Author's Preface
“Six months! I was out for six months!” Casimir’s body jerked back up from its resting position, and his head pivoted to the left of his bedside, where Whitley stood.
“Lie back down! You are preventing the doctor from properly attending to you.” Whitley scolded him while crossing his arms.
Standing on the opposite side of the bed was the manor’s in-house medical staff. A balding, grayish-purple-haired man wearing a brown suit smiled and waved both of his hands dismissively. “It is quite all right. I am sure most people would have a similar reaction.”
“Six months of my life, gone. I can’t believe it.” Casimir looked up at the white ceiling in a daze. “It did not feel like I was out for that long. What happened to me?!”
“It is probably for the best you don’t know,” Whitley said bluntly.
“What do you mean—!”
The old doctor placed a firm hand on Casimir’s shoulder. “Please, remain still, young master. I promise this won’t take long.”
“My apologies.” Casimir remained motionless while the doctor pulled back his nightshirt, revealing a chest that he did not recognize as his own. His once well-defined core muscles softened and leveled out into a flat plain of skin and fat. I lost too much weight!
The doctor flexed his fingers, and they began to shine with a golden light.
A threadless pattern. I’ve never seen one done before. Purple hair… he must be a Pennyroyal…. Iris? Iris Pennyroyal? She was also a part of the rescue mission. She probably sent him here to look after me.
Casimir curiously watched the doctor feel around his abdomen. What is this? It is like something warm and ethereal is moving under my skin.
He slightly jumped when the doctor stopped to grip around his Aether heart.
“Ho, ho, sorry, I should have warned you,” the doctor said with a chuckle. “You aren’t used to this.”
“No, I’m not,” Casimir grumbled. Just hurry up.
Whitley raised an eyebrow while stroking his angular chin. “So does he have any issues?”
“No, despite the bizarre circumstances, he is in fair health.” The doctor moved his examination down to Casimir’s legs. “Although some of his muscles have atrophied from inactivity, that can be corrected with exercise.”
Whitley nodded.
“More importantly, I can sense that his Aether heart and Aetherian circulatory system are functioning just fine.”
“Is there any way I can have it removed?” Casimir asked.
The doctor was taken aback, while Whitley glared at Casimir with disgust.
Casimir looked at the doctor with desperation in his eyes, but the man shook his head.
“I can’t, out of good conscience. It is too risky, and I also can’t bring myself to destroy a valuable part of history. You are now the third successful Aether heart transplant case, and the first done on someone born without an Aether heart or Aetherian circulatory system. It is truly remarkable!”
“Good conscience!” Casimir grabbed the doctor’s sleeve. “I don’t care about becoming a part of history! All those victims I failed to save in time were missing their Aether hearts. And I…” Casimir began to tremble. “You’ve got to take it out!”
“Casimir, let him go!” Whitley ordered, but Casimir ignored him and maintained his grip.
The doctor turned to Whitley with a frown. “I must take my leave and inform Lady Pennyroyal of the good news.”
Whitley’s orange eyes flashed, and warm Aether entered his mind. Before he could resist, he found himself loosening his hold on the doctor and his head falling back on the pillow. Whitley grabbed Casimir’s hand and further subdued him into calm submission as the doctor escaped.
Blast it! Another threadless pattern!
“Thank you, Fennel,” Whitley said when the doctor left the room, and his cold gaze returned to Casimir.
Tense silence hung in the air for a while until Whitley suddenly spoke, “Are you done?”
“I..I want it out.”
“Don’t be daft.”
Daft. Casimir wanted to rage, but Whitley’s Aether continued to smash down his anger like a hammer. He eventually gave up when he found himself yawning, and Whitley let go of his hand.
“You want to risk dying on the operating table to get rid of a perfectly functioning organ, as a matter of principle? Are you stupid?” Whitley asked in a cold, derisive tone.
With his mind clear, Casimir narrowed his eyes and responded firmly, “If it was acquired from someone else’s murder, then yes. I doubt Sageman received that Aether heart through reputable means. I know he didn’t.”
“It probably was not a transplant,” Whitley said under his breath.
Casimir’s lips parted, dumbfounded. What else could it have been? I doubt even the Pennyroyals are capable of growing an organ from nothing. They need at least a piece of tissue to work with. I had nothing.
Whitley continued, “Besides, getting rid of it is not going to bring that poor soul back from the dead.”
Casimir snapped at Whitley with a defiant glare. “I refuse to! I will not benefit from the death of an innocent person just because a madman fancies himself a god.”
Whitley tilted his head and scowled. “Self-righteous idiot, what are you going to do when Professor Sageman comes back and sees that you threw away his work?”
That is right, he said he was going to come back for me, but still…
Casimir grumbled, “So that’s it? You want me to roll over and accept this like a coward?”
“No, the wiser decision is to turn this situation into something good. Become a Weaver, join the Imperial forces, and dedicate your life to catching him. I bet he welcomes you to oppose him and will be sorely disappointed if you don’t.”
Join the Imperial forces? I guess I can do that and assist my family in cases as a Weaver. But it still feels wrong. I’m still catering to his whims at the cost of someone else’s life. Casimir shook his head. “Maybe, if I… No, we can plan. We could find a way —”
Whitley raised his hand, silencing him. “Planning can only do so much. Think about this rationally. Even among the Inquis, the strongest among you possesses an Aether heart.”
Casimir sighed when he recalled being subdued by Sageman’s Aether. I was completely useless back then and had to be carried by Sully. Why did he have to be right?
“Since you are here,” Whitley began. “I’ll pick out a few Aetherian pattern books you can study while you are stuck in bed. Then you will practice the patterns on an Aetherian loom until you are well enough to manipulate Aether without it. Hopefully, by January of next year, you will be ready to study under a Master and obtain your Weaver license.”
Casimir lowered his head. “I don’t have much of a choice, do I?”
“No, you don’t…” After a long pause, Whitley clicked his tongue, then sat on the end of the bed beside Casimir.
Casimir looked at him, surprised, and noticed Whitley’s face straining to say something.
While squinting his eyes, Casimir cautiously asked, “What is it?”
Whitley sighed, “Minus the kidnapping and experimentation part, all of us Aetherians had trouble adjusting to our new powers. I was not happy when I received mine.”
“Really? I always assumed it just came naturally.”
“Don’t give us too much credit, we are still human.” Whitley averted his eyes. “I first became aware of my powers when I accidentally made my non-Aetherian governess fly into an uncontrollable rage. I was bedridden at the time and unknowingly projecting my feelings of anger and frustration on her.”
“S—”
Whitley raised his hand. “There is no need for pity. That was a long time ago, and I’m healthy now thanks to…”
Whitley lowered his eyes with a mixture of sorrow and longing.
“My father?” Casimir asked.
“No, Winston died before he could find a cure. It was the professor.”
Casimir’s eyes widened, and he stared at Whitley with a look of bewilderment.
“Your father and him were very close. He was even formally adopted into this family.”
“I know, it’s just… It is odd to hear someone talk about him positively,” Casimir looked away. But, I guess there was a time when he was hailed as a war hero, and he did help Dad make that miracle drug... Even so, he still needs to die.
Whitley nodded, and his emotionless face returned. “Anyway, back to what I was saying, the day I awoke my powers was the last day I saw her. She quit after she realized what happened to her. ”
“This does not sound comforting.”
“Just know, your awakening was tamer than most. You didn’t accidentally hurt or kill someone.” Whitley patted him on the shoulder before rising from his seat. “You’ll get over it. You have no choice.”