Casimir let out a loud gasp as he jolted up from a surge of energy welling up in his core. Instinctively, his hand clasped the right side of his abdomen which trembled like an enclosed pot of ricocheting and exploding popcorn. Then, as quickly as the energy came, it vanished along with the pulse.

Blast it, it wasn’t just a nightmare.

 Casimir’s hand left his side to soothe his pounding headache.   

“Tsk.”

 Soft sunlight warmed his face and he turned to the window. Delicate flurries of snow peppered the windowpane. Snow? But it is fall… 

His eyes widened and his heart began to race when it dawned on him. 

This isn’t my room! 

 His eyes darted around his unfamiliar surroundings. It was a manor’s bedroom, a bit smaller and less lived in than his own, sparsely furnished with a wardrobe, desk, and a seating area near a lit fireplace. Green mayflower wallpaper covered the walls. Beneath him was a full-size bed made with high-quality linen, and his hands left his head and touched the cotton nightshirt he was wearing. 

 Sweat peaked from his pores, when he had a memory of Sageman looking over him with the glee of a craftsman who finished his magma opus.

Could this belong to him? No, because he was forced to leave me behind.

  Casimir heard the door creak open and he readied himself for the worse. Instead, his eyes widened when a young man with skin and hair as white and fine as a talcum powder entered, and studied him with orange eyes that matched his. 

“Great, you are finally awake,” said the man in a stoic tone. 

 “Da…” Casimir stopped himself. “Who are you?”

 The man straightened his navy housecoat and asserted his authority while turning up his delicate nose. “I am the current lord of the Mindrattler house, but since this is an informal occasion, you may call me Whitley.”

 “My cousin?”

 Whitley nodded. “I was a part of your rescue team. You have been staying with me while you recover.”

“Thank you for your part in saving me.” Casimir frowned and looked away. “But, I’d rather stay where I am wanted.”

Whitley wrinkled his nose. “You were welcomed here. We simply agreed with the Inquis that they were better equipped in taking care of you, because you lacked Aether.”

Casimir looked at Whitley in disbelief. “You never called or visited!”

“They didn’t want us to. Both of our families did not learn of your existence, until your mother returned to the Inquis manor when you were four. This was well after she was missing for years.” 

“Yes I heard–”

“So you understand the scandalous implications and why the Inquis didn’t care for our involvement.”

Casimir anxiously scratched the back of his nape before saying, “Although I vaguely remember my father, I never pictured him as the type. I don’t think my uncle does either, he only was suspicious of his close friendship with…”

“I’ll send for the doctor to check on you.” Whitley turned for the door.

Casimir sighed, while lowering his head. “How is my uncle?”

“He seemed fine the last time I saw him. Lord Franc and Lady Eloise also came here to see you, while you were unconscious.”

 “What about Sully and my other cousins? Were there any casualties?” 

“I don’t think it is my place to say.”

 Casimir frowned. “How long have I been out?”

 “For some time.”

***

 “Six months! I was out for six months!” Casimir’s body jerked back up from its resting position, and his head pivoted to the left of his bedside, where Whitley stood. 

  “Lie back down! You are preventing the doctor from properly attending to you.” Whitley scolded him, while crossing his arms.  

Standing on the opposite side of the bed was the manor’s in-house medical staff. A balding, grayish-purple haired man wearing a brown suit smiled and waved both of his hands dismissively. “It is quite alright. I am sure most people would have a similar reaction.”

“Six months of my life, gone. I can’t believe it.” Casimir looked up at the white ceiling in a daze. “It did not feel like I was out for that long. What happened to me?!”

“It is probably for the best you don’t know,” Whitley said bluntly. 

“What do you mean—!”

The old doctor placed a firm hand on Casimir’s shoulder. “Please, remain still, young master. I promise this won’t take long.”

 “My apologies.” Casimir remained motionless while the doctor pulled back his night shirt, revealing a chest that he did not recognize as his own. His once well-defined core muscles softened and leveled out into a flat plain of skin and fat. I lost too much weight! 

 The doctor flexed his fingers and they began to shine with a golden light. 

A threadless pattern. I’ve never seen one done before. Purple hair… he must be a Pennyroyal…. Iris? Iris Pennyroyal? She was also a part of the rescue mission. She probably sent him here to look after me.

Casimir curiously watched the doctor feel around his abdomen. What is this? It is like something warm and ethereal is moving under my skin. 

He slightly jumped when the doctor stopped to grip around his Aether heart.

“Ho, ho, sorry, I should have warned you,” the doctor said with a chuckle. “You aren’t used to this.”

“No, I’m not,” Casimir grumbled. Just, hurry up.   

  Whitley raised an eyebrow while stroking his angular chin. “So does he have any issues?”

 “No, despite the bizarre circumstances, he is in fair health.” The doctor moved his examination down to Casimir’s legs. “Although some of his muscles have atrophied from inactivity, that can be corrected with exercise.”

 Whitley nodded. 

 “More importantly, I can sense that his Aether heart and Aetherian circulatory system are functioning just fine.”

“Is there any way I can have it removed?” Casimir asked. 

The doctor was taken aback, while Whitley glared at Casimir with disgust.

Casimir looked at the doctor with desperation in his eyes, but the man shook his head.

 “I can’t out of good conscience. It is too risky and I also can’t bring myself to destroy a valuable part of history. You are now the third successful Aether heart transplant case, and the first done on someone born without an Aether heart or Aetherian circulatory system. It is truly remarkable!”

“Good conscience!” Casimir grabbed the doctor’s sleeve. “I don’t care about becoming a part of history! All those victims I failed to save in time were missing their Aether hearts. And I…” Casimir began to tremble. “You got to take it out!”

“Casimir, let him go!” Whitley ordered but Casimir ignored him and maintained his grip. 

The doctor turned to Whitley with a frown. “I must take my leave and inform Lady Pennyroyal of the good news.”

Whitley orange eyes flashed and warm Aether entered into his mind. Before he could resist, he found himself loosening his hold on the doctor and his head falling back on the pillow. Whitley grabbed Casimir’s hand and further subdued him into calm submission as the doctor escaped.  

Blast it! Another threadless pattern!

 “Thank you, Fennel,” Whitely said when the doctor left the room and his cold gaze returned to Casimir. 

 Tense silence hung in the air for a while until Whitley suddenly spoke, “Are you done?”

“I..I want it out.”  

“Don’t be daft.”

Daft. Casimir wanted to rage but Whitely’s Aether continued to smash down his anger like a hammer. He eventually gave up when he found himself yawning and Whitley let go of his hand.

 “You want to risk dying on the operating table to get rid of a perfectly functioning organ, as a matter of principle? Are you stupid?” Whitley asked in a cold, derisive tone .

With his mind clear, Casimir narrowed his eyes and responded firmly, “If it was acquired from someone else’s murder, then yes. I doubt Sageman received that Aether heart through reputable means. I know he didn’t.”

 “It probably was not a transplant,” Whitley said underneath his breath. 

Casimir’s lips parted, dumbfounded. What else could it have been? I doubt even the Pennyroyals are capable of growing an organ from nothing. They need at least a piece of tissue to work with. I had nothing. 

Whitley continued, “Besides, getting rid of it is not going to bring that poor soul back from the dead.”

 Casimir snapped at Whitley with a defiant glare. “I refuse to!  I will not benefit from the death of an innocent person just because a madman fancies himself a god.” 

Whitley tilted his head and scowled. “Self-righteous idiot, what are you going to do when  Professor Sageman comes back and sees that you threw away his work?”

That is right he said he was going to come back for me, but still… 

Casimir grumbled, “So that’s it? You want me to roll over and accept this like a coward?”

“No, the wiser decision is to turn this situation into something good. Become a Weaver, join the Imperial forces, and dedicate your life to catching him. I bet he welcomes you to oppose him and will be sorely disappointed if you don’t.”

 Join the Imperial forces? I guess I can do that and assist my family in cases as a Weaver. But it still feels wrong. I’m still catering to his whims at the cost of someone else’s life.  Casimir shook his head. “Maybe, if I… No, we can plan. We could find a way —”

 Whitley raised his hand, silencing him.“Planning can only do so much. Think about this rationally. Even among the Inquis, the strongest among you possesses an Aether heart.” 

Casimir sighed when he recalled being subdued by Sageman’s Aether. I was completely useless back then and had to be carried by Sully. Why did he have to be right?

 “Since you are here,” Whitley began.  “I’ll pick out a few Aetherian pattern books you can study while you are stuck in bed. Then you will practice the patterns on an Aetherian loom until you are well enough to manipulate Aether without it. Hopefully, by January of next year, you will be ready to study under a Master, and obtain your Weaver license.”

 Casimir lowered his head. “I don’t have much of a choice, do I?” 

“No, you don’t…”  After a long pause Whitley clicked his tongue, then sat on the end of the bed beside Casimir. 

Casimir looked at him surprised and noticed Whitley’s face straining to say something. 

 While squinting his eyes, Casimir cautiously asked, “What is it?”

Whitley sighed, “Minus the kidnapping and experimentation part, all us Aetherians had trouble adjusting to our new powers. I was not happy when I received mine.” 

 “Really? I always assumed it just came naturally.”

“Don’t give us too much credit, we are still human.” Whitley averted his eyes. “I first became aware of my powers when I accidentally made my non-Aetherian governess fly into an uncontrollable rage. I was bedridden at the time and unknowingly projecting my feeling of anger and frustration on her.”

 “S—”

Whitley raised his hand. “There is no need for pity. That was a long time ago and I’m healthy now thanks to….” 

Whitley lowered his eyes with a mixture of sorrow and longing. He then snapped out of it  and his emotionless face returned. “Anyway, she started screaming and I became afraid and she began to tremble in fear and fled from the room, and I never saw her again.”

“I’m surprised you had a non-Aetherian governess.”

“Ideally, I would have had a family member looking after me but sadly we lacked the numbers. She had good references and experience working with Weaver families, unfortunately I was too much for her. ”  

“This does not sound comforting.” 

“Just know, your awakening was tamer than most. You didn’t accidentally hurt or kill someone.” Whitley patted him on the shoulder before rising from his seat. “You’ll get over it. You have no choice.”