Touring the Castle

The potion brews, and the result is a neon cherry red liquid. Ellen presents the potion to Isaac. “This is a special potion blend of strength and vitality. It’s about half the potency of a potion for either effect, but it should be more than enough for you to get moving.”

Isaac takes hold of the vial. He looks at it. Nahida turns to Ellen. “Are you aware of anyone having adverse reactions to such potions?”

Ellen shakes her head. “As far as I know, the only side effect is fatigue when strength potions wear off, but this one isn’t potent enough. Bad reactions are unheard of.”

Nahida frowns. “So is Isaac’s condition in this world. It’s unsafe for Isaac to consume this medicine until we can be sure he-“

Isaac downs the potion.

Nahida immediately switches into monitoring mode. She only has access to one hand at present, so she takes hold of his hand, then presses her cheek to his carotid artery. She silently observes his blood pressure, heart rate, temperature, his oxygen levels, his perspiration, his breathing.

Ellen smiles. “The potion should last for an hour. If it’s effective for Isaac, I’ll prep some quick brew packs to take with us.”

Nahida had a number of objections, very sound and very logical objections. Consuming an unknown substance was beyond reckless. Allowing your patient to consume an unknown substance is reckless. Giving your patient an untested and experimental substance is reckless and illegal.

The word “frustration” comes to mind. Several words had come to her in this fashion. She was unsure of their source, but the words seemed to fit the sensations and chains of thought accurately. Nahida is frustrated. Another word that came was concern. This is also accurate. She feels the same paralyzing sensation she experienced during the encounter with the reanimates.

Fear.

This word comes to her almost as if it was waiting to be heard. Wanting to be heard.

Another word comes to her as she finds Isaac’s vitals to be nominal. Relief.

Isaac’s condition was not only stable, it was improving. The instant he imbibes the potion, she detects the magical surge flowing through his body and into his extremities. His breathing and heart rate become regular, steady, clear.

She stands from monitoring position and addresses both of them. “From this point forward… please do not give Isaac untested and unverified substances.”

Ellen puts her hands on her hips. “I thought you were on board with this!”

Nahida looks to Isaac. “I am ‘on board with’ finding acceptable alternatives to Isaac’s medicine. I am not ‘on board with’ using him as a lab rat for research.”

Isaac grabs Nahida’s hand. “Nahida… stop, please. I feel fine, more than fine! This potion only lasts an hour, I wanna make the most of it!” His voice has much more presence to it than usual. It has a confidence.

Ellen smiles and steps around to take hold of Isaac’s other hand. “Let’s get you up and about, okay?”

Nahida pauses for a moment. “…Then it seems it’s time for the promised outings.”

Isaac gets excited, shuffles to the end of the bed and plants his feet on the ground. He stands up slowly. Nahida grips his hand firmly but carefully. Isaac smiles wide and starts laughing. Ellen smiles with him. It seems they get into a feedback loop of smiling and laughing and excitement. Ellen shouts. “Come on! I have so much to show you!” She pulls Isaac along. His hand slips from Nahida’s grasp as they run off out of the room.

Alarm bells go off in Nahida’s head. This is too much too soon. She chases after them. The guards at the Princess’s door seem unsure what to make of this.

Isaac pants and has a bit of difficulty keeping up with Ellen, but he has never felt more alive. The sun shines on his skin, it’s so warm. His lungs sting a bit from running and his legs are getting sore, but it feels good to breathe, to run, to shout! Life is wonderful!

Ellen takes him all around the castle. She shows him the hallways lined with paintings of the dynasty she was born from, grandfathers and grandmothers with absurd counts of “great”.

She shows him the dining hall with a massive table. There are dozens of chairs on either side of this massive table. She takes him to the kitchen, where there are cooks hard at work.

While Ellen plays tour guide, a rabbity guest of the kitchen spots her. He waves her down. “Princess Ellen!” Ellen gasps and runs over to him. “Sunny!” She looks to Isaac. “Isaac, this is Sunny! He’s a courier, he’s been all over the conference, and he’s really good at running!”

Sunny looks a bit smug. Ellen turns to Sunny. “Sunny, this is the hero! He was summoned last night, I’m showing him around the castle grounds!” Sunny looks shocked. “The hero? Really!? That’s so cool!”

Ellen giggles. “What are you up to today, Sunny?”

Sunny takes off his hat. “Just got done delivering some messages, his highness gave me a sweet ticket, I’m cashing it in.”

Ellen puts a finger up. “Oh, save your ticket, have one on me! Let’s all have one!”

Sunny smiles wide. “Woah, for real? Thanks!”

Ellen looks at Isaac, then back at Sunny. “We’re taking a tour of the grounds for a bit, would you like to come along?”

“I don’t have any other deliveries right now, I’d be glad to, sounds fun!”

“Great!” Ellen rushes over to a couple of dwarven bakers, very stout and grumpy-looking. They both seem to have great copper-wire beards, but on closer inspection, one of them is a woman with her hair in a massive braid. She pesters them a minute for some fresh baked goods, and they relent. Ellen returns to Sunny and Isaac with three iced buns.

Sunny joins the two, and they eat their buns as they explore. Isaac hadn’t tasted bread like this before, it was hearty, dense, and textured. It felt like this bread could be a meal in and of itself, and the icing atop it was rich and sweet, a perfect complement for this breakfast bread.

They come to a door with a very large, very stoic full-plate guard. Ellen claims that the guards of this door are specially trained to never move or react unless there is hostility. They make faces at him, poke his cheeks, Sunny climbs up on his shoulders, they just make absolute nuisances for this poor guard for about five minutes. Nahida disapproves.

They walk through the garden. They admire the manicured hedges, smell the flowers, get lost in the maze, and toss some bread at the ducks in the pond.

On their final step of the tour, Ellen leads Isaac and Sunny to the training yard where her father trains.

King Harlan leans on his planted sword and drinks from a skin. He spots the children running his way, all smiles and laughing, even the sickly hero to be! He is caught off guard by this pleasant surprise. “Ellen,” he exclaims, “what did you do to work this miracle? Maybe you don’t need to train under Alfred after all!”

Ellen catches her breath a bit. “It’s only a temporary fix, lord father, it takes a strength potion and a regeneration potion to get him on his feet…”

“Then we have no time to waste. Come, boy, I shall teach you the art of the blade.”

Ellen and Nahida both step up and raise a hand of objection. “Hold it” they say simultaneously, Ellen with more gusto. Harlan leans back a bit.

Nahida locks on to Harlan. “I do not approve of Isaac handling these sharp implements. There are too many risk factors.”

Ellen puts her hands on her hips. “Plus, your wat of sword fighting wouldn’t work for him, he’s nowhere near strong enough to pick up a sword like that!”

Harlan laughs. “Neither was I when I first took it up! No, this is a family blade and a family style. I’ll be teaching him basic martial defensive stances for now, with wooden swords.” He looks to Isaac. “My boy, I have no delusions that you will stride the fields of battle as I do, you are not of this world.”

He kneels down to level with Isaac. “That being said… I won’t send you to the abyss unarmed or alone. I plan to be by your side, even into the depths. You may be the hero, but this is my kingdom, and I’ll be damned if I send a boy to fight my wars for me.”

Harlan rests a hand on Isaac’s shoulder. He wears a stern expression. “You’v proclaimed your resolve once before, and I respect your bravery, but the choice is yours to the very end. Not mine, not Ellen’s, not your maid’s… yours.” He stops for a moment. “Will you train to stand before the abyss? To stand in the face of shadow and raise your blade?

Isaac doesn’t hesitate and places his fist against Harlan’s other shoulder. “I will.”

Nahida disapproves.