in a mirror. "It does not suit you," he quietly said in her direction while dipping the smaller patch into the alchemical bath waiting on the other table. "I wonder that you even consider it, given how the patterns are a sign of the enhancement breaking down and consuming the body."
She made a sound in reply that Qyburn could vaguely make out as thoughtful.
"I'm not so sure if it is not intentional. A life of pain and suffering, delayed for so long, just to tear the soul from the body once it can no longer be staved off." Slowly she stepped closer to Qyburn and took up the needle to sew the skin into its frame.
"Does it not sound more like a ritual to you?"
Briefly he considered the option, thinking back on other discussions with the woman on a similar topic. "It is reminiscent of what you told me about how you would go about transforming humans into Kytons, but we have no proof of such occurring with the Unsullied. Even if the losses were high, we would have to have seen at least a few successes, but all the documents we found were clear that none survived the breakdown of the infusion."
Again, she made that thoughtful sound, sewing on for a while longer while Qyburn began preparing the remnants of the body for disposal.
"Maybe we are looking at the wrong side of the event," she finally spoke.
"A soul is a malleable thing in the hands of a goddess, even more so when it resonates with her. What if not suffering and pointless death would resonate with the goddess of the Unsullied?"
"Making Outsiders then," he also paused, looking thoughtfully down at the face of the man on the table. It still bore a pained expression, even in death. He had clutched his teeth together so hard that they had shattered and even his jaw had nearly broken. The pain in his last moments must have had been so great that even Elaheh was surprised by its intensity. And then the devils had tossed the man into a pit to rot together with three dozen other bodies already disposed there. Now that fate would play out again, though his remnants would not simply rot. Gorgossos did not waste a single thing. "We should add that idea to our report. There is not much we can do to prove or disprove the theory with only the body, but it sounds more sensible to me then the flesh crafters of Baator being so wasteful with their pawns. At the very least, it is an interesting idea."
"Speaking of such," the Kyton responded without looking up from her work.
"I made some time to go through your proposal. It is certainly ambitious."
"I am aware of that much, but the more important question is if you consider it workable." There was a slight edge of nervousness to his reply, try as he might to suppress it. The idea was risky. And if something went wrong, no one would likely be able to help him. There was a reason he had given his notes to Elaheh first, who was far more willing to take a risk in the pursuit of her goals then Wisdom Vee.
"I agree with your assessment on the risks of wider contamination like what happened during the incident. The separated chamber should make sure of that even if the minds somehow manage to somehow interact with the pod itself or things connected to it." She took a deep breath, putting down the half-finished skin in the process.
"But are you certain that you can manage the connections while undergoing the procedure? The specimen you want to use was one of their leaders and even if the membrane keeps the modified tadpoles from also attacking your brain, there is no telling what will happen once you connect yourself to it. This is delicate work. Not the kind of thing I would advise someone to do on himself."
To many, the eyeless stare of Elaheh was unnerving for obvious reasons, though the former master had long ago put aside such squeamishness. This time though, it got to him. The Kyton rarely showed concern over such a thing is mortality. "I have made as many tests I could and divined as much as the wards upon Gorgossos allowed me to. It is not as if the process would work on anyone else anyway, so it does not matter if it is difficult. If I thought I could not do it, I would not propose it."
"And if you fail, you will die. Beyond even the kings ability to undo the damage done to your soul," she spoke in a chiding tone that was ill fitting to her.
Qyburn hand slammed on the slab of steel that was the table between them. "Then so be it. Not all that long ago that was the fate of all men." Heat had crept into his words and he regretted it for many reasons, but he would not stop now. He would not turn back. He would not let
fear dictate his life. He had seen where that path would lead and he had sworn to himself that he would never become like those small minded cretins who let themselves be ruled by their own laziness and base desires.
"How long have you been immortal, Elaheh? Have you ever grown old?" His voice was calm again, but he had no illusions that she could see through it. "To see yourself slowly wither, your own decaying flesh a prison, and grating pain a constant reminder of these things. Have you ever felt that? Do you remember it? Attachment to the meat that our soul inhabits is a trait of the young, the foolish and the cowards."
"We both know that it is more than mere meat you risk with this," she answered in a flat tone.
"If it were just that, no one would have any doubts about your plan. So why this path? If you just wished for a new body, I could make you one by tomorrow."
For a long moment, they just stared at each other. The Kyton would not relent and the old man was for once on the backfoot. There were things he just did not wish to speak aloud. But there was more answer to the question of 'why'.
"The head belongs to the one from whom I learned the basics of crafting flesh, living and dead. Not as a teacher mind you, but from the notes I recovered when I slew him. We had many a battle beneath Oldtown in those days and I knew that he was skilled just from seeing the servitors that he had doing his bidding. What I recovered from his lab was enlightening and frustrating both. Enough to learn much, yet so little that it was painfully clear how much I was missing."
Elaheh nodded along as he spoke, the implications of his work now much clearer.
"So, this why it had to be this exact head and why we had to travel to Oldtown to find it. You hope to gain his knowledge."
"Yes," he confirmed and hoped that she would not pry further. His thirst for knowledge as well known enough that nobody had ever looked too closely at the reasons for it, and he preferred it that way. "He worked alone because he researched something that even his kind felt was forbidden knowledge. Perhaps it was just a social taboo, but maybe he was on a path to a power that even the Illithid would fear. All I know, proven by one divination after another, is that he would rather annihilate his own mind and soul then part with his work. But if I absorb his physical brain…"
A sound akin to a sigh came from Elahehs open throat.
"Then his will does not play into this." Then she shook her head, returning her attention to her macabre needlework.
"I would never have taken you for one to risk so much for power."
"The power is incidental. This is knowledge that we are unlikely to ever acquire by other means." He took a pair of plyers and joined the Kyton in resuming their work, mostly so that he had a way to bridge the awkward silence as he ordered his thoughts. "I have become complacent, Elaheh. The lady Drekelis could easily finish what I had started and find a way to apply my work to souled undead. For too long, I have done what came easy and taken what I could, instead of grasping for the things that seemed out of reach."
She seemed to think about his words, but she still seemed unconvinced, so he made one last push. "What would you do if you woke up and noticed that your art has become stale and repetitive?" That gave her pause and he knew that he had finally won. "I have to challenge myself and take risk, or I might as well buy myself a manor and start to wax poetically about the works of others instead of doing something myself. That is not a fate I would wish upon anyone. If I succeed, I will once again walk a path no one else could in my stead and if I fail, then I will be dead, but I will at least not pretend to live for another few years."
While they had talked, Elaheh had finished her work, roughly dropping the frame with the skin neatly spanned in it on the table.
"I will give you my suggestions in writing by tomorrow and I will help you to convince Wisdom Vee when you are ready."
Then she left, leaving the words she did not say all the louder for it.
AN: We are nearing the finale of Qyburns path. One way or another.
