The Many Adventures of Peter and Fi Volume I: Homecoming

Chapter 7- Lecture in the Blood Cell

"It's Peter," Peter muttered. He pushed himself off the wall, regaining his composure, "Didn't think I'd ever come across you again either, Professor Caldwell. Although I guess it's not Professor anymore, is it?"

"No, no." the old man chuckled, "It's just Caldwell now."

"I take it the Queen has no qualms with your disgusting experiments."

"Now, now. Every one of those students was a consenting volunteer. It is a shame what happened to that poor boy.. Richie was it? But I did warn him-"

"You were banished from the academy and your sigil smashed!" Peter cried.

"Bloody academy," Caldwell's face turned sour, "They can strip me of my title and oust me from my home, but they can do nothing to take away my gift. I will forever be the blood mage." A tear in his palm opened to allow a stream of blood to rise up like a fountain. Peter watched in disgust as blue veins bulged between the wrinkles of his face and all the way down his bony arm. The blood writhed and curved to form a miniature scarlet tree, complete with intricate branches and pinpoint leaves. Behind his revulsion, Peter could not help but be impressed. The artistry alone was incredible, let alone the immense skill behind it.

Professor Caldwell had been the foremost authority on creative expression at Lorentai Academy. His classes revolved around understanding the underlying principles of each individual's gift and exploring the diverse possibilities in which they could be applied. He himself demonstrated that his own gift was merely a weak influence over iron, barely capable of pushing a paper clip across his desk. But upon Isaac Tallwart's discovery that each haemoglobin protein that made up our red blood cells contained a singular iron atom at the centre of each of its subunits, Caldwell began experimenting. It was mere months before he was able to link long chains of red blood cells, and a few years until he had blood hopping from vial to vial. The academy commended him on his ingenuity, and bestowed upon him his moniker. Of course, this was long before it was discovered just how far his experiments had taken him.

The tree collapsed back down into Caldwell's palm, his blue veins receding. Peter cringed as the open wound sealed itself shut, the thought of blood still nauseous in his mind. And then it dawned on him.

"You're the one!" He blurted out, "That bloody tea party was your doing!"

"Ah, yes." Caldwell admitted, "Princess Abigail did show a strange.. enthusiasm for my gift. I was happy to demonstrate my abilities for her. I became her new "Flavour of the Month", so to speak. Although, I will admit, she took it a little farther than I had anticipated."

"You're sick," Peter croaked. Bile formed in his throat as he was reminded of the taste. He forced himself to swallow hard before he spoke again. "So what are you doing here?"

"I was informed they were bringing fresh meat to my dungeons, so I came to greet my newest subject." Caldwell replied.

Peter shuddered, "So you're still at it then? Haven't learned your lesson?"

"On the contrary my dear boy, I've learned many a lesson. The theories I've proven, the feats I am capable of, they would leave you speechless."

"You're right." Peter said, backing away, "I have no words for you."

"I'm waiting, Caldwell." A voice called from beyond the stone wall.

From his angle, Peter could just make out a pale skinned arm extending from within the adjacent cell. Apparently, he wasn't the only one imprisoned.

"Yes, yes, I'll be right with you," Caldwell answered back.

He moved over to examine the arm waiting impatiently. Grabbing the bone-white wrist, he began squeezing gently. The veins in both arms popped as blood flowed from one to the other. After only a few seconds, Caldwell loosened his grip. A soft squelch accompanied the disengagement as the pale arm slunk back into its cell.