One

“There, done finally.” Arlen exhaled the words as he straightened to admire his handiwork. The telescope had been a daunting task to create, the lenses carefully crafted and fitted into the casing of the device. The villagers cared little for Arlen's interest in things outside of daily survival. Labeled as an eccentric, Arlen had long ago moved far beyond the boundaries of the small village he had grown up in to live in the remote wilderness.

Turning to peer out the window of his cottage, his lips formed a smile. The sun had dipped beneath the trees, giving over its vigil to allow the moon to take up its nightly watch. Gently he collected his telescope and then padded to the front door and out onto the deck he had built around his house.

“Looks like I finished just in time too, the stars are just starting to become visible.” he mumbled to himself, reaching up to brush a few errant strands of his long blond mane of hair from his eyes. He carried a roughly carved wooden chair over to where he had set up the telescope and seated himself in it carefully. Bringing his eye to the telescope he scanned the sky, humming a soft folk melody under his breath as he peered at the stars that were becoming ever increasingly visible. Twinkling lights not previously visible to the naked eye now danced before his vision and the pitted surface of the moon which peeked over the horizon displayed in detail he could have only imagined. As he scanned the sky, a flicker of movement caught his attention and he adjusted the telescope for a better view.

“A shooting star...?” he murmured, his brow furrowing in concentration. His lips formed a hard line as the moving light did not dash away as a shooting star should, instead trekking a slow path across the sky. As he watched it grew larger and larger, its fiery light blazing brightly against the velvety cloak of night.

“What the... It's getting closer!” Arlen gasped, jerking his head up from the telescope to stare at the growing object in the sky. It grew, sinking lower as it did so until it struck the field in the distance with a violent impact. The night flared bright for a moment and Arlen threw up his arm to shield his eyes from the bright light, and then just as quickly it was gone. Lowering his arm he grasped the telescope and using it like a spyglass focused it on the field in the distance where clouds of smoke and dust billowed up from the crater he could barely make out in the dark.

“A shooting star crashed to earth! This is... This is brilliant!” he exclaimed exuberantly, leaping up from his chair and hastily gathering up the telescope, nearly tripping as he rushed back inside his house. His heart pounding in his chest, he snatched up a lamp and a pack he carried with him containing various tools. Lighting the wick of the lamp he rushed outside once more, taking the stairs down from the deck two at a time. The field was a good mile and a half away yet the distance meant little as Arlen ran. A strange silence had fallen over the fields and surrounding woods, as if the various creatures of the night had grown silent in awe of the bizarre phenomenon. Arlen's lungs burned and his sides ached as he finally neared the crater and he slowed his pace to a walk. A deep rut had been cut into the earth by the falling star, leaving a path of upturned dirt and scorched grass in its wake. Carefully he crept ever closer to the edge of the crater, his own heartbeat throbbing in his ears. Through the remaining wisps of smoke he could make out a strange shape, large and stony with edges that glimmered red where it smoldered.

“A stone from the sky?” he pondered aloud. At the sound of his voice a low guttural noise emanated from the stony mass and it shifted violently. Arlen stumbled back in shock, tripping over debris and landing on his backside with a thud. Righting his spectacles he fumbled for the lantern he had dropped and scrambled to his hands and knees. Holding his breath he crawled to the edge of the crater and held the lantern out in an attempt to get a better look. In the charred pit lay a creature the likes of which he'd never laid eyes on before. Easily bigger than a horse the beast bore thick stony skin which rose up in jagged spines along it's back. The tattered remains of what he could gather had been broad leathery wings were held close against the beast's side. Bright gold eyes moved sluggishly in the beast's head and it gingerly nudged at something nestled in the rubble.

“I've heard that the Alivarian kingdom uses dragons as mounts but... could it be..” he narrowed his eyes and leaned closer to the edge, barely able to make out a humanoid figure.

“There's somebody down there!” Arlen gasped, steeling his nerves he brought his legs in front of him and slid down the side of the crater. The stony creature groaned weakly, gazing at Arlen yet it made no move to halt his approach. As he neared the bottom it was clear why, blood poured from a deep gash in the creature's abdomen, its life slowly leaking away. Though an animal lover, he knew there was nothing he could do for a creature of this size and instead turned his attention to the body splayed out face down on the ground. Wordlessly he dropped to his knees, gingerly turning the figure over. His eyes widened as he stared at the person that lay before him.

“Hey, can you hear me?” Arlen asked, his vivid blue eyes bright with fascination. The man before him was unlike anything he'd seen before. Red hair the color of blood fanned out from a face that, if it weren't for the bruises and ash covering it, was both delicate and handsome at the same time. Long ears stretched to elegant points, and through the man's slightly parted lips he caught a glimpse of sharp incisors. Arlen looked the man over, taking stock of the burns and lacerations he could only conclude were a result of the beast that fell from the sky.

“Malphas....” the red head groaned, his voice raspy. His crimson lashes flickered and eyes slid open briefly, his eyes like molten gold locking on Arlen before rolling back in the sockets once more. Arlen's brow creased and he cast a glance at the immense beast nearby once more, its eyes had turned milky and its ribcage no longer heaved with the effort of breathing. Re-adjusting his pack, he then wrapped his arms around the male and carefully got to his feet. He couldn't save the beast but Arlen was determined to save the quirky man he had discovered.

Two

The return trek to his cabin was far longer and more arduous than his hectic sprint to the site of the crater. He had shifted the body of the man so it was draped over his back, the red head's chin resting on his shoulder as he carried him piggy-back. A low grunt escaped his lips as he trudged the few remaining steps up onto his deck. Bowing his head further he pushed the door open with some effort and shuffled inside. Making his way to his bed he carefully shifted the man around to lower him onto its surface before busying himself lighting lamps and candles. With the cabin illuminated he returned to close the door which still hung ajar.

“Now, lets get your wounds treated.” Arlen said aloud, despite the fact that the unconscious man certainly could not hear him. He gathered some clean linen he had stored aside for such an emergency, pouring water from an urn into a kettle and hanging it over the fireplace which he lit to warm it. He rolled up the long sleeves of his tunic, turning to the figure in the bed and set about the task of efficiently stripping his clothes. As he worked he absently marveled at how pale the man's skin was, and were it not for the fact his guest had red hair he might have thought him an albino. Finishing with his task he retrieved the kettle of water and poured its steaming contents into a bowl.

“This isn't going to be easy...” he spoke once more to his unconscious guest, dragging a small table from across the room and setting the water and bandages on it. Along side those he placed some sturdy thread, antiseptic ointment, and a sewing needle that he had taken a moment to hold over the fire to sterilize it. With the tools he needed to patch up his new charge he carried the stool from his work bench over to the bed. The man had a variety of wounds, varying in severity though none appeared to be immediately life threatening. Dipping a strip of linen in the water he began to carefully wash away the dirt and clotted blood from the deepest gash that ran across the top of the man's left thigh. The red-head groaned at the sensation, his brows knitting together. Arlen bit his lip, hesitating for a moment before setting back to his task with determination. With the wound cleaned he threaded the needle, paying a glance at his patient's face before beginning to attempt to suture the laceration closed. At the first prick of the needle the red-head's eyes snapped open, his body jerking away from Arlen forcefully enough to pull the needle from his fingertips.

“Easy! Easy.. I'm not trying to hurt you. You're wounded.” Arlen held up his hands in a gesture of peace, though the blood had drained from his face at the shock of having the other man awake so suddenly. The red head studied Arlen for a long moment before collapsing back against the mattress with a pained groan.

“Who... are you?” the crimson haired stranger finally spoke, his tone suspicious.

“My name is Arlen! I found you in that crater after seeing a star, well I guess it wasn't a star, but what I thought was a shooting star crash to the ground. When I went to take a closer look you were there face down in the dirt. You're beaten up pretty badly so I carried you back here to my home in order to mend your wounds.” Arlen explained hastily, resting his hands on his knees.

“Ah...” the point-eared man gave a grunt of understanding before glancing down at his exposed leg where the needle and thread dangled from his skin. Following his gaze Arlen peered at the injury before glancing back at the man.

“This isn't going to feel good, but I really need to close up this wound.. Um... What do I call you?” Arlen asked tentatively. The red-head considered him for a long moment before giving him a nod to proceed with stitching the wound closed.

“Gil. My name is Gil.” he finally answered, then set his teeth as Arlen began to stitch the wound closed. The blonde worked as quickly and neatly as he could, closing the wound and tying off the thread. With that done he coated the wound in ointment and set about washing the other wounds.

“What happened to my Bolide?” Gil rasped finally, his golden eyes following the movements of Arlen's hands with fascination.

“Bolide..? You mean that big creature that was in the crater too?” Arlen answered, canting his head to one side. Gil gave a nod and Arlen's face fell, averting his eyes once more to his work.

“It... died.” Arlen whispered mournfully. Gil gave a soft sigh, shaking his head before regarding the saddened blond.

“It's not your fault. I should never have pushed the poor creature as far as I did.” Gil murmured, trying to soothe the feelings of his benefactor. Arlen chewed his lip a moment, busying himself with applying the ointment to the last of the other man's wounds and bandaging them before he regarded Gil once more.

“So... Care to tell me what happened?” Arlen asked, offering a blanket to Gil and then sitting a bit straighter on the stool. Gil's eyes flickered nervously at the question before finally focusing on a point somewhere behind Arlen.

“I was.. Running away from someone. Some bad things happened and I had to leave or else my own life would've been at stake.” Gil explained hesitantly. Arlen frowned slightly at the other man's vague response but refrained from pressing the issue, instead turning to a question that had been bothering him since he first found the man.

“If you don't want to talk about why that's fine. I'm not here to judge anyone. However there is one thing I just have to ask. It looked like what I can only presume was you and the Bolide fall from the sky?” Arlen leaned forward, his eyes bright with curiosity.

“You would be correct in that observation. I'm not from this world...” Gil intoned evenly, his gaze finally falling on Arlen.

“Oh! I haven't properly introduced myself! Where is my head asking you all these questions before I even told you my name? I'm Arlen. Or wait.. did I already tell you that? Don't mind me, I'm a bit scatterbrained at the moment.” the alchemist announced cheerily. Gil arched an eyebrow at Arlen in silent wonder that the blond seemed unfazed by his claim of originating from somewhere outside this world.

“Why did you rescue me?” Gil exhaled the words, his eyes flickering with exhaustion.

“Why not? After all, if the villagers somehow found you they're so superstitious they might have done something ridiculous. Besides, it's just not in me to leave an injured man to die.” Arlen laughed, shrugged and then glanced down at his blood stained hands adding, “You look pretty exhausted. We can discuss more in the morning. For now I'm going to go get washed up and let you get your rest.”

Gil watched the blond silently as Arlen set about cleaning up, finally letting his eyes slip closed as Arlen padded outside to get washed up. Arlen couldn't suppress the grin that lit his face as he peeled off his bloodied clothing and began to wash himself off using rainwater that he collected in a barrel up on his deck. He had always believed in paranormal things and powers greater than the villagers cared to acknowledge but he had never imagined he'd find a man from another world. With the blood cleaned from his skin he left the dirty clothes outside on the railing of the deck to wash in the morning, heading inside and extinguishing all but one of the lamps. He briefly stood and watched Gil sleep, the red head twitching fitfully now and then, before settling himself on a rug on the floor with a spare blanket.

Three

Arlen blinked hazily awake, the rays of sunlight poured in through the cabin windows illuminating its interior in warm light. The memories of the night before poured back into his mind and he turned to peer over the edge of the bed. Gil slept soundly, his long wavy crimson hair mussed into a wild tangle about his pale face. Trying to be as quiet as possible, Arlen dressed himself in clean clothes and then slipped outside. The clothing he'd taken off the night before still hung from the railing of the deck alongside Gil's outfit. He set about the task of washing the clothing and then hanging it to dry. With that done he gathered a few fresh vegetables from the small garden he maintained beside his cabin, washed them clean and carried them inside.

“There you are.” Gil rasped, his amber eyes locked on Arlen as the blonde entered the cabin. Arlen pivoted on his heel to peer at the other man, a warm smile playing across his lips.

“Oh, you're awake. How are you feeling?” Arlen queried, carrying the vegetables to a table by the fireplace.

“Sore. I suppose that's to be expected with my injuries though. I'm starving too.” Gil answered, shifting to prop himself upright with a groan.

“Well, I don't know that there's a lot I can do about the soreness but the hunger I can definitely take care of. I was just getting ready to make some soup.” Arlen stated brightly. Despite himself he found his eyes drawn to Gil's torso when the sheet fell away as he had sat up. The red headed man was muscular but lean, his skin pale like a porcelain doll's. Were it not for the bruises and lacerations marring his ribcage and abdomen the skin would have been flawless.

“Now that I have my wits about me, um...” Gil paused in thought, “Arlen. Tell me a bit more about yourself.”

“I don't know how much there is to tell. I'm an alchemist by profession. That doesn't really sit right with the rest of the villagers in the town I grew up in so after my parents died I moved out here on my own. The villagers are so superstitious, they don't like anything to do with practical science or anything of the sort. I also enjoy tinkering with inventions.” Arlen rambled on, adjusting his glasses and turning his focus to the task of cutting up the vegetables he'd brought inside.

“People often balk at change.” Gil agreed, his eyes turned to gaze through the window.

“I suppose I shouldn't make it too spicy, eh?” Arlen asked, taking a glance over his shoulder as he put the vegetables into a iron pot and added water to it.

“I'm not really familiar with what you're making. Just make it like you normally would.” Gil replied softly. Arlen gave a nod and then returned his focus to the soup, adding spices as he typically would and some dried meat for flavor. After hanging the pot from a hook over the fireplace he added some fresh logs to the smoldering embers .

“I've got to go feed the animals while this heats up but then I'll be right back.” Arlen told the red head, picking up a sack of grain and corn from beside the door and stepping outside. Descending from the deck he made his way to the paddocks where he kept the animals. Dispensing the grain to the chickens, goats, sheep, and the single milk cow and horse he had. After checking to make sure their water supply was filled and that there was sufficient hay he made his way back toward his home. Opening the door he found Gil inspecting his telescope, wearing little more than one of the blankets from the bed wrapped about his waist.

“This is one of your inventions, right?” Gil asked, glancing over at Arlen who had paused in the doorway.

“Uh.. Oh, yes. Yes I actually finished making it last night. You really shouldn't be out of bed with your wounds, you're going to start bleeding again if you move around too much.” Arlen chastised, ushering the other man back to the bed.

“It's fine, I was very careful.” Gil frowned at the slight scolding, though he returned to the bed without resistance and covered himself from the waist down with the sheets once more.

“I just don't want you to get hurt. You suffered quite a bit of blood loss, you could get lightheaded and fall. Enough of my nagging though, it's not like your a child who doesn't know all that already,” Arlen glanced back at the telescope once more, “As for that. It's sort of like a spyglass only it can see for much greater distances. I was using it to look at the moon and stars when I saw you fall from the sky.”

“It's an interesting device. We don't have anything like it on my world.” Gil regarded the telescope curiously as he spoke.

“Perhaps you can tell me more about where you come from after you eat. The soup is ready now.” Arlen's voice mirrored the excitement worn on his face at the prospect of getting to know more about his guest. Removing the pot from the fire he ladled the soup into two bowls, offering one of them and a spoon to Gil before seating himself at the table with his own. Gil peered at the soup for a long moment in consideration, inhaling the scent deeply before taking up the spoon and sipping at it.

“Is it good?” Arlen asked worriedly, watching Gil closely for a reaction.

“No, it's wonderful. This is really good!” the red head answered with a look of awe on his face. Arlen smiled at the response, taking his own bowl in hand and beginning to eat. They ate in silence, Arlen watching as Gil devoured the soup hastily. Lowering his empty bowl and spoon to his lap, Gil regarded Arlen once more.

“Thank you for the meal. I was going to tell you more about my own world after I finished. It's... a bit more developed than this world. Most of my people live in large cities. We don't have need of many devices though, most of the things we need or do are taken care of by either magic or our own natural abilities. For example, I can see for great distances without assistance.” Gil explained, a small smile manifesting on his lips as he could see the awe that lit Arlen's cerulean eyes.

“That's remarkable! Tell me more.” Arlen prompted the other man to continue, setting aside the remainder of his soup and turning his full attention to Gil.

“My people, the Challux, can use our magic to do almost anything we need. We can make fire or conjure water, heal wounds, summon creatures from other worlds. The problem is that level of power has made some of my people lazy. They live bourgeois lives of luxury and take pleasure in finding crude entertainment, such as death matches between their pets.” Gil growled, frowning in distaste. Arlen silently studied him, waiting for Gil to continue.

“That's part of why I left. My lover was among those spoiled imbeciles. Nothing more than a lazy glutton with too much power at his disposal. When I openly disagreed with his behavior he ordered my imprisonment and sent assassins after me to silence me. So I fled, and that's how I ended up here.” Gil murmured, his voice thick.

“I'm sorry that you had to go through that.. Are you alright Gil? You don't look well..” Arlen peered at the other man in concern. Gil's lips and cheeks had paled and the crimson haired man was hunched over slightly.

“I think... I'm going to be sick..” Gil grunted, raising a hand to his mouth in an attempt to resist the nausea.

“Let me get you a bucket!” Arlen quickly crossed the cabin and retrieved a bucket he used for mopping, returning to the bed and offering it to Gil. Gil seized the bucket, bending over it as he disgorged the contents of his stomach. Arlen had carefully reached to pull Gil's long hair back from his face as he threw up. Gil groaned, dry heaving several more times and then finally straightened.

“Maybe soup was a bit much... We'll try something milder later after your stomach has settled.” Arlen soothed, retrieving a handkerchief so that Gil could wipe his mouth.

“I'm sorry.” Gil apologized, wiping his face clean as Arlen took the bucket away.

“What are you sorry for? It's not like you threw up on purpose.” Arlen said lightly, then took the bucket outside and poured it out. When he returned indoors Gil had laid back in the bed, his eyes half lidded.

“Why don't you rest for a while. I'll wash your wounds and change your bandages a little later and then you can try eating again.” Arlen said, pacing over to the bedside and taking the used handkerchief and putting it in the basket where he kept dirty linens.

“That sounds good.” Gil intoned softly, closing his eyes. Arlen watched him for several minutes before turning to his workbench and seating himself to work one one of his many inventions.

Four

Arlen sat at his workbench, staring at an alchemic formula. Despite his best efforts his mind drifted away from his studying to the frustration of the last few days. He had tried everything he could think of to find something that Gil could eat. Even goats milk, known to be gentle enough to feed an infant, hadn't worked. He'd tried a potion to cure nausea but Gil threw that up as well. Concern etched on his face he glanced over his shoulder at the red-head who was propped up in the bed reading. The movement caught Gil's attention and he met Arlen's gaze.

“Is something wrong?” Gil asked, lowering the book to his lap.

“I'm just worried about you.” Arlen answered honestly, rising and pacing across the room to stand beside the bed.

“I'll be fine.” Gil's statement was nonchalant, as though going without food for three days was of little concern. Arlen frowned and raised a hand to absently rub at his jaw in consternation.

“Your wounds aren't healing well at all despite the ointment and you've got bags under your eyes. If I don't find something you can eat soon you're going to get even weaker.” Arlen protested, folding his arms across his chest and staring at Gil.

“Don't worry about it, I said I'll be fine.” Gil stated tersely, the words ground out between clenched teeth. A muscle twitched in Gil's jaw and he affixed his gaze firmly on the book resting on his legs.

“No, you won't be. Gil, you're going to starve if you don't eat something!” Arlen snapped, irritation lining each word. At the outburst Gil's eyes shifted to give him a sidelong stare, his irises blazing like molten gold. Arlen sucked in a breath of shock as Gil reached out with such surprising speed and strength, his world inverting as he was tossed down onto the bed. His head spun and he felt the weight of Gil straddling him, his wrists pinned at his sides by the other man's iron grip.

“G-Gil, what are you doing?” he stammered, blood rising to his cheeks at the sensation of warm breath against his throat. At the words Gil sat back, still holding Arlen's wrists as he gazed down at him.

“Listen, it's not that I don't find you attractive but don't you think you're moving a little too fast? I mean, we barely even know each other yet.” Arlen sternly stated, trying to mask his nervousness and keep from focusing on the fact that Gil wearing nothing but the bandages that covered his wounds had him pinned down beneath him. Silence stretched between them for a long moment and Gil's fingers finally released Arlen's wrists, one hand coming up to place his face against his palm. A quiet laugh escaped the Gil's lips and he lowered the hand away he shook his head.

“You really are an odd fellow, Arlen... Get up.” Gil shifted off of the other man as he spoke, allowing him to rise. Arlen hastily pulled himself to his feet, his brows knitting together in question at Gil's statement.

“Do you have an animal you were planning on slaughtering for food any time in the near future?” Gil asked evenly as he moved to sit at the edge of the bed.

“Well, yes. I was planning on using one of the goats soon. You haven't been able to keep down even the mildest foods though so I don't see how that would help.” Arlen replied, regarding the other man curiously.

“Just take me to it.” Gil commanded, rising and gathering a blanket about his waist. Arlen started to protest but thought better of it and led the other man outside onto the deck. The sun was still high and the summer insects whirred and buzzed in protest to the heat.

“Wait here on the deck, your feet are bare.” Arlen gestured to the stairs leading down from the deck and headed toward the paddocks where he kept the animals. His mind turned over what had happened minutes earlier as he walked. Reaching the pens he paced to the enclosure where he kept the goats, stepping through the narrow gate and taking one of the animals by the cloth collar that encircled its neck. He had chosen a young male, castrated so that its musk glands would not develop before it was slaughtered.

“Will this do?” Arlen asked, leading the goat over in front of Gil. Gil studied the creature for a moment before giving a nod of approval and extending a hand to take hold of its collar.

“Go back inside. This won't take long.” Gil ordered, his gaze fixed firmly on the goat.

“Why?” Arlen questioned, refusing to be so easily dismissed.

“Fine, stay if you want.” Gil shrugged, not paying a backward glance as Arlen ascended the stairs and posted himself against the railing nearby. Arlen watched as Gil sat motionless for a long moment, seemingly having a staring contest with the young buck before guiding the animal so that it's front hooves rested on the lowest step. Gil leaned to one side, opened his jaw wide and bit down into the animal's throat. Arlen quietly watched in fascination, studying the way Gil would occasionally clench his jaw and the way his eyes almost seemed to glow. Despite the assault the goat was oddly amenable, standing perfectly still as though being bitten was nothing out of the ordinary. Finally the animal seemed to sway and Gil shifted an arm to support its weight as the goat collapsed. Its eyes gradually slid closed and its ribcage stilled as no more breath was drawn. Gil's jaw relaxed and he licked the wound clean. Arlen's eyes widened as the two puncture wounds in the goat's neck closed and healed as though they had never been there in the first place.

“Mortified yet?” Gil asked, turning to peer at Arlen through half-lidded eyes.

“Mortified? Not at all! That was absolutely fascinating! I've never seen anything like it. The goat didn't even fight you at all and then the way its wounds closed was just remarkable. How did you do that?” Arlen spoke rapidly, pacing closer to get a better look at the goat which now rested unmoving in Gil's arms. He couldn't disguise the excitement of witnessing such a strange altercation.

“You really are different, aren't you.” Gil murmured, his expression softening and his lips curving into a smile. The action caused Arlen to pause. He hadn't realized what a wonderful smile Gil had.

“That's what the villagers tell me.” Arlen said lightly, giving a shrug and bending down to inspect the goat.

“You should probably go ahead and clean and butcher it before the meat goes bad. I can explain more afterward.” Gil stated and allowed the alchemist to take the goat from him before rising and pacing back toward the door of the cabin. Arlen stared after him until Gil disappeared inside. Returning his focus to the task at hand he carried the animal around to the back of the cabin where he kept a small shed for when he needed to slaughter and clean livestock.

When his task was done and the meat had been prepared to dry Arlen cleaned his arms and headed inside. Gil had seated himself in bed, the book he had been reading earlier once again in his hands. Golden eyes tracked Arlen's movements as the alchemist picked up the stool from his workbench and carried it over to the bed.

“So, you were going to tell me more about yourself.” he prompted, resting his palms on his knees.

“Indeed,” Gil paused to dog ear the page he was reading and closed the book before regarding Arlen, “As I'm sure you've already gathered I feed on blood. It doesn't matter what kind of blood, animal or humanoid makes no difference. You had asked about the goat's placid behavior before. My kind have the ability to control the minds of less intelligent creatures. That's why the animal didn't resist.”

“Telepathic abilities... Amazing. What about how you healed the bite marks?” Arlen leaned forward, his eyes bright with almost childlike enthusiasm.

“All of my race has extremely powerful natural regeneration abilities. As long as we are not undernourished even wounds that would be fatal to a mortal are simple to regenerate. Properties of that ability to regenerate are present in saliva, so after feeding the wound closes on its own due to exposure to the saliva.” Gil explained evenly, a small smile on his lips.

“Oh wow... That's absolutely remarkable. It makes so much more sense though, especially if you were keeping a food source alive. An open would would get infected and putrefy but because it's healed there's no need to worry about disease. I wish you would have just told me from the beginning that you can only consume blood.” Arlen grinned as he finished speaking, leaning back slightly.

“Well, I had never tried alternate food sources so it had never occurred to me that I would have such a great intolerance to other foods. I also didn't think my natural diet would be all that well received. You see, on my world my people have humanoids that we cultivate as livestock and pets,” Gil paused and frowned slightly, “I realize it sounds cruel but the practice was established so many aeons ago that those mortals don't know the difference. There are some sick individuals where I come from who have grown bored with our standard source of food and decided it to be far more entertaining to kidnap mortals from other worlds for the taste of different blood. These victims of abduction have generally reacted very poorly to the idea that my kind feeds on blood.”

“I guess I can see how you would be hesitant to tell me if every other person you had met freaked out. You don't have to worry about me though. My dream is to learn and understand everything this world has to offer and use that knowledge to help others.” Arlen smiled openly, canting his head slightly to one side. Gil regarded him silently, his eyes tracing the way Arlen's lengthy hair fell about his shoulders.

“You are a truly genuine person. It's refreshing.” Gil complimented, his fierce eyes suddenly very gentle.

“I'm not perfect by any means. I just try to do my best to use my natural talents for the good of others.” Arlen shook his head in dismissal.

“Back to what we were discussing, remember what I was explaining about regeneration? Now that I've fed you should be able to see the effects.” Gil reached for one of the bandages covering one of the lacerations on his chest. Arlen was about to protest but as the gauze was torn away what lay beneath was not a wound but pristine smooth skin.

“My god... Your wound is gone! Are they all gone? Let me see!” Arlen stood quickly, and began to peel Gil's bandages away. The red-head watched with amusement plastered upon his face as Arlen removed each strip of gauze. As he finished Arlen sat back down in the stool, eyes wide as though it was almost too much to absorb.

“Hey, are you okay?” Gil reached out to tap Arlen's knee. At the touch the blonde returned his attention to Gil once more.

“Am I okay? I'm better than okay! I've just never seen anything quite like it. Imagine the possibilities! If I could figure out how that works I could save so many lives.” Arlen mused, tilting his head back to stare at the ceiling in thought. After several moments he returned his attention to Gil once more.

“The only thing is it's going to get expensive feeding you. I'll run out of livestock before long and animals aren't cheap.” Arlen regarded Gil seriously.

“You needn't worry about that. I can hunt for myself now that my wounds have regenerated. I should probably do so under the cover of night though. I doubt that most would be as easy going about my diet as you are.” Gil replied.

“Definitely. The villagers are far too superstitious. They'd probably think you a witch or demon or some other nonsense,” Arlen hesitated, turning to glance out one of the cabin windows, “Of course if you got hungry during the day it would be fine if you needed to drink a little of my blood to hold you over until night.”

“Oh?” Gil questioned, raising an eyebrow at the offer. Arlen nodded in affirmation, turning to face Gil once more.

“I'd rather you get enough to eat than have to starve all day just because the villagers are idiots who might freak out.” Arlen stated firmly. As he finished speaking, the alchemist's stomach gave a loud growl of protest.

“Sounds like you're the one that's hungry at the moment. Why don't you fix yourself something to eat and we can talk more after.” Gil said with amusement lacing his voice. Arlen adjusted his spectacles, grinning in embarrassment.

“That's probably a good idea.” he agreed, though remained seated for a long moment to peer at Gil before finally rising and setting about the task of preparing a meal for himself.

Impressum

Tag der Veröffentlichung: 30.07.2011

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