The Demon Lord And His Hero

An examination of the body did not yield any notable results. It was time to cut him open.

Syryn reached out for a scalpel then lifted the man's head. He made an incision at the back of the skull from one ear to the other ear. The scalp was separated from the skull by peeling it forward. Now was the part he liked.

Rei handed him a saw that Syryn used to tap on the white skull. "Better avoid the bone dust today." It was an excuse. The alchemist just preferred using a hammer and chisel.

"Won't that cause the skull to look ugly?" The healer squeamishly asked when Syryn picked up the chisel.

"No, and no one cares," Syryn told the healer. "Is the decedent's family vain about the man's skull?"

That quieted the healer.

"Don't breathe in the bone dust or you might catch something if he really did die from the complications of a communicable disease." At this point, Syryn was just messing with the healer though there was minor truth to the statement.

The man stepped further away from the table.

The sound of Syryn indenting and opening the skull was loud against the silence of the room.

He was good at it, Rei concluded. The cuts were neat and there were very little bone fragments falling off the skull.

Syryn worked efficiently enough that the hammering didn't last very long, and when the skull cap was removed, the builder's brain was exposed to the eyes of three curious healers.

"Ah," Syryn softly said as he eye smiled above his face mask. "Tell me Rei, what behavioural patterns would a patient exhibit when there is focal necrosis of the brain tissue?"

The guard observed the grey tissue that was softer than its surroundings. The indentations on it were also more separated and appeared to swell slightly.

"Symptoms of seizures, fever, paralysis, altered sleep habit and personality changes can occur," he replied. If the other deceased villagers were cut open, Rei was sure of what they'd find.

"Correct. They present with all kinds of neurological deficits that match what we've heard so far about Cami's father."

"So it really wasn't a possession. We were all right," the healer said with satisfaction.

"Not confirmed yet," Syryn replied. "He died of an anaphylactic shock. Can one of you tell me why this could have happened?"

"A reaction to whatever was causing the necrosis inside his brain?" Rei suggested. "People can react differently to the introduction of foreign bodies into their systems."

"You're probably right but we can't immediately rule out other causes. Liquefactive necrosis doesn't always happen because of an infection."

"But it's most likely, isn't it?" Rei asked.

Syryn pressed the scalpel against the edges of the inflamed tissue. "Most likely, yes. We'll have to check his organs for infection as well."

It was going to be a long night for the three men.

---

When they were finally done, it was already midnight. The healer stumbled of the room looking green in the face while Syryn had a thoughtful expression that mirrored Rei's.

"Do we have to check the brains of the other dead people?" Rei asked Syryn. They'd found that the builder's organs appeared normal.

"Just one. It'll confirm our suspicions and we can finally show them proof that it's no ghostly possession."

"But we still haven't determined its cause," Rei replied. "If it's an infection, how did it start? Where? How is it spreading? And why specifically those people?" The guard was full of questions after the autopsy.

"Perhaps it isn't contagious," Syryn slowly answered. "Assuming that it's caused by some pathogen, it could be a vector-borne disease."

"Then we should start looking into their history immediately."

Dinah had already done that but to no avail. In a large enough village like this, how were they to retrace the steps of all the individuals at least a week before their passing? Syryn closed his eyes and thought back to the insects. It all started there. He had to go back and investigate.

"Rei, I'll leave it to you to explain everything to the head man. Let him know that the deaths may be connected by an enemy that attacks the brain. And if possible, we need to open up one more person to make a final confirmation."

"The hunter?"

"Maybe." Syryn didnt want to name anybody but he knew who was dying next. If they were lucky, it would be an older person and he wouldn't have to cut open a child.

Dinah was waiting for him outside the building, chin raised to the sky like she was counting stars.

"Dinah, let's go take another look at the insects."

She stood up from the grassy flat ground and patted her robes. "What did you find?"

"An infected brain. You were right. They weren't possessed by a ghost."

Dinah's palm flared into a bright flame. "What infection?"

"That's what we need to find out. The builder's brain was showing sign of necrosis-"

"Use lay man's language, please," the priestess interjected.

"Okay. A small part of his brain was showing signs of death."

"Was it rotting?"

"Sort of."

"Wow. How did that happen?"

"Could be something eating his brain," Syryn casually said it not knowing how right he was.

"Oh no.."

"Do you think we might have?"

"Maybe."

Dinah's steps faltered. "Syryn, what do we do?"

"We quickly find out what is causing the sickness."

"And if we don't?"

"Then you best make sacrifices to your goddess. I'm a demon so it's less likely to affect me. And worry not, I'll make sure that you look pretty after I've cut your brain out." It was too much fun scaring the priestess.

She hastened her steps and Syryn had to jog along to catch up. "Dinah, wait!" He started laughing at her hurried gait.

The rest of their walk to the forest was carried out in silence. The villagers were mostly asleep and it felt eerie being surrounded by such quiet stillness.

"What do want to see here?" Dinah asked Syryn when they reached the graveyard of insects.

"We have to check the extent of the boundary inside which these bugs have died." It was at this moment that a breeze wafted by loaded with the smell of perfume. Syryn pressed a hand to his nose and gagged at the sweet smell that seemed to get more pungent with every passing day that he spent in the village. This time, the alchemist had to take deep gulping breaths with his mouth so he could avoid smelling the flowers.

"Are you okay?" Dinah asked Syryn with concern lacing her voice.

"How are you able to withstand the absolutely rank stink of the flowers?" He complained. "I would much prefer to inhale decomposition. At least it doesn't make me want to vomit!"

Dinah looked at Syryn like he was strange. "I know that it smells cloying but aren't you overreacting a tad bit?"

"No!" He venomously replied. "Forget the insects. While the villagers are asleep, I will find that god forsaken plant and chop it down tonight even if it kills me!"

"Calm down, Syryn!" Dinah grabbed his arm and yanked him back. "It's their livelihood! You can't just break into someone's garden and attack their plants."

"Watch me."

"No, you stop right there!" Dinah pulled the teen back. "Why do you hate it so much?"

"Why? Have you ever eaten so much sugar and vomited it all out because your body could not handle all that sweetness?"

"No?"

"And then while you were feeling nauseous and weak from the sugar binge, imagine having to go through another round of sugar. That's what it feels like."

Dinah stared at Syryn in mild horror. It did sound like the teen was suffering.

"Wear a mask, Syryn."

"It's not enough to block out the smell," he replied. Nevertheless, Syryn pulled out Rowan's scarf and covered his face with it.

"Let's begin. I'll go this way, and you go that way." Syryn lit up his path with a bright will o the-wisp.

"Can we not do this tomorrow?" Dinah asked the teen. It was too dark to see properly even if they had their artificial lights.

"People are dying!" He self righteously answered. "Have some sympathy, Dinah."

The priestess rolled her eyes and had the urge to smack Syryn at the back of his head. How did she not realise sooner that she was dealing with a thespian?

"Right, lets get on with it," she answered before trudging off in the opposite direction that Syryn was headed.

In hindsight, Syryn should have called for more manpower. He was already a hundred metres away and still finding tiny insect bodies hidden under the thick mat of vegetation. Dinah was right. He stretched his sore back and began retracing his steps back towards the ball of light that illuminated a priestess hunched over the ground.

"Dinah, lets go home!" He shouted when he was near enough.

The fire went out and Syryn could no longer see the priestess. That's how he knew that it was time to make himself scarce.