Morg spent several days convalescing after the
operation. Lying in a soft bed in the room next to Arghul’s laboratory, he
could feel his flesh mend and the organ slowly engorge with blood. Once
saturated, the muscular blob dumped its invigorating chemicals into Morg’s waiting
blood, then squeezed the crimson fluid back into his veins. The first change he
noticed was the taste of the broth Arghul brought him. Right after the
operation, he’d felt it bland. After a few days though, he began to pick out
subtle flavors he hadn’t noticed before, herbs that grew in Arghul’s great
garden.
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