A Gentleman’s Guide to Fantastic Beasts Chp 5 (Patreon)

A Gentleman’s Guide to Fantastic Beasts Chp 5

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Commissioned by Citino

Wordcount: 2500

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Treatment of malnutrition is an intricate affair. The first requirement is the evaluation of the malnutrition in question. Survivors of famines in my former existence recount having difficulty eating rich foodstuffs, often expelling it laboriously from their already-aggrieved bodies due to the food’s incompatibility with their withered form. Treatment is not as simple as providing foodstuffs to the individual and forcibly having them consume it, but giving them the correct foodstuff, at the right portion, and at the correct time. 

I suppose that I ought to be grateful that all the races of this world adhered to similar diets, despite their differing physiologies.

However, the As’Kari diet is difficult to consume for most. The various creatures that are hunted or kept by the tribe are insectoid in nature. Their flesh resembles that of shelled creatures from the ocean’s depths when cooked. They do not have the bones or cartilage necessary to compose a sturdy broth that congeals into a jelly-like substance when cooled. The best that I could compose, with my limited knowledge of the culinary arts, was a broth composed of a multitude of roasted shells with mincing’s of the creature’s flesh boiled with all the vegetables and edible flora that I could gather and purchase, then very lightly spiced with salt. 

The result is a concoction that reminded me fairly of a stew made of plentiful clams and shellfish. Not the ideal composition, definitely lacking in the richness of nutrition of a similar stock composed of cows and chickens, but it was more than capable. A bout of dysentery that threatened the village with deaths via dehydration and lack of nutrition was stalled by the soup, until all could be healed by more esoteric means. Its success was so great that Kan’Is stipulated that it be available at all times, so it had merit, despite not being the finest I could utilize. 

Regardless of its efficacy, however, it was useless if it were not imbibed. 

…

The smallest, stoutest of the group, who spoke the tongue of the As’Kari with a voice like churning rocks, was the only one of his group who drank from his bowl of broth. The rest of the group sat in the cots brought for them, but stayed away. Kan’Is’s insistence that I was of no threat to them had some effect. There were no accusatory stares and misbegotten fears, yet trust could not be easily earned. Their eyes darted around my workshop, glancing at my creations and anatomical displays like creatures that saw only witchcraft and the unknown. 

They needed aid, and I could not fault them for their ignorance, so I will help them however I can.

For now, however, I would ensure that the one partaking in treatment would continue to do so. 

I had him explain his people’s affliction and the nature of the disease he wished for me to treat.

The more I heart of his people and the troubles they faced… the more I became convinced that I needed to go with him and behold the miracle of which he spoke. 

A people with such fantastical healing abilities that their bodies could become overburdened and immobilized by their own form’s attempts to protect them. The idea seemed crazed, and it would be in a world where the laws of nature was rigid, but such is not the case. This is a world of monstrous creatures, strange miracles, and insects that grew to such heights that they could carry civilizations upon their backs across an immense dessert teeming with mystery. That a people would adapt to the environment in such a manner, that their forms would heal rampantly after continued injury, practically paled in comparison to all that I have studied in all my days. 

Yet, I curbed my curiosity in favor of gaining more information, which Kan’Is could hopefully verify at a later date.

“Explain how your people tend to wounds again.”

“Again? Again. Ah. Again.” The stocky, short being knew many languages, but spoke that of the As’Kari with only rudimentary proficiency. The gentle intonations of the As’Kari, as well as the focus on tone, were also lost to his brutal accent. Years spend within tunnels, apparently yelling over the din of stone and civilization, remade his voice into something kin to the echo of stones rolling down a cliffside. “We cut. We tear out. Unneeded flesh must go or body is taken. Spirit will be lost to flesh.”

As he reiterated imself, I took the time to write upon paper what he described. It began with an arm similar to his own, but less emaciated, and far more muscled. Then, upon it I inscribed a wound. I showed it to him. When he confirmed is understanding of it, I crafted what he described. The overgrowth of flesh, like tumors, coming forth from the wound. Strainds of muscle becoming overgrown. Vessels of blood coursing to pustules filled with unneeded flesh. A bulging, veined abominate bereft of skin sat upon the arm.

“Yes. That is! Correct!” He nearly stood and tossed aside his soup, but I held him fast with my charcoal-holding hand. Excitement threatened to overcome him. Glittering lights of glee shone within a sunken onyx gaze. Rows of white teeth glittered between emaciated, dry lips. His spirit was strong and growing stronger, but his body remained frail and starved by his enslavement. How he managed to fight against the monsters that assaulted the airship after it fell was beyond me. Perhaps, he could also call upon the depths of his soul for more power? Questions for a later, more appropriate time. “Happens. That is what happens! So, we slow King until he falls asleep!”

And, that is the crux of the matter.

Sleep.

How could sleep slow an incredibly adroit, far-too-efficient means of healing? Rest, consumption of nutrition, and relief from stresses cause the body to become more adroit at repairing what is broken. Exertion, malnutrition, and continued over-encumbrance of the mind slowed the process recovery from not only illness, but also injury. Therefore, if their great king is put to rest, according to my understanding of physiology, the man in question ought to have become an immense mountain of flesh… yet in accordance to the short creature’s stories the legendary king of his people has persisted through the ages in perfect health, prayed to and visited by his people, and looked over by a brotherhood of adroit users of what could only be called magic.

To consider his story a falsehood, an over-intricate farce, is most certainly an option. My years in my prior world, my experiences and learnings before my end in the battlefield, has served me with distinction and without reason for doubt. All that I have brought forth has allowed me to conquer the strange new creatures of the Great Dessert one-by-one, while allowing me to care for individuals who wounds were considered mortal, as well as provide the entirety of the As’Kari a system of mathematics and writing tools that will surely elevate them as a people. There is no reason for me to doubt in my knowledge in the past, for it has served me well, besides the words of the man before me. 

The words of a starved, sickly man filled with joy with every mote of understanding I gain towards his case. 

Therefore, I must reconsider all I knew from this world against my last.

Naturally, the grandest deviation was the existence of power beyond that of mortal men and women. It is an unnamed power amongst the As’Kari, merely what separates the strong from the weak depending on how much one can utilize and nourish within their forms. It is a mystery that cannot be studied, yet is utilized without hesitation to grow in strength, to become large creatures with skin that break swords, and apparently confer a burdensome ability to heal within certain, different species similar to human beings. Not only that, but it allows the growth of simple creatures into the size of mountains, for dangerous predators with inexplicable abilities removed from evaluation to arise, and for wooden ships to fly through the sky carrying multitudes, weapons, and supplies for long journeys. 

Against those considerations, my renowned knowledge from my previous life pales. It pales not only because of what I experienced, but because of what was all around me. I’d carved apart every beast I could get my hands upon, diagrammed them, and investigated them. Darwin’s theories were apparent in some portions of the beasts, but something else is at work amongst them all, that has them develop freakish abilities that they use to terrorize all that stand against them. Then, of course, is my own ability to hasten the healing of wounds, as well as seal them shut with needles that ought to not pierce the skin of the creature I was tending to. 

In the face of all those considerations, my insistence upon following the conventional is not only foolish, but outright harmful. Precedence has it’s place, but in this world what I have seen and experienced is of greater of greater value and consideration against the mysteries and challenges that I must confront. As Doyle wrote in his famed detective’s stead: once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth. This world in its entirety can frankly fit within that singular phrase, so who was I too denounce a man as fervent as the one before me?

“I see. Now tell me more.”

I will go to Kan’Is later to verify all that I hear now. 

And, if it is all true, then I will go to this sleeping king and do my utmost to mend him, so that his body is not overcome by a terrible, malignant disease. Perhaps, in the process, I will also save an entire people from a malady for which I could possibly be their only hope.

The reason why I shall do it?

Because I am a physician with the ability to remove an illness that besets an entire people.

That is all. 

…

The short, stocky creature attempted to stay awake, but the increase in nutrition, as well as the relief he felt combined to put him to slumber. He laid comfortably and quietly upon one of the cots I had asked to be brought. His fellow, former slaves were also deeply slumbering, due to their bodies finally becoming calm and fed… except for one. 

The one that walked quietly, with purpose, and with the easy grace of a being born for battle. She reminded me of my teacher and mentor, while I was in Kan’Is’s care. Sa’Uri walked as she did, gliding upon the sands barely disturbing grains, much like a predator stalking prey. Despite their similarities, there was a key difference between my white-robed, battle-crazed mentor and the blonde, silk-clad, and alien creature barely similar to a human being.

But all the difference I cared about was that she sought to protect her fellows, instead of seek out opponents.

Kan’Is would be slighted by her actions. The guard who delivered clothes for them in the middle of the night, for them to use upon awakening, had stiffed and bit his tongue when he saw her awake at watch. Her actions slighted the entirety of the As’Kari, spitting upon the hospitality she and her people were offered, as she showed blatant distrust to those who fed her, clothed her, and protected her bereft of any cost. However, the chieftain of the tribe, their Shu’Ann, anticipated this and chose well. Battle-hungry and impatient he might be, Kan’Is was more than capable of assigning the correct individual to the proper task, thus the guard did not say a word. 

So, the human-like creature observed me, as I studied what I gathered from the leader of her group, and endeavored to create something of substance to present once they were no longer emaciated and weak. Kan’Is’s interests in me were obvious, so I could not go to his court without a valid case. I will have to present my argument in a manner that would make him seem cruel and capricious, therefore whatever discourse I offered fundamentally required a plan to solve to the crisis that would have be leave the tribe. 

Otherwise, if I was bereft of any solution to the presented problem, he could quell all my arguments with simple, imperial decree… and I would be forced to abandon the tribe and be branded an outcast. The chance of the As’Kari abandoning all I taught them were slim, but no hesitation could be afforded in all that I have given to the tribe. If it is all questioned, especially all that I leave behind regarding to the beasts that prowl the shifting sands, then lives will be lost and their blood will be on my hands. 

Thus, I burned oil late in the night, surrounded by patients, and my work with a single companion within my tent and two guards outside. On my table, I wrote with charcoal upon paper, detailing my plans, assumptions, and conjectures, as well as going over the details I’d extracted from conversation alone. 

If I were to close my eyes, and ignore the scent of spice and sand in the air, I would be able to find myself back in a mahogany desk, holding a fountain pen, while I sat in a ward filled with patients who I had to tend to in the evening hours in the earliest days of my profession. Long nights with pen and paper, with patients who required supervision but not true care, and a incessant glare upon my person as I wrote and seemingly ignored all else… indeed, the experience brought forth a deep, comforting, and firm warmth within the chest. 

The weight of a past that urged me gently, but firmly onward on my current course. 

Alas for me, the night was determined not to be kind.

A low roar resounded through the night. Not that of a beast, but that of horns and the throats of men. 

I rose and called forth my tools even before the guard entered the tent.

“Call for and protect those who will see my belongings to safety. See these people within Shu’Ann’s palace.” The man froze and his throat caught behind the cloth that covered it. I realized my mistake the moment my gaze turned to the blonde creature. She was also frozen in place. My emotions have gotten the better of me. The fear of battle, much like a torrent of chilling frost, had not only filled me veins with ice but also come forth from my form. My metal tools were cool to the touch, the flame upon my table waned, and mist left my lungs. The dessert nights are already cold, so in my presence and because of my lack of courage, I have harmed both of them. Shock from cold and unearned fear, but harm nonetheless. I reigned in both my power and my fear with a single, steadying breath before resuming my preparations. “Tell your fellow guard to awaken the garrison. The patrols should have alerted us, but they have not. Tell all those who listen that t hose who have come are strong.”

With those last words, I left the warm dream I’d enjoyed for a fleeting moment and returned to the nightmare that shall forever and always plague me.

War has come once again.