Chapter 15

  Doctor Rosen sighed contently as he finished the last morsel of his divine soufflé at the end of the most lavish dinner he could remember. Everything had been exquisite, from the courses to the wine pairing to the desserts. Even the cutlery felt better than many a scalpel held by his hands.

  As the last waiter cleared the room, the host stood at the head of the dark wood and marble table and announced, “Shall we retire to the lounge for some smoking?”

  Rosen’s toes curled at the thought. “Never a better host than an entrepreneur,” he thought.

  “Yes,” he readily agreed. He stood and approached the Lady Croft to his left to lend her his arm in the proper manner.

  Gwen Croft accompanied her father towards an adjacent door to the designated lounge. She hadn’t spoken much, if at all. Rosen was disappointed by the bland personality as he had been looking forward to meeting the enigmatic heiress. He guessed that she might not be in the best of moods considering the subject of his visit.

  “Was the food to your liking?” Samantha Croft asked with a sly smile.

  Rosen chuckled. “It was wonderous, Lady Croft. Thank you,” he praised as she rose from her seat.

  Lady Croft was decked out like a chandelier in so much jewelry that Rosen almost had to squint his eyes at her glimmering luster. Her arm weighted like a bar of gold with all the bracelets, bangles and rings. Not to mention her heavily threaded gown.

  “How does the woman manage?” Rosen wondered at Lady Croft’s ridiculous endurance. Were he a younger man, he would have felt emasculated.

  “Shall we?” Together, they entered the lounge.

  Rosen observed another room of glistening glamor and wealth. He believed the word was eclectic. Spill forth enough expensive things with a modicum of taste and they paired well enough. Still, Rosen preferred a more sterile and orderly interior.

  Samuel Croft was already pouring spirits from a tumbler in crystal glasses, beside a small glass honeycomb shelf that was sealed with various smoking leaves. Finally, there was a humidor of cigars opened invitingly.

  “Pick your poison, Doctor,” Samuel Croft announced, holding out a glass of gold amber liquid for Rosen.

  Rosen obliged, decisively going for the cigars which were clearly an exotic import.

  Cigar lit and ice crinkling on crystal, the Crofts arranged themselves to one side of the seating, leaving Rosen at center stage.

  Samuel raised a toast. “Now, Doctor. Would you be so kind to oblige us?”

  The smoky sweet whiskey and the spicy cigar soured a little for Rosen at the perceived command.

  Rosen knocked back his drink, the whisky hitting his throat in a splash. He set the glass down and took a deep inhale of the cigar. Rosen would not sing readily for a supper already eaten.

  But he would pay his due.

  “It is not my practice to discuss patients outside of my field and amongst colleges. But,” Rosen stressed, “you have been lavish hosts and most generous,” he said giving a small bow. The Croft bribe was quite the sum and all the sweeter that he had received permission from his superiors to reveal what he knew.

  “Before I begin, let me state that my recounting will consist of events that I have witnessed personally, facts that I believe to be true as told by others, and circumstances deduced with reasoning. I can tell you what happened, but not to the absolute certainty,” Rosen declared clinically.

  Samuel nodded. “Proceed, good Doctor.”

  Gwen Croft watched silently, seemingly unbothered by it all.

  “Allow me to be thorough,” Rosen started. “Before we arrive at the incident, do you know of the drug colloquially known as Fairy Dust?”

  Rosen saw the recognition flit across Crofts’ faces.

  “I see that you are familiar,” Rosen stated, exhaling cigar smoke. “I will not bore you to the compound’s origin, only that it was introduced eight or so years ago.

  “A glittering powder, Fairy Dust is a concoction distilled through alchemy using an opiate base. Upon consumption, it induces euphoria with bouts of clarity and inspirational thinking. It is an addictive and poisonous substance, but for its effects it was the vice of the intelligentsia; bards and philosophers, engineers and merchants, intellectuals and geniuses.

  “Some Academies and Institutes even promoted its use in controlled environments amongst their students and researchers.

  “In a fashion, it also became the leisure drug of choice for the rich and powerful.

  “The drug is not without its unwanted side effects. For you see, depending on the subject and the potency of the compound, Fairy Dust lowers inhibitions and impairs judgement. To the point that overdose addicts turn feral before death, losing all their restraint and logic.”

  Rosen sucked his cigar and let the smoke leak from the corner of his mouth.

  “Reginald Farley was a Fairy Dust user. I cannot say with certainty if he was an addict or partook recreationally. Nor do I know if he kept the habit a secret or that anyone knew,” Rosen uttered into the silent room. The drinks and smokes forgotten.

  Although everyone knew what had happened, they still couldn’t help but breathe in the suspense.

  “In spring of 1709, Duchess Sabina was away on delegation visiting the Duchy of Tusan on reasons of state,” spoke Rosen, drawing himself to attention.

  “It was during her absence that Reginald Farley was heavily under the influence of Fairy Dust, a particularly concentrated strain of the compound. Again, I can only speculate if it was intentional use, whether he knew of the potency, or that he took a stronger dose by mistake and didn’t know what he doing,” Rosen shrugged.

  “Regardless, high on narcotics and not in his right mind, Reginald Farley abducted his half-brother,” Farley narrated.

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  “No one knows whether it was premeditated, that Reginald Farley hunted down his brother. Or that he simply passed by him in an empty corridor. But with his lowly inhibitions and distorted reasoning, Farley hid Hektor in the castle dungeons.

  “In his madness, Reginald went on to scream and shout in hysterics. After which, he proceeded to beat the then ten year old boy. In his final spite, he forcefully fed and doused the boy with his remaining stash of Fairy Dust.

  “Perhaps in his only moment of rational thought of that day, Reginald Farley then fled the Duchy, escaping south.”

  With a bad taste in his mouth, Rosen put away his cigar.

  “Within a few hours, the child’s absence was noted and the entire castle was searched. The boy, Hektor, was truly unfortunate that day,” Rosen shook his head in commiseration. “For by nothing but sheer bad luck, the search party failed at finding the little boy during their first inspections of the dungeons.

  “The Duchess’ absence didn’t help with the confusion. Very soon people caught on to the fact that Reginald Farley had been seen fleeing and it didn’t take long for people to make the connection. That brought on its brand of chaos as the castle fractured into allegiances.

  “It was eight hours later that Hektor was found. Barely alive. By then, the damage had been done,” Rosen condemned.

  “The boy was in a bad way. He had multiple wounds and fractures, and suffered internal bleeding in his skull and gut.

  “Ironically, Hektor only survived because of the poison of the Fairy Dust in his blood which slowed his heart and put him into an induced slumber. Otherwise, he would have died from blood loss long before he was found.”

  Rosen loosened his tie and undid the top most button of his shirt.

  “I was amongst the medical team that were summoned to treat the patient. Doctors, alchemists, mages and wizards all gathered to save the boy.

  “My assignment was to keep the patient stable long enough for the alchemists to neutralize the poison that had leaked and spread throughout body. After which, the mages and wizards were to employ their healing techniques.

  “The operation was one of my most difficult cases as a medical practitioner. The patient’s body was failing quicker than we could heal it. The only reason we were able to see the boy through was because of the rare and exotic reagents we were given access to.

  “Even for you, Mister Croft,” Rosen gestured to Samuel, “the cost would have been significant,” he implied gravely. “Some of the ingredients even money couldn’t buy.”

  Samuel Croft’s eyes glimmered at the estimation of treasures that were used to keep Hektor alive. His son in law’s value increased.

  “Duchess Sabina arrived the next day and we were able to keep the boy from worsening.

  “The complication arose with the patient’s mind. We were successful in stopping the bleeding, but we didn’t know what kind of damage was already done by the aether infused poison. We weren’t confident in any diagnosis.

  “We didn’t know if the patient would recover. If he would have memory loss. Adopt a different personality. Possess motor functions. Have diminished intelligence.

  “We simply didn’t know. And we couldn’t afford to take risks,” Rosen gulped, remembering the Duchess.

  Everyone in the room couldn’t stop the shiver travelling down their backs.

  “Meanwhile, Reginald had fled to the Capitol seeking asylum. With her son’s life still very much in the balance, the Duchess wanted Reginald to stand trial for his crime.

  “The Crown interceded to keep the peace, sending over Lady Theresa herself as an offering for Duchess Sabina not to execute her eldest son. Such was her wrath that there were even rumblings of uprisings should her youngest not survive.

  “The nation’s strongest psychic mage arrived within days in Faymoren. Which should tell you of the severity of the situation. Lady Theresa is hardly ever separated from the echelons of the Crown; such is her worth and security to the nation. Yet she was dispatched to placate the Duchess.

  “We worked with Lady Theresa and immediately there were signs for optimism. By this time, we had kept the patient in induced sleep for a week.

  “Lady Theresa worked tireless within the patient’s mindscape, rebuilding and healing it with her magic. I am not privy to her methods, nor is it my area of expertise, so I cannot explain what she did and how she did it. She spent hours upon hours with her palms on either side of the patient’s head while leaning over him with her eyes closed.

  “Lady Theresa explained that she was helping the patient’s sense of sense rediscover its identity. I remember her comparing it to relearning a language that someone once knew but had forgotten over the years,” Rosen shared. “While I could not understand her magic, I could not question her dedication and competency.

  “For it took her four days before Hektor finally opened his eyes.”

  Rosen paused to pour some more whiskey into his glass.

  “My task completed, I was dismissed at this stage,” he admitted. “With the Duchess’ resources, a physical recovery was all but guaranteed.

  “I wasn’t present, but I did keep in touch and about the boy and his rehabilitation for the first few months,” Rosen confessed. “While he was well on the path to physical recovery, his mind was another matter.

  “Hektor was gravely traumatized. He couldn’t sleep. Had waking nightmares. Was depressed and scared of everyone. Paranoid, he suffered severe anxiety and debilitating panic attacks. He was terrified of being in the castle and was moved immediately to the city.

  “For the first few weeks the boy was constantly tended to and observed. He was interviewed by numerous counsellors in an attempt to bring him out of his shell.”

  Rosen was lost to his thoughts momentarily. It was a mystery that had eluded him ever since.

  Why hadn’t Lady Theresa been able to cure Hektor entirely? She had remade his mind, but why had she left it damaged?

  Rosen had asked around, but hadn’t been able to unearth anything definitive. He didn’t know to this day why the boy had been left to suffer, despite all the resources available to the Duchess to cure her son. If not Lady Theresa, surely there must have been others that the Duchess could have summoned to heal her son.

  The Crofts mistook Rosen’s lapse for compassion for his former patient.

  “Strangely enough, it was someone unknown who got through to the boy,” Rosen recovered in his narration.

  Sitting down, Rosen tried to recall the details. “I believe it was a foreigner by the name of Nazeer Haskeem who helped the boy through his pain by methods that everyone claims were as odd as the man himself,” Rosen couldn’t hide his unbidden curiosity.

  “Children are as delicate as they are resilient,” remarked Rosen, suddenly esoteric. “Rather than forcing him to confront his past in his rehabilitation, I believe that they aimed for Hektor to grow out of his trauma,” Rosen speculated. “In this instance, they were successful as the boy recovered slowly, but surely.”

  Following a prolonged silence, the audience realized that Rosen had spoken his piece and decided on his conclusion.

  Samuel Croft wasn’t willing to oblige the Doctor. He had paid and bought the man and he would get his money’s worth.

  “What happened next, Doctor?” Samuel asked. “How did the boy fare after the ordeal?”

  Rosen’s brow furrowed. “Pardon, but I did not remain in Faymoren for long after. I relocated to Stonehelm Academy soon after, where I was bestowed a teaching position. I wasn’t kept in the loop, as it were.”

  “Any insight would be appreciated,” Samuel insisted.

  Rosen looked towards Gwen before answering. “I heard that the boy had become overly shy and reserved. Distrustful of everyone. Emotionally repressed, yet precocious, he did not make friends his age and became of an academic mindset. The people he became closest to came to be his tutors and the foreigner.”

  “And about his awakening?” Samuel followed.

  Rosen frowned. “That is relatively recent and I haven’t been appraised of the boy in years. I am not the one you should be asking this,” he replied.

  “Say what you can, Doctor Rosen. Please,” Lady Croft pleaded.

  Rosen hesitated, but he couldn’t help but have a soft spot for Lady Croft in present company.

  “I know what everyone knows,” Rosen spoke begrudgingly, wary of peddling gossip. “At first, everyone assumed the boy to not be aether blessed as children usually show the signs of around ten years of age. With the Duchess’ lineage, everyone assumed the boy not to be so as he grew past thirteen without any developments.

  “Then one day, it was small news that Duchess Sabina’s youngest had awakened as a mage. But the boy is truly without luck it seems. The Ashcroft lineage did not take root and instead of being generously blessed by the aether like his mother and half brothers, he was insignificant in comparison with paltry abilities of physique and telekinesis.

  “That’s all I know.”