The Hand That Mocked Them

"I'm not entirely sure. This sort of paralysis is rare. It's unclear if he has even been aware while he's been out."

"And...if he was?"

"Well, solitude can do awful things to a sentient mind. But as I said, it's unclear. We will have to wait until he is awake."

Hieronymus wrung his hands anxiously. He hadn't even considered that his master might have been suffering like that.

Kivvien studied a note that hung on the wall.

This one had to do with interchangeable limbs and how one might switch them out while maintaining nerve connection. It was an ambitious project and nearly impossible, but there seemed to be a solid foundation.

Kivvien shook his head and returned to the workspace he'd cleared to check on the salve. It had stopped bubbling. That was a bit faster than he'd thought, but at least this was finally almost over.

He took the salve and a thin paintbrush and went over to the old man. He dipped the brush and observed the man, choosing the best place to apply the spell. He picked the man's neck and began drawing runes up to his face.

Once that was done, he pulled out his wand. The tip was pulsing with faint light in reaction to its own active magic in the salve as the spell was already beginning to work. He traced the spell in the air to amplify it, and the salve began to sizzle. It gave a flash of light and vanished.

The old man stirred.

"Master Laurean?!" Hieronymus hurried to the table, leaping to try and see.
Laurean groaned and turned his head, yawned, then raised a hand to rub his face. "Urgh....what's this? What's going on?" He squinted up at Kivvien. "Who are you? Where's my homunculus?"

Kivvien gestured to Hieronymus. "Your homunculus is here. I am a mage and scholar of the royal court. Your servant retrieved me to wake you."

He sat up, head in his hands. "I did not ask him to..." He paused, looking back at Kivvien. "You're a royal scholar?"

He dipped his head. "I am, yes."

"You..." He took a deep breath, then scrambled off the table and dropped to his knees. "I apologize for the state of my workplace, sir--I'll have my homuncus clean it immediately. Homunculus!" Hieronymus snapped to attention as his master rose. "I don't know what got into you, distracting a good, educated man from his day and bringing him here when there's such a mess. But I expect you to clean everything now. Do you understand?"
"Yessir!" Hieronymus scurried off.

Kivvien sighed. "Sir, I am here for a second reason as well. I would like your perspective on some of my work if you'd be willing to provide it."

"I--oh!" He blinked, brushing off his tattered robe self-consciously. "I'd be honored, sir, truly honored. How may I assist you?"

Kivvien pulled his satchel around his side and dug within it. "I have made much progress creating an antidote to the dark. What I need is a mass delivery system that won't taint the oil so a single person, or a small group, can make it through the darkened lands on their own."