It Started with Slime - Part 1

Interlude III - Haemish, And the Youngest Prince

"Master....Haemish.....thank you....for com..ing." The boy wheezed out.

Haemish had seen Boren Frelaine from time to time over his nine years. The boy had always been sickly and despite his father's best efforts had not been able to achieve much. The youngest of the Progenitor Kings brood, he had been born with below-average abilities and stats. A generally weak constitution and for the first time in history a -10 Luck stat. This had plagued the boy through his years and with his Luck gradually getting lower and lower with the days, months, and years due to the way Luck operated it had become a slippery slope that Boren had no hope of climbing. Already at only 9 years of age, he was at -100 Luck. Haemish pitied the boy.

Initially, the King and his wife had been shocked that such a thing could happen and so that had immediately commissioned Haemish as a well-known Alchemist to find a solution but of course, -10 Luck was not an ailment, not a foreign entity and so had not been able to use Distil Antidote to cure it. Over the years Haemish had managed to concoct many brews that reduced or nullified the effects of Luck and the Prince had taken them but they were either very short-lived or ludicrously expensive, enough to bankrupt a kingdom or the ingredients themselves were extremely rare and Haemish himself had only been able to collect a small amount at great personal expense or mortal peril.

Luck was a curious beast. Most didn't even have the stat but for the few that did, it had become an incredible boon. Unless you were born with it already negative. Haemish himself did not have it and didn't want it but no one knew what made the stat appear, like luck itself it was unclear who and what would trigger it.

"You are welcome your Highness, I would like to take a sample of your blood if you don't mind. I should be able to understand and work out a cure from it." Haemish said.

"Of course Haemish, I do not have much left though it seems, please do what you need to." Boren rasped through tired breaths. His dark eyes had bruises under them like he hadn't been able to get any sleep. At his age he needed it.

"Thank you, Your Highness. This will take but a moment." Haemish looked at the bruised arms of the prince, normally healing would have fixed that but his condition did not seem to allow that skin and tissue to be repaired.

For a nine-year-old boy, a child by all standards and even more so when one considered that most powerful individuals lived for many hundreds of years. His dignity and poise in the face of this level of torture were beyond admirable. Haemish found he had developed no small amount of respect for the lad, he would do everything he could to protect and help the boy to overcome his poor luck at birth. He would not let Boren suffer unless there was nothing else. If Haemish was honest with himself after the first few lacklustre attempts to reverse or solve the negative Luck situation he had given it up as a lost cause.

Perhaps it is time to delve into that again... his inner turmoil betrayed his lack of confidence. He was at a higher level now than he had been and with that came significant improvements to the quality and capability of his Potions. Maybe he needed to give it another look. If he talked to the King he should be able to get some funding for the project, he wanted to help the Prince and this was something only he could do. If it ended up pushing him further along his path that was a definite benefit as well.

Haemish took the sample from the child's leg closest to him, it was one of the few places he could take a sample, Boren whimpered feebly at the draw but did not move otherwise.

Forgive me, Prince, I will find a solution for this and get you back up and about. It was more of a promise to himself than the Prince but it would suffice to firm up his resolve in finding a solution. ...even if I have to give away some of my secrets to do it.

"Master Haemish, are you alright? Have you taken the sample you needed? I need to heal the Prince if you are done!" Marasa Brean had been watching him like a hawk the entire time and now her sharp tongue seemed to skewer him to the spot. Haemish was quite a bit older than Marasa but something about the waspish women unnerved him.

"Yes, yes...quite right, I am done. Thank you! I will get out of your hair....your way, get out of your way." Haemish was flustered by the abrupt tone of dismissal in the woman's voice. Good grief, she was nothing like Haren! He had found out that Marasa was indeed related to Haren, his older sister in fact, and completely the polar opposite of that man.

"Prince Boren, are you alright? I know that Haemish is not well versed in taking blood samples, I hope it didn't hurt but he insisted that he need to take the sample himself. I will heal you now if that is alright? Don't worry we are doing...."Marasa's soothing and matronly voice wafted out through the closing door behind him as Haemish rush away as fast as his dumpy legs could carry him.

Psychotic woman! How could she talk to him like that and the next second she was soothing the Prince. No one could change moods that fast! His discomfort changed to anger in the blink of an eye, but that was different, of course, it was. He was nothing like Marasa!