World of Agatha - 23 Surgery

Leaving the box open, Morgana laid down in an improvised bed and closed her eyes.

“Mind Transfer.”

With a simple incantation, the dark wizard’s soul manifested on the sleeping duplicate.

It was a weird feeling, waking up like this on a body that wasn’t hers. Even in Griseo the times she did something like this could be counted in one hand.

After checking the state of this new form, everything seemed to be in order.

Morgana smiled and said.

“Let us begin.”

The duplicate was an imperfect homunculus, a fruit of the dark wizard’s great alchemical prowess.

Essentially, it was a meat golem produced to share a common essence with Morgana.

However, there were two key differences. This body had no conscience of its own, nor could it produce magical power, being nothing more than an empty vessel through which Morgana could manifest her mind.

In other words, it was a living tool.

The dark wizard had already arranged all the materials which would be used in this procedure.

“There will be no need for any anesthetics. Since my soul is not on the body, there is no pain to be felt.”

Morgana used a surgical knife and made an incision on the right flank of her body.

With a few skilled cuts, the kidney was removed and placed on a nearby patter.

“So far, so good.”

She took another kidney that had been previously prepared and inserted in the place of the old one.

“Cure wounds.”

Spells were produced by a combination of knowledge, energy and materials, but the homunculus had only two of those things. So how a being without its own mana reserves could accomplish this?

Well, that is because it shared Morgana’s essence, which meant that the dark wizard could still use the energy of her original body to cast spells for as long as the clone was touching it directly.

The healing spell allowed the wounds to mend quickly and the veins and arteries to reconnect. Soon, it was as if the wound had never existed.

“Alright, time for the next step.”

Lungs, splint, heart, and teeth. One by one, many parts of Morgana’s body were painstakingly replaced by someone else’s.

As soon as the surgical part ended, Morgana started to chant fervently and the body on the table was slowly transformed.

The sickly-looking young woman became a green-haired and handsome gentleman with brown skin.

….

At Licabeto Clearing, Sylvan was taken to the archfey’s presence.

As Titania had said long ago.

“Let other races build in wood and stone, for we are the most blessed of all peoples. The trees are our walls and the sky itself serves as our ceiling. Why lose time with cheap heretic imitations when the ultimate palace was already given to us, built by the goddess herself?”

This clearing acted as a hall for meetings and assemblies involving the fey who lived on the colony.

After his job was done, Nebula gave the archfey a deep bow and left. Now only two people stayed behind.

Moonbeam’s gift had the appearance of a wise old man. Both his hair and beard were long and grey. The skin shared the same tone as Sylvan’s but it was very wrinkled. And just like gnomes and fey usually did, his robes were made with vines, weaved together in a strange cloth.

However, he actually had the same age as protector Sylvan. A fairly’s appearance did not directly reflect its age. For instance, a child from this kind could be much older than one who had the body of an old person.

But this by no means made so that their bodies’ strength or vitality were impaired by the forms they took. For the fey were creatures of spirit more than matter. As such, they did not share the frailties of mortal men.

After seeing this protector, the Guardian gave a warm smile.

“Brother Sylvan, it is so good to see you. I hope you are feeling well on this blessed day, despite the troubles found on this recent journey.”

His aura was gentle and approachable. In fact, an unaware human observer might even think this was someone’s favorite grandfather.

But not Morgana. She took a measure of him and realized the old man was quite formidable.

“When you deal with fey, nothing is as it looks. Making rushed judgment in these situations is an excellent way to get yourself killed.”

But she only answered.

“How much do you already know?”

As far as Morgana could deduce through his memories, Sylvan did not enjoy pleasantries very much. Which was a good thing, because she could deal with the archfey quickly while maintaining her act.

As she expected, the old man did not take Sylvan’s actions the wrong way, as he already knew this was merely the protector’s personality.

“Just the gossip some family of birds told me. ‘A lot of fire and death on the west’. This is how they described it. Am I correct to assume the gnomes are involved? How bad were our losses?”

Sylvan took out a bag tainted with blood and threw its content on the ground. Three heads rolled towards the feet of Moonbeam’s Gift.

With an expressionless face he said.

“We faced a band of four mounted veterans, probably all being from the gnome’s First Generation. I killed three but one managed to escape. Unfortunately, nearly all treants and animals under my control fell in the process.”

The Guardian was visibly shocked and then his face showed hints of anger, but, just as he was about to reprehend this subordinate, Sylvan took out another item from inside his pouch, a simple wand made with a very noble-looking wood. Its carvings were delicate, yet not very complex.

“They also carried one of these. I believe you know what it means.”

Silence befell the clearing as the archfey was contemplating what to do next.

After a while, he answered with a rough and solemn voice.

“Sylvan, it’s no secret that I consider your methods, at times, to be extreme. Your hatred for those little monsters, while inspiring, can cloud your judgment and cause mistakes. But today the price you paid just might have saved us a whole lot of pain. So, as for the losses you suffered during the mission, there will be no punishment.

Don’t consider this, however, as a sign of approval on my part. Take some time off, calm your temperament and ponder over your actions. Understood?”

Sylvan promptly and said.

“Understood.

Can I do this while protecting the Wisdom Tree?”

Moonbeam’s Gift thought for a moment and then said.

“Yes. I feel it is wise to do so.

You can go now. Soon there will be a formal meeting to discuss this matter with more detail.”

With a bow, Sylvan departed, leaving the archfey alone to contemplate