The Runaway's Hope (Part 3)

Vola chipped away at the petrified corpse to find its core.
The powers of a dead familiar concentrated into the last organ to stop functioning. It was often the heart, brain, or liver. Suviklarg used the infused organs to fuel his magic.
She made progress by removing what used to be the deer’s hide, revealing countless crystal shards that had grown during the petrification. Each a small knife, ready to add to the web of long thin scars etched in along Vola’s blood stained arms. Digging through, she found the internal organs, appearing like unpolished quartz.
Vola yanked her hand back. Blood flowed around a broken crystal embedded in her finger. A memory of the forest, where the familiar had lived, clouded Vola’s eyes. The familiar’s fear of being hunted by a strange animal left a bitter taste in Vola’s mouth. The memory felt dead and was sucking her energy from her to be seen. The dead crystal meant the petrification process was complete.
Removing the crystal, she adjusted the wraps on her hands to continue her work. A mournful tear fell on her chisel.
The simple mat woven from the dried grasses she collected from the valleys below called to her. Vola shook her head and wiped away the tear.
As she piled the dusty stone organs next to the carcass shell, she was grateful to be alone with her emotions. More and more, the serpent kept to his chamber. On the increasingly rare instances when he came out to the main cavern, it was only to use the magic of the collected cores to regenerate his body. For weeks after, the serpent would have a new lease on life. The quartz scales were revitalized to a dark green. But, it never lasted long. As if his internal ancient magic was dwindling to nothing.
Vola hefted a quartz lung from the carcass. She carried it over to the empty wall where the previous cores had been stored.
Grinding stone noises now came from the back chamber. It gave Vola little warning as Suviklarg entered.
“Are the organs prepared?” The question pierced her mind.
She bowed. “Most of the animal’s organs have been removed and are ready for you to choose one, Master”
“Bring them.”
One by one, Vola brought the organs for inspection. The serpent’s front claws traced complicated patterns into the air over each one. Each of them failed to glow when he completed his magical gestures. The serpent hissed angrily. A grinding noise came as his tail smashed down on the false cores sending shards all over the floor. The psychic pressure Vola usually associated with her master observing her became more oppressive each time she returned to the shelves for another organ. Her chest tightened as the aura of desperation felt tangible.
The most powerful familiar cores Vola had seen resembled precious gems. Lesser cores appeared as common stone. Her master tested every organ to make sure the core was not missed. The waves of desperation seeping into Vola’s mind from the serpent ebbed away, replaced with a growing anger.
Vola hefted the deer’s liver. There should be a core underneath all of the petrified connective tissues. It had to be; there were no other options left.
She wished she could identify cores. It would be so much easier to only carry a core instead of the whole petrified carcass. Having magic would save her from the terror of this night. These thoughts lingered before Vola realized how dangerous it could be.
“You wish to have magic?” Suviklarg’s front feet thundered to the ground. His pupils narrowed as he approached.
“Forgive me, Master. I only wish to be...more.”
“More?” A deep rumble of a humorless laugh echoed through Vola’s head. “You struggle to be a competent slave. Not once have you killed a familiar for me. I had to do it. I, the greatest of dragons, had to sully myself by controlling your body. Disgusting!”
Suviklarg’s head had a hypnotic sway as he approached. Fear rose within Vola’s chest as a soothing feeling caressed her mind. She took a couple of tentative steps away from Suviklarg trying to hum a tune.
“Magic is not something you learn. It comes from within. It is a power you are born with.” Suviklarg’s crystalised scales scraped together with each step of his noisy approach. “You are a stupid beast of burden. How dare you believe you could ever become anything like me?”
“But why?” Vola found it difficult to concentrate under her master’s numbing influence. “Why do you need me?”
“I need a familiar of my own to control. As pathetic as humans are, they are effective hunters. Unfortunately, each human I draw to my lair is more arrogant and incompetent than the last. Free will is such a nuisance.”
Vola kept backing away from Suviklarg’s towering height. She struggled against the soothing influence from her master’s hypnotic sway. The same fear from the slain familiar’s memory swept over her like ice water.
She was being hunted.