117: From Groomed to Tangled
Miriam was highly anticipatory when Enoch told her that he prepared a gift. The last time he’d given her a gift, it had been an appointment to the Collegium. They had caught up on the way, and now they ‘d come to a private room within the amphitheater. There was a large case resting on a table.
“And here… it is,” Enoch declared, opening the case.
Miriam’s heart sunk a little when she saw the gift. It was a prosthetic leg. It looked a great deal more beautiful that the one she wore, but that mattered little to her—it was a damn leg, after all. Considering the one she wore now had been personally crafted by her clan…
“Enoch…” Miriam said hesitantly.
Enoch raised a finger. “I knew that you would have reservations about this, but this was so special that I simply had to make it happen.” He pulled it out and handed it to her. It seemed light. “Please. Some things are better demonstrated.”
Miriam still wasn’t comfortable, but she had enough trust with Enoch to take his advice and simply try it. She moved to the table, removing her prosthesis and sitting down so she put on the new one. It fit rather snugly. When she rose… at once, she was surprised by what she felt.
“Try walking around,” Enoch said.
Miriam hesitantly took a step forward… and was utterly flabbergasted by the response that she received. This prosthesis…
“What the hell is this?” Miriam said, stepping around.
Enoch said nothing, merely smiled widely. Miriam began to test out the new limb. Somehow, someway, it responded to what she wanted it to do as well as her own natural leg. It bent, twisted, flexed, and stretched like it was flesh and blood rather than metal.
“How is it doing this?!” Miriam said with glee, then laughed joyfully. She could lift the leg off the ground and kick it, even—an unbelievable sensation. She lowered herself, then jumped high into the air with a pirouette. “Enoch, I… I could even dance with this!”
Enoch clapped once. “See? What did I tell you?”
“Is this some kind of new advancement in technology? Could we start giving this to other elves?” Miriam asked eagerly.
“Perhaps in time,” Enoch said with a smile. “But for now, it’s yours alone.”
“Enoch…!” Miriam laughed in joy, then hopped around excitedly.
Enoch leaned against the wall, watching her. “I’m glad to see I was right. When I knew it was possible, you were the first person that came to mind.” He smiled nostalgically. “After your mother first asked me to teach you Riverran, I came to see you as family.”
Miriam slowed, staring at Enoch. She smiled at the corny words. “Hopefully ‘sister.’ If you had a daughter my age, I’d be concerned.”
Enoch laughed. “Definitely.”
“Honestly… I always felt the same,” she said somewhat bashfully. “But I was always too worried that…”
“It was one-sided?” Enoch finished. “I had the same worries.”
“I… I never dared imagine…” Miriam turned her attention back to the prosthesis, embarrassed. “But how does this…?”
“It’s not new technology. As a matter of fact, it’s rather ancient.” Enoch spread his hands. “It employs the same magic that golems do.”
The word alone raised alarms in Miriam’s head. “Did you say golems?”
“I did,” Enoch said.
“But after the last demonic invasion, golems…” Miriam trailed off, suddenly trepidatious.
Enoch kept his smiling face. “I believe that there’s something for us to talk about, Miriam. When you went away to the Collegium, you said that your primary goal was to find a cure for the Black Bloom. I do believe that you genuinely would’ve succeeded in this goal. But if another person found the cure, I’m sure you wouldn’t be upset.”
“Enoch… what are you talking about?” Miriam said.
Enoch walked over to the table. “Do you recall Ninyra?”
Miriam nodded. “She’s your niece on your mother’s side, yes? We’ve talked plenty.”
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Enoch picked up a fancy pen, twirling it through his hands. “The Black Bloom blinded her in the womb. She was horribly disfigured. She lost the majority of her fingers, and also her foot.”
“…I know,” Miriam said.
Enoch walked over to a closet door, and knocked on it thrice. Moments later, the door opened. A woman that was clearly family to Enoch, with the same jade-like eyes, appeared. But the fact that she had eyes at all was enough to utterly shock Miriam. Her fingers are foot were still missing, but the horrible disfigurement and blindless caused by the Bloom had vanished.
“Hello, Miriam,” Ninyra said with a familiar voice, all smiles.
“H-how?” Miriam muttered.
“I couldn’t believe it, either… but they managed to save her eyes.” Enoch placed his hands on Ninyra’s shoulder. She took the cue and moved to another room to give them privacy once more. “I know that you’ve already figured it out, Miriam. You’re exceedingly intelligent, and like I said... you’re like family. I trust you.”
Between golem magic and a cure for the Black Bloom—something that she knew Belcourt was offering Cyril…
“…did you pact with the Hells?” Miriam asked quietly.
Enoch’s face hardened and he said firmly, “Never once have they appeared in my dreams, if that’s what you’re asking. Indeed, I purge myself ritualistically with holy magic every night so that it never comes to pass,” Enoch said. “But Cyril of Villamar approached me as an equal. An ally.”
Miriam stared at Enoch. An equal? An ally? Did he truly just say that?
In that moment, it seemed like the light fell upon Enoch differently, and all his features shifted. It was as though she was staring at a stranger. She had never seen him act like this; totally without warmth, with eyes solely of calculation. They didn’t seem at all the man that had kept her company when she was saddest, who taught her that humor and good nature was the key to coping with it all.
And because Miriam was with a stranger… she kept the words she felt deep inside her heart under lock—the fury, the sorrow. She wanted to cry out in outrage, but she didn’t. No stranger would ever see her lose her composure.
Enoch walked closer to Miriam, oblivious to the tempest in her heart. “In one single conversation, Cyril was prepared to offer me more than the Republic of New Riverra has ever offered as recompense for their monstrous crime.” He looked to Ninyra. “And the devils kept their word.”
“But what did they want?” Miriam pressed. “What… I mean… what did you…?”
Enoch shook his head. “As I told you, you have nothing to fear of corruption. The simple fact of the matter is, we have shared goals. I don’t for a second think that these demons aren’t worthy of utter contempt. But they’ve empowered us to make our own choices again. They want to overcome humanity.” He tapped his chest. “As do we.”
Miriam shifted on her feet. She began to realize that what she said here might decide if she lived or died.
“So… it’s just a practical alliance?”
Enoch nodded. “When the islands are cleared of the blight on the coasts, that’s the end of our association. And believe me, I’m not trusting them with the cure unilaterally. The devils didn’t provide it to us. They provided the knowledge. We developed it, not them. This cure was developed solely by elven minds, elven hands. No demonic taint has touched it. This was alchemy, not demonic power.”
Miriam exhaled as if dispelling tension. “That… that does soothe many of my worries. But what’s actually… why are you telling me this?”
“Do you recall reading that Cyril had actually been infected with the Black Bloom?” Enoch smiled. “That certainly shocked me. But what I also saw was Cyril, totally cured. I must say, he’s become quite the terrifying man. We met before, but this… this was different.” He inhaled deeply. “In exchange for providing knowledge of the cure of the Black Bloom, we were bid to send carriers of the modified infection into the continent.” Enoch smiled widely. “The roles have been reversed, though. We possess immunity. It’s the humans that need fear the disease.
“I’ve already sent several of these carriers out into the continent, but I wanted you to be another,” Enoch said. “You’re one of the few people that I can trust with this, and importantly, you’re also close enough to the most pivotal figures in Verne.” He held his hand up. “If you want to decline, I understand. That said, there are few I trust more than you.”
Miriam managed a smile, though her teeth were clenched. “The feeling is mutual.”
Or was mutual. Enoch… Enoch, what have you done?
Miriam hadn’t been lying when she said Enoch was like a brother to her. Whether he was simply in over his head, or whether he had genuinely hidden who he was for so long, she didn’t know. Still, Miriam simply couldn’t even consider working with the demons. She had seen too much in her brief time at Verne.
He’s misjudged me. I’m no longer the little girl that used to hang on his every word. That’s the only advantage that we have. The Black Bloom could be spreading as we speak. And if we’re going to counteract it…
“What do I have to do?” Miriam asked.
She came here to collect samples to study. Well… she would definitely be getting one. Even if it killed her, she would get what she needed to right this wrong. She would not condemn another people to the same misery theirs had endured.
***
Lucian had concocted an elaborate scheme to turn Miriam against Enoch. It was a grand design, aided by the most insidious of personages—Aurelia’s wicked machinations had fueled it, her Machiavellian mind… no doubt it would suffice to pull back the mask on wickedness. As Miriam returned alongside Enoch carrying a large case, he braced himself.
Enoch went off to talk to a few others, and Miriam made her way back to them. She went straight to Lucian.
“Hey,” she said, planting the case down. “Remember that problem you mentioned earlier, before we entered here?” She smiled. “I figured it out on my own.” Lucian saw a rage in her teal eyes. A fire. “I’m going to open this and act like I’m showing it off,” Miriam said with a happy smile. “But I want you to know that we’re in immense danger, and Enoch is the cause.”
It seemed Aurelia’s scheme was so thorough that Lucian didn’t have to do a thing.
