Phydralcs

He couldn't understand the mess of words. They hung in the air for half a second after the physical therapist spat them from her tight-lipped mouth, but that wasn't long enough for him to grab them, hold them, look at them, understand them. How could he figure out what was happening with his own body if he didn't know what this woman was saying? He had been assigned to her, had to trust his health with her, but couldn't even follow her words, let alone her sentences.

"And then we'll put you on the Maltya to get your phydralcs working again, how does that sound?" She ended her tirade with a finger pointed at his heart. Or maybe it was pointing at his arm. What was a phydralc? A tendon? A muscle? A molecule of blood?

"So what are you saying is actually wrong with me?" He was almost afraid to even ask, but he had to know what was going on. He had to take some control back.

But his question came too late. She was already turning to lead him down the hall to the room where he'd have to face the Brokquare, the Yevjen, the Powhale, and the Maltya. Whether he could conquer those beasts like the dragonslayers of old was still very much yet to be determined. Sighing, he limped along behind his trainer, hoping his grammals, his lurcides, his tepucepts, and his phydralcs could survive the upcoming battle.

*Inspired, once again, by a word verification when commenting on one of Janelle's blog posts.