Radial Throughline

As if missing a step at the end of a staircase, Beatrice’s stomach flipped when she stepped into the office. Even from the hall, she could see the harsh white lights streaming from the little window on her door labeled Fifth Seat. She would have liked to be surprised, even outraged, to find people using her office while she had been out, but she knew who it was instinctively. The only two brazen enough to encroach on her space sat on the small plush chairs in the corner, steam emitting from the low coffee table between them.

The intruders turned their heads towards her at the faltering clack of her heels, with the one called Zuo Ci—the Third Seat—waving casually when their eyes met. “Forgive us for intruding, Lady Othniel.”

However welcoming she endeavored to be to her patients and colleagues, this was undoubtedly a breach of privacy.

Her worn mugs and teapot, stark against her ascetic and polished office, were being shuffled around as they poured themselves tea. She distinctly remembered tucking them away into a cupboard this morning. With a shiver, she cast out the thought of them searching through her carefully alphabetized collections. Even worse, she had caught the distinct chocolate notes of her favorite black tea—the same one she rationed ever so carefully.

“Doctor Othniel.” Her smile unwavering, she walked briskly to her desk, setting down the various materials she had gathered this morning from her patients. Correcting him was an exercise in futility, but pride was rarely a logical mistress. Despite the stubbornness of men like Zuo Ci, she wasn’t much different in the end. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Right. Another sin on my hefty ledger, my apologies.” He smiled, his lips thin and snakelike in the dim light. “Enoch and I thought it prudent to share some recent developments with you.”

“Not that there is any certifying board in this world to bestow the title of doctor.” Across from him, an elegant older man with a neatly trimmed beard sipped from one of her mugs, the corners of his mouth curled upwards. “Anyhow, wasn’t your license suspended even before your arrival?”

Beatrice set about storing each item and document in its rightful place, determined to ignore their heckles and minimize their disruption to her workday. The two members were ranked higher than her, and, unfortunately for the rest of the Ars Goetia, they threw their weight around without any sense of propriety. Or perhaps their rudeness was reserved for her specifically—a train of thought she quickly squashed before her carefully placed smile could falter.

“Come now, you’ll spoil the mood.” Zuo Ci leaned over to grab an empty mug—her favorite, she noticed—and filled it with tea. He placed it down to the side, inviting her to join them. “How will we share our good tidings if the little doctor kicks us out? You received news of Merlin, did you not?”

Of, not from?

While the particulars of the Looking Glass and the experiment in Lucenia were far beyond her field of expertise, Beatrice had a vested interest in Merlin. To be more specific, she was interested in the woman’s comatose sister, Ganieda. Could a lost soul be recollected? And had it been the mage and her sister’s tumultuous childhood that weakened Ganieda’s will enough to lose her grip upon her own soul? The outcome of such experiments would reverberate across all fields of medical science, not to mention give the First Seat the answers they sought so desperately.

While Beatrice had been allowed to give the ailing girl routine tests, Merlin had been precious with her sister. She rarely allowed more invasive experiments, and Beatrice was not keen to test their fragile relationship. While such overprotectiveness normally wouldn’t pose a problem, the crystalline sword the mage wielded was a more effective deterrent than her usual patient’s level of strength.

After she slotted the last folder neatly into her alphabetized cabinet, she grabbed her rolling desk chair and clipboard to sit alongside them. Zuo Ci wasted no time in handing over her mug, flashing a demure smile when his slender fingers brushed against hers. Beatrice felt her lips curl, and he chuckled under his breath at her barely stifled disgust before Enoch cleared his throat to begin his story.

Lateral Distortion

“I see.” Beatrice finished her notes with a frustrated flick of her wrist as Zuo Ci poured Enoch some more tea. “So Merlin dragged Ganieda along with her ‘til the very end.” And out of my reach forevermore.

Zuo Ci laughed. “Of course you would focus on that lost girl. Have you no opinion on the idea of a world containing something akin to a soul, or what it means for our mission?”

“Ganieda’s condition was a medical mystery. Patients like her are my mission.”

“Your loyalty to our cause is heartening,” Enoch gruffed, displeased with her reaction to what he evidently intended to be a shocking tale. “I’m sure your beloved madwoman would be elated to hear you say such.”

“You...!” Beatrice clenched her pen until its casing gave an imperceptible groan under the strain. “Lady Lilith would understand how I feel more than anyone!”

Enoch was ever the pragmatist, the most devoted of them all to the Proto Archive’s cause. He dreamt of a world reborn—or rather, restored, in his mind—and the man had held fast to this hope for far, far longer than his wizened features suggested. Despite the years that Zuo Ci and Beatrice had toiled at the Proto Archive, Enoch’s origins stretched back across millennia, back to the first Angels who descended on Homeworld. Still, while Beatrice understood the strength of will he possessed and even somewhat sympathized with his plight, it did not change her own goals. She had only gained a seat in the Ars Goetia due to her own ambition—her love of science and what it could do for people’s lives.

However difficult Enoch’s life had been, Beatrice wouldn’t let him walk over her and her vow to all living beings.

“Now, now.” Zuo Ci tried to appease the two of them. “We each have a valuable lesson to take from this venture. I myself cannot stop thinking about Lucenia and Wonderland, and the dark ‘reflections’—is it not eerily similar to the state of the Proto and Grand Archives?”

“I agree. It’s all quite fascinating...” The older man picked up the mug again, and Beatrice briefly thought about how he’d drink her out of her tea reserves if she let him stay too long. “We gained more than we lost by sending Merlin to Lucenia. We still have eyes within the Grand Archive’s domain even without her, and that little girl... Duchess, was it? She could serve as a fine observer in Underland.”

Zuo Ci nodded at Enoch. “Mm, I hope her eye for people is even a third as good as Parcenet’s. Tristan has been quite useful in her short time within our ranks, even with her... colorful disposition.”

“Don’t think I forgot, Zuo Ci.” Beatrice tapped her pen against the clipboard, trying to calm herself by changing the subject. Perhaps there was still something she could salvage from their trespass. “You promised me details on that young man in Sanguo.”

“Ah, my little songbird spoke of him too. It seems the mission to Sanguo and Lu Bu’s ascendance have become topics of interest amongst the Champions and their Gods.” Enoch's voice softened at the mention of his daughter, and he looked down at his nearly empty mug, one hand smoothing out his beard absentmindedly. “We might need to brew another pot; this is surprisingly delicious, Beatrice.”

“Ah, it completely slipped my mind...” With a serene expression, Zuo Ci leaned back on the chair and sighed. “Forgive me... ‘Tis another sin on my ledger...”

She sipped her lukewarm tea with one hand, balancing the clipboard on her knee and making half-hearted addendums and annotations with the other, pretending she didn’t hear either of them.

“Merely a jest, doctor.” After a beat of awkward silence, Zuo Ci held his hands up in mock surrender. Then he reached into one of the folds of his robes and retrieved a scroll, the item emanating wisps of red exia-aspected energy. “Look, I even brought a souvenir.”

Supravital Strategy

With newfound glee, Beatrice’s heels rhythmically clacked across the sterile halls of the institute. One of her assistant constructs kept apace beside her, its sensors scanning the scroll gently held in a metallic prehensile arm as Beatrice herself tapped away at a screen.

“Thank you for agreeing to perform this test on such short notice.” Beatrice looked over her shoulder, feeling so much lighter after hearing the tale of Jin Mara. Zuo Ci trailed behind her, eyes following the various assistant constructs flitting about them.

Zuo Ci smiled back pleasantly. “Think of it as an apology for Enoch’s rudeness. I did tell him not to brew your tea... but does he ever listen?”

Beatrice didn’t even care that he was lying to her so brazenly. If this scroll led to any improvement in the field of medicine, she’d happily swallow whatever bitter pill the Third Seat proffered. She answered his smile with one of her own before stopping in front of an inconspicuous door, which opened to one of her assistants after two careful knocks.

The nurse bowed. “The patient has been restrained, Dr. Othniel. Should we administer an anesthetic?”

“That won’t be necessary.” The young woman nodded in acknowledgement. “Prepare the ancillary room. I want our patient to receive a physical examination and a comprehensive metabolic panel as soon as the test is finished.”

“Understood.” With a final bow towards the pair, the woman walked out, revealing an elderly man restrained on a table in the middle of the room.

Beatrice handed Zuo Ci the scroll and a container with earplugs, the latter of which he rejected, before approaching the table. Once he saw her, he let out a soft whimper. “Doc, I... I’m scared...”

He had been a farmer once, in a distant world Beatrice had sown the seeds of a grand experiment in—a world where emotion and aether were nearly one and the same. The geriatric patient was afflicted with a rare condition, Aenean Disorder, and his symptoms very vaguely matched the description Zuo Ci had provided of Jin Mara’s. Although she had no way of determining if Jin suffered from the same imbalance of energies, it was but the first step on the road to discovery.

While Aenean Disorder behaved differently outside of the world it originated in and was much less dangerous here, he was already weak due to his age, and his prospects grew dimmer by the day—this would likely be the only form of treatment she could provide for him. If he lived, it would be a miracle—and if he died, then at least he had served a greater purpose. Either result helped build the foundations of a true cure.

“There’s nothing to fear.” She spoke gently, placing a hand on his shackled one, hoping to bolster the man’s resolve. “This will be a moment to celebrate. Today, you shall help create a brighter future for those who come after.”

“Alright...” The man shivered, eyebrows knitted together in an emotion Beatrice had no name for. After a brief pause, he nodded. “You’ve always been good t’me, doc. I’ll trust ya.”

“Thank you.” Beatrice answered honestly, giving his hand a squeeze.

She turned around to face Zuo Ci, whose smile was betrayed by the slight raise of his brows. She was used to it; her methods always appeared at odds with her concern in the eyes of others. Yet it was the unvarnished truth: She loved humanity enough to know there was no cost too high in the quest to end human suffering. How else would one eradicate the concept of disease itself?

After closing the door and activating some medical appliances on a nearby counter, she stood a few steps behind Zuo Ci with her clipboard.

“Alright. Please commence with test number one of twenty. Channel five percent of exia aether for fifteen seconds.” She placed her earplugs in before uncapping her pen, holding the nib above the clinical note paper. “Consecutively increase output by five percent and time channeled by fifteen seconds with each test. I shall call out when to begin and when to stop.”

Zuo Ci unfurled the scroll before him, its bright scarlet light outlining his imposing figure, his expression hidden from Beatrice.

“Begin.”




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‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Written by apricot