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When the Shadowhand picks up the scalpel, Eadwulf knows he'll have to blow his cover. He's hidden his mind so far, playing the thoughtless grunt, the lowly guard, and, today, the willing victim, but Master Ikithon has told Essek to make the incision and he clearly has no idea what he's doing, which means that Eadwulf has to tell him.
"Hold it like a pen," he suggests, startling Essek. "No," Wulf continues when Essek responds too literally, "not 'like' as in the same grip, but as in the same intent."
Essek's gaze is doubtful, but he tries to follow Wulf's advice. That itself is rather surprising; no archmage of the Assembly would ever so willingly acquiesce to the advice of a subordinate, which Wulf has been repeatedly framed as to the Shadowhand.
As Essek gets a feel for the blade, Wulf continues, "It is a tool to further your goals, the way a pen lets you visualize and record your thoughts."
Essek nods thoughtfully. He looks much more confident with the scalpel, so Wulf holds the ruler up to his stomach for Essek to measure the cut.
"It is a tool," he repeats, "it will do most of the work for you. It takes very little pressure, all you need do is guide it."
The ruler had been Essek's insistence. A controlled variable, a repeatable parameter. He places the tip of the scalpel at the 3 centimeter mark and presses just enough for it to pierce Wulf's skin. His chest constricts in apprehension, but his hands stay steady. He guides the blade along the ruler back to zero. A perfect incision.
"Excellent," Wulf praises, and notes instantly how hard Essek has to work to hide that it moves him.
Wulf sets the ruler aside and Essek places the scalpel back in its neat little clothed divot on the conveniently placed tray. Essek sits beside the exam table and brings his hands near Wulf's wound. He feels a faint prickle as Essek begins an arcane exploration.
After a few minutes of nothing, Essek concluded, "It is not a matter of timelines. Even on this scale, I cannot reach one where the cut didn't happen, not even one where it is shorter or shallower. Perhaps if it was on my own person I could, but certainly not on another."
Wulf takes dutiful notes on a clipboard, laying back on the exam table, clipboard held aloft to not block Essek's view or light. He privately thinks that Essek should not have brought up experimenting on himself, because his Master will pounce on it, but he still notes it and he will still report it. It will be Essek's own fault for saying it.
The prickling at the wound changes to a buzzing and now something does happen. The wound doesn't close but it does scab abnormally fast.
"Hmm," is all Essek says at first, continuing to channel at the wound a while longer, but nothing more comes of it.
"I think it is only surface-level," Essek says finally, dropping his hands to his lap in defeat. "What is your assessment?"
Wulf carefully feels along around the incision. "Ja," he agrees, "scabbed, but nothing more. Not really healed, and only right at the surface."
"Not wholly unhelpful, but this method does nothing for a deeper cut or something internal."
"What is this method?" Wulf prompts.
"Your master's suggestion that healing through dunamancy could be achieved by rewinding time on the wound was ridiculous, but I think there may be hope in speeding up time, speeding the body's natural healing."
Now that Essek seems done with him, Wulf brings his knee up to rest the clipboard against, a little easier on his muscles. "And have you managed that?"
Essek really looks at him, maybe for the first time. He's been a background character for much of Essek's work with the Assembly and he's probably said too many lines to maintain that now. "What do you think?" he asks, not quite as coldly or suspiciously as Wulf expects.
Wulf considers his options. Things are not going well. Essek loathes Master Ikithon and their working relationship strains each day. Master Ikithon wants more from Essek, more commitment, more resources, more exposure, but Essek is starting to pull away. Making him cut Wulf was very nearly a mistake, but one that Wulf corrected. Master Ikithon spares Essek very little praise, but Wulf can compensate for that too. Maybe he can fix he even more.
"You might be limited by sight," Wulf offers, "the way many spells are. You were able to speed to the process at the surface because that's what you can see."
He pauses to assess Essek's reaction. Essek nods, but says nothing. He is waiting to see if Wulf will say more.
He wants Wulf to say more.
That's it, yes, he wants more from Wulf than a body to experiment on. He wants more from Master Ikithon than someone to work for. He wants someone to work with.
"It might be sight, but I think it's more," Wulf continues. He hesitates, for show, because he has to point out a limitation specific to Essek, a flaw in his knowledge. He pretends to think about sparing him the embarrassment, then pretends to decide it's too important to go unsaid. "Forgive me," he begins, humbly, "but I think the true limitation might be your understanding of the body's 'natural healing.'"
He feigns a wince and looks away, like he expects Essek to be insulted or insist there is nothing he does not know.
Instead, Essek's lips quirk briefly toward a smile before he schools his expression. "Exactly," he says.
Internally, Wulf preens at playing his part so perfectly. Externally, he glances carefully can at Essek, still pretending to expect retaliation. When none comes, he says, "You know a great many things I do not. It is no shame-"
"Skip the flattery," Essek cuts him off. "What is to be done about it?"
"The flattery" is an important step in dealing with the archmages of the Assembly, but Essek again proves himself to be a different breed of wizard. Perhaps Wulf should start treating him as such.
So he tries: "I know a great many things that you do not."
Oh, yes, that will do it. Essek's eyes practically sparkle and he leans forward, toward Wulf. He is not threatened by Wulf's competence, but excited about it.
"Teach me."