The Long Hunt (v0.0.1) by Iamvile26

Aldric drags himself out of that mine broken and bleeding, and the only healer willing to see him at that hour operates out of Valdmere's darkest district. She fixes the wound. She gives him a vial. She smiles like she knows something he doesn't. He drinks it. He sleeps. By morning, his skin is softer. By Day 3, his waist has pulled in. By Day 7, the mirror is showing him something he doesn't have a name for yet. The alchemist who made the potion has vanished. The stall is gone. Nobody remembers her face. And the transformation moves forward whether Aldric is ready for it or not, one sleepless morning at a time, one cracked reflection at a time, one conversation with Mira that neither of them knows how to finish. Thirty days before it becomes permanent. Somewhere in this city or beyond it answers exist. The question The Wrong Potion keeps asking isn't whether Aldric finds the antidote. It's whether he still wants it when he does.