“Come with me; there’s a new subject.”
“I was... about to eat?”
“If my guess is correct, I’m doing a favor by stopping you now.”
“I’ve been your assistant for three years now; I can keep food down when I see an open chest cavity.”
“Please.”
“... Ok, let me clean up. I’ll be there shortly.”
Bryling was indeed thankful that the elder had stopped their lunch when she did. It was a youth, barely old enough for a few chin hairs. His condition was familiar to some other Varanar in the city; scales gone, horns absent, feet practically declawed and deformed from binding, even his tail was cut off at the hips. It was strange to see one so young, but not unheard of. It was no secret that there is a growing population that shuns their draconic features, going to extreme lengths such as this to achieve some kind of “perfection” through self-mutilation. Sometimes the young would be inducted. Sometimes their parents would induct them.
Bryling tied their hair back and donned their apron as Nyra set out the tools that would be used. "Do we know how he died?"
The youth’s cadaver was placed on a stone table, carved to allow for fluids to drain into a bucket that would periodically need dumping out. He was face-down, an odd position to be in for a study.
"Not precisely, no. I have a theory, however..." The medicine woman had already cut his hair short, revealing a prominent lump under his skin which started from the base of the skull and extended down the neck in large ridges. Nyra took a small knife and made an incision, starting at the crown, slowly travelling down along the side of the abnormality, before finally stopping at the stump that used to be a tail.
"I've only heard of this condition before, never had a chance to see. It will be a good learning opportunity for you."
Bryling couldn't take their eyes off of the ridges and how fleshy they were, unlike boils or broken bone. What little movement was caused by Nyra's knife made the skin stretch unnaturally over it, like a muscle that shouldn't be there. "What did you hear about this mystery 'condition'?"
"That it's very hard to detect at first, starts as a low fever that goes away after a day or two. Then energy levels seem to spike, along with appetite, like a second growth spurt with no actual growth." Another incision, this perpendicular at the top of the lengthwise one. "Sometime over the course of months, there's a growing sensitivity to cold, a slowing in healing from injuries, dulling of the senses. Later stages involve scale discoloration and loss, horns become brittle enough to crack off..." She pulled back the skin covering the back of his head and neck.
"Caused by full-scale infestation." What could only be described as a tentacle filled with maggot-like creatures inside of a translucent skin was wrapped tightly around the spine, slipping easily into the skull. Despite having an empty stomach, Bryling still had to swallow a mouthful of stomach acid, hard. Even Nyra seemed to go a shade paler and drew a sharp breath from the sight. Still, she continued, peeling the skin back all the way down to get a better view of the damage.
"God... oh God, what IS that...?"
Nyra took a steadying breath, the spine and the ailment now in open air and sunlight. "That must be what has been attributed as vengeance from our ancestors. Or a gift, depending on who you ask. The most common name I've heard for it is 'Ghost's Tongue.'"
Finally catching their breath and making firm eye contact with the elder, Bryling's voice quivered far more than the incredulous expression on their face would have suggested. "A GIFT? What kind of gift is a parasite?" Her mouth formed a thin line, her eyes, weighed heavy with bags and heavier still with understanding, meeting theirs. "The kind that effectively removes the draconic features one hates. The kind that is a parasite that fails by killing its host. The kind that does that because... It may be an intentional infection."
Bryling sat down to stop the room's spinning. Nyra continued her work, carefully cutting around the spine and the aberration as she talked. "It's a secret everyone knows that there are cults that have formed around the idea of 'purifying the Varanar form.' Some stop at scale peeling. Others at horn sawing." She waved Bryling over to hold the flesh back, something they did with much hesitation, before beginning to gingerly unwrap the parasite.
With each vertebrae freed, it was easier to see where multiple holes had been bored into the marrow. The revealed underside of the creature was covered in minuscule cilia that made master and assistant both glad to be wearing thick gloves, even with it thoroughly dead. "This poor boy had been infected by a rumored 'domesticated' strain, likely during an initiation. Wild infections don't cluster around the spine like this, instead spreading to other large bones to feed on the marrow. Whoever... bred..." She shuddered at the thought and cleared her throat. "Whoever made these quite frankly fucked up. Nature knows better than to burn through one's food source."
Food source. That was too much as Bryling heaved into a bucket that was meant for blood and corpse bile. By the time they finished, Nyra was at their side with a rag, wiping cheek and lip like the grandmother she was. "I have more work to do here, but you may go for the day. This was a hard lesson."
To her surprise, they stood up, shook their head, and took their place at the side of the cadaver. "The job's not done." A smile lifted the old Varanar's cheek and she too stood, though with a bit more effort and a bone click or two. "Good. We still need to open the Tongue to see what differences there are between this and natural variants. After that a report needs to be made and sent out with caravans to stock up on the proper herbs for the cleansing poultice."
Bryling was begining to regret putting on a brave face as a second wave of nausea threatened to peak.
(whoops i wrote a blurb @whitemantis-stash)