Chapter 7: Offering Help
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I couldn't help but smile. "I'm a scientist. Discovery is what we live for." I glanced back at the suffering man. "Besides, no one should be in that much pain if it can be prevented."
Something in his expression shifted—surprise, followed by wariness.
"His condition is none of your concern," he said firmly, but I could see the conflict in his eyes. The young man groaned again, a sound of pure agony that made my heart ache.
"Please," I said softly. "Let me help. The compounds in these herbs—I understand how they work. I might be able to improve the formula."
For a long moment, he seemed to be waging an internal battle. Finally, he released my arm.
"You can observe," he conceded reluctantly. "Nothing more."
It was a small victory, but I'd take it. I followed him back to the sofa, where he continued preparing the herbal mixture. As he worked, I asked careful questions about the symptoms, the transformation process, the herbs he was using. To my surprise, he answered, though his responses were terse and guarded.
When he took the mixture to the young man, I stayed behind as instructed, but I could hear him speaking softly, reassuringly, to his friend. It was the most gentle I'd heard him sound since we met.
When he returned, his expression was grim. "The herbs aren't working as well as they used to. His transformations are getting worse."
"How long has this been happening?" I asked.
"Two years," he replied after a moment's hesitation. "It started gradually, but now..." He trailed off, looking toward the closed door with genuine concern.
"The moss I was collecting," I said carefully, "it has properties that might complement your herbs. If I could analyze it alongside what you're using, I might be able to create something more effective."
He turned to me, suspicion immediately returning to his eyes. "And why would you want to help us?"
"Because I can," I said simply. "Because no one should suffer like that if there's an alternative."
