The abandoned barn in the quiet Cavallon countryside smelled of hay and dust. Inside a middle-aged man patted his sweat-beaded forehead with a silk handkerchief. Sir Thomas Legend placed a gold and lead artifact on the owliksir’s work table next to some vials of silver liquid and got straight down to business.
“How do I live forever?” Thomas asked as he looked up to the rafters. There in the shadows, he could see large, unblinking orange eyes, staring down at him.
“You’re late,” said the owliksir. The creature spread its tawny-freckled wings, and after a few silent flaps, the magical hybrid landed on the table.
It stretched its two front talons across the table’s oak surface and dug into the wood. Its upper back arched downwards, its rump extended high, and its wings spread wide. Its body length was just over two feet, and for a moment, it looked intimidating.
Thomas took a few steps back to make room for the stretching owliksir. “Just means I gave you an extra hour of sleep, heh.”
It gave off a sound that was a mix of hoot and feline yawn. Thomas’ attempt at humor did little to amuse the owliksir.
The owliksir pruned a few chest feathers with its curved beak, adjusted both its silver bracelets, and straightened out its jewelled necklace–-all undoubtedly arcane–-then sat on its haunches and settled its wings about itself like a cape.
“This is what you barter?” The owliksir picked up the lead and gold trinket and began to inspect it meticulously.
The item depicted two snakes, each swallowing the tail of the other. One snake was lead, the other was gold. “You believe this artifact to be of the same value as the answer you seek, Sir Thomas Legend of Port Liber?”
Thomas began sweating. He wiped his brow with a sleeve. “Hot and humid in here, heh,” he said nervously. “How do you know where I live?”
“What I hear, I never forget.” The owliksir padded closer to the vials of silver liquid, lifted one up and tapped it with a talon. “You come for the Philosopher’s Stone, yes?”
Thomas put both his hands on the table and leaned forward with a wide smile. “Yes. Yes!” he replied hungrily.
The owliksir scratched behind one of its ear-tufts with a hind claw, then proceeded to lick and clean its talon before placing it back on the table. “You just bartered it. You had it the last twenty years, you just didn’t have the potion,” the owliskir said while putting the vial back in its holder.
“Albert was working on such a potion!” Thomas shouted. “This must be it!”
Thomas lunged wildly across the work table swatting at the owliskir. The creature let out a hiss followed by a screech and leapt off the table, flying up toward the rafters.
Snatching up the vial and raising it to his lips, Thomas drank the silver liquid in one massive gulp. He began to laugh, his quest finally complete!
–Then fell to his knees, clutching at his throat.
Thomas looked up, his eyes focused through floating fragments of dust particles, blurring them into snowflakes, and he saw those large unblinking orange eyes staring at him once more.
“You have thirty seconds of life left,” the owliksir purred from the darkness above.
Thomas crumpled on to his side. “How–-?”
“You were the partner of Albert Mundi, philosopher and alchemist. You were also his murderer. I know because I gave him the Philosopher’s Stone in exchange for his potion’s formula. Both combined hold the secret of immortality. Ten seconds, Sir Thomas Legend.”
Thomas coughed up blood. “I just… wanted… to live… forever…”.
The owliksir snorted. “I never once lost track of you or the Stone. I’ve heard stories about you for twenty years and knew your jealousy would find me. Three Seconds.”
Thomas stiffened. The last thing he’d hear made him smile.
“I never forget a story.”
“Bartering Immortality” by Nuno Teixeira © 2011, XEI
Licensed under the Creative Commons License By-NC-SA
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“Written by Nuno Teixeira, © 2011, XEI, http://www.nunoxei.com”
