Weekly Drabble #25: I Watched A Change in You (Patreon)

This week's suggestions come from uberdrops and EBB, though I didn't get the chance to use as much optical illusions as I'd intended, since the story went in a different direction. Anyways, I hope you enjoy this short story!

Anyone who gets the title reference will receive one (1) internets.

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I Watched a Change in You:

Upper-Inspector Helmut Tamsoric of the Norfin Cross’s Elementalist’s Guild dismounted his horse under the shade of a tall tree, taking a moment to fan himself with his buckled hat before tying the reins to a nearby post. There was a bucket of water there and the horse quickly ducked her head to it, slurping it up eagerly. Helmut gave his mount a pat on the neck before turning to regard the two-level cottage in front of him. It was just off one of the small hill paths that led up from the valley where Norfin Cross sat, into the wooded foothills that staggered their way over the region. There was a small barn next to the house, the door left open and a footpath led to a smaller shack further into the woods. 

Helmut sighed. There was no putting this off. He’d dragged his heels for several days already. Well, the sooner it was done, the sooner it was done. He placed his hat back on, adjusting it carefully and stepped out of the shade, heading up the short trail to the cottage’s front door.

The sun hadn’t nearly reached its apex yet and the heat was already nearly intolerable. Even the sounds of summer seemed muted. There were no bird songs, and even a nearby pond was silent of the chirping of frogs. The only thing that didn’t seem affected by the heat was the insects. Specifically, the flies. Good Lords of All, the flies. There was a horde of them droning around the cabin, nipping into the shadows of the forest before swarming back around the windows and doors and off once more. They were large ones, their dark bodies and wings glinting in the sun’s light. Their buzzing was surprisingly loud. Tamsoric waved at a few that flitted towards them, shooing them away as they shrilled and whined in his ear.

He knocked on the door.

There was no answer and he knocked louder, cursing under his breath. Geoff Mason was a gifted man, an expert in alchemical and etheric sciences and his skill was undeniable… but he was unbalanced. Even when his shop in town was open, customers were infrequent. He was arrogant, prone to dismissing his clients’ requests in favour of what he thought they should have, arguing with them and making enemies out of allies. At the Elementalists’ Guild, it was much the same. Few liked him, but even fewer could deny his abilities. Helmut was one of the few that could tolerate Mason, often as much for his daughter Sascha as Mason himself. Sascha was a lovely girl, with her late mother’s looks and gentle nature and her father’s mind and aptitude for elementalism. Ever since she had been little, Geoff had included her in his work, scowling and snarling at anyone who questioned her right to be there, while Sascha herself was always apologizing for her father’s manners and attempting to smooth things over with customers he’d ignored or peers he’d snubbed. At fifteen summers, she was probably better at diplomacy than any of the King’s ambassadors. Helmut had offered to help train Sascha in elementalism, but Mason had angrily insisted that he was the only tutor his daughter needed.

Helmut hadn’t seen much of Sascha of late. Geoff’s store hadn’t been open in nearly a month. Normally, Sascha ran it when her father was too busy, irate or simply couldn’t be bothered, but she also often helped Geoff with his work and Mason was obsessed with his current project. He’d missed the last four Guild meetings. “You’ll see!” he had declaimed dramatically as he’d stormed out of the hall more than a month ago, Sascha hurrying after him. “You’ll all see!”

The inspector rapped on the cottage’s door again. The flies buzzed louder, even more of them swarming through the trees. There was still no answer from inside.

“Mason!” he shouted. “I know you’re in there! You haven’t been to your shop in weeks!” Mason’s laboratory was in the smaller shack a little further into the woods, but whenever he worked there, he kept a fire going. Helmut hadn’t seen any smoke from the hut, and Mason was hardly one for socializing in town, so that narrowed the places he’d be considerably.

“Go away!” a voice shouted from inside. It didn’t sound quite like Geoff. “I’m busy! Get out of here, Helmut!”

“You said you’d have something to show us in a month!” Tamsoric answered. “Well, it’s been six weeks! Open the door!”

“Go away!” Mason shouted again. “I said I’m busy, you useless tit of a magician!”

The droning of the insects was getting louder, a massive swarm starting to rise out of the trees. Helmut swatted at the fat, wasp-like flies as more started to swarm around him, landing on his clothes, his face. Their buzzing started to sound different, taking on a different tenor, but Helmut barely noticed as he cursed. “Gods damn it, Geoff! Let me in! These insects are all over me!” They were swarming around his ears, the humming almost sibilant now.

There was a moment of silence, then came the thunk of a deadbolt unlatching. The swarm buzzed in agitation, lifting off from Helmut and swirling around the inspector. The sound of so many wings sounded like a child’s scream. An arm darted out and grabbed Tamsoric by the sleeve, hauling the inspector into the cottage, the door slamming shut behind him.

Geoff glared at the upper-inspector. “What are you doing here?” he demanded, before slouching his way back to his seat at the dining table. The main level of Mason’s house was an open floor, with kitchen, dining room, sitting area and fireplace blending together. There was a small raised chamber with an iron tub, and sink. Steep, short stairs led to the bedrooms and Helmut’s office. 

Aside from a few candles and a weakly crackling fire, the entire cottage was dark, with heavy curtains drawn across all the windows, shutters nailed into place. There were unwashed plates, mugs and glasses stacked everywhere. There were papers and books everywhere, notes scrawled on whatever surface was available. The entire house smelled of sick, sweat, sour body odour, urine and feces. There was mould growing on leftover food. Helmut drew a handkerchief and put it over his mouth. “Gods, Geoff. What have you been doing? Where’s Sascha?”

The man chuckled. “I did it,” he said. As the inspector’s eyes adjusted to the gloom, he could see Mason in better detail. The man had never been heavy, but he was nearly skin and bones now, his clothes hanging off his frame like a jester’s mimicries. His grey hair was all but white now, stringy and matted. His skin was oily. He hadn’t washed in days, perhaps longer. “I did it,” he repeated. “None of you thought I could, but I did. I proved you all wrong. In fact,” he put his left hand on the bottom of an upside-down glass. There was something moving inside it. “I did it better.”

“Did what?” Helmut demanded. “You promised you could make more Changed. I don’t see anything here.” Ever since the alchemical storms had ravaged the world, nature was not what it once was. The land had broken: countries wiped away, deserts covered in ice, lakes boiled to nothing, mountains toppled or raised. Plants and animals had been twisted into new forms, some merely strange, while others utterly horrific. In the decades that had followed the storms, elementalists had struggled to find ways of duplicating, or perhaps reverting many of these changes. To date, no one had ever managed to make a pure-threaded Changed. Those were the stable forms of life. They bred true. Abominations were monsters whose mutable bodies altered over their lives and if they had offspring, they were as wretched and bizarre as their parents. Every alchemist, elementalist had only ever managed to create the latter.

Months ago, word had reached Norfin Cross and Helmut’s guild that one of their brother lodges had managed to create true Changed animals. Whether it was true or not, it had eaten at Geoff’s ego until one teasing comment too many about his abilities had sent him into a rage. He’d sworn that he’d prove he was the equal of any other elementalist. He would make his own Changed, but the day he’d set for the unveiling had come and gone. The consensus was that he’d failed and been too ashamed to come forward and admit his folly and he’d be along once his daughter got through his foolish pride. Helmut was the only member of the guild who thought that something might be wrong.

“I did it!” Geoff snapped, rising from his feet, baring his yellow teeth, his hand still on the bottom of the glass. Helmut could see that Mason had captured one of the flies from outside, the insect buzzing shrilly as it leapt from side to ceiling and back again. “I did it better than any upland spell-cobbler or brew-mixing witch!” He laughed, the sound tinged with mania. “I just… didn’t quite expect the outcome.”

“What are you talking about?” Helmut demanded. “Where’s your daughter? I didn’t see your horse. Has she gone into town?”

“I used my horse,” Mason said. He looked down. “I used my horse and her dog and the deer and the rabbits and the birds we caught. I tried and tried, but the answer…” he gritted his teeth, his left hand tightening on the glass, his right clenching into a fist. “It just wouldn’t come. Then I realized. There had to be will. A mind to hold together during the Change. The storms… the storms were different. Raw power, done in an instant. Our work takes longer and an animal goes mad. It must take a mind to hold together, to give shape to the Change. That’s right, isn’t it? Sascha… she’s always so helpful. She got that from her mother. But her mind… her mind, her will. That was mine. That’s what I needed. She’s always been so helpful…”

A sudden chill ran down Helmut’s spine as he looked again at the neglected house. There was no indication that anyone else had been here for some time. “Mason…” he said. “Geoff… what did you do?”

“I proved you all wrong!” the other elementalist screamed, spittle spraying from his dry, cracked lips. “I did it! Me! I did it in a way no one else did or could have!” Then, as soon as the explosion was over, Mason’s rage subsided and he sagged back into his chair. “I just didn’t… she said she’d do anything to help… I don’t understand. She’s so angry now. But I did it. Shouldn’t that make her proud?” He looked up at Helmut, almost beseeching. “Shouldn’t it?”

In that moment, Tamsoric realized that Mason had gone insane. “Geoff…” he tried again, though he moved one hand carefully towards the knife at his waist, hoping he wouldn’t have to draw it. “What did you do?” 

“What I had to,” the other man said condescendingly. “Isn’t that how things move forward? I broke new ground and she helped me. She didn’t see that. Selfish, spoiled. Also like her mother. She almost ruined everything.” He slouched into his chair. “She won’t even let me out to prove it to you all, but she can’t keep this up forever! I’m still twice the mind she is.” he swept his right hand out to take in all the scribblings and notes scattered over the floor. “I’m working on something new. A way to control the Changed! Ha! Won’t those mediocre deadweights back at the guild be stumped when I fly in, carried on a bed of insects. Imagine Barnard’s fat old face going slack and dumb when he sees this! Just think, Helmut!” His mad eyes darted back to his visitor’s face. “Think of everything we could do! Now, I admit I was a bit testy when you arrived, but I’ve been rather stumped the last couple weeks. My research has hit a dead end because someone,” his raised his voice to a snarl, “is being uncooperative and selfish! But!” his mood flickered from petulant, to enraged, to jovial like a ball bouncing through the slats of a roulette wheel. “Now that you’re here, I’m certain that together, we can get past this block that’s been holding me up. You and I, Helmut. Just like the old days, eh?”

Helmut said nothing at first. He thought for a moment, trying to avoid triggering another enraged outburst. “How did you prove us wrong?”

The wirey, half-starved man’s eyes lit up at that. He always reveled in a chance to show off his skill. “I did something no one else could. Look, come and see.” He gestured with his right hand, waving Helmut over. He pointed at the upturned glass on the table. “Careful…” Mason cautioned. “It was a demon’s work to catch her again.”

Helmut leaned over, looking into the glass. In there, there was a dollop of honey and few drops of water, with a single large insect… The inspector froze as he looked closer. He glanced up at Geoff, who nodded in confirmation with a madman’s idiot grin on his face. There was a fly trapped in the glass, but not a fly. It was different, its body longer and smoother. Its six limbs didn’t end in the hooked pads of an insect, but the fingers and toes of a person... and it was a person, one changed by alchemical magic into something else. The flies outside… with a sudden sickening surety Helmut knew that they had been whispering – pleading – to him.

Sascha Mason looked up at Helmut with her new glittering compound eyes. She pressed her two pairs of hands against the side of the glass and in the same faint, tinny voice that he had mistaken for the droning of wings, she screamed.