Chukshene knelt beside the elf and pressed his palm against her forehead.
An hour ago, she'd been burning up. But now she seemed fine. He couldn't tell if that was a good thing or not.
The warlock licked his lips, then wiped his hand on his robe. He'd managed to drag her to the relative safety of one of the many trenches carved into the ground circling the smoldering embers of Spikewrist, but still wished he could've carried her further.
Unfortunately, she was more muscular, and therefore heavier, than her lean frame had hinted. Not used to the pressure of physical exertion, the warlock found the going tougher than he'd expected.
Resting against the shallow rise of the ditch, he ran his fingers through his greasy hair and wondered how much longer it would be until he knew if she would live or die.
It had been only hours, but it felt like days since she'd lost consciousness. Hours of constant fear while creeping quietly through the maze of trenches circling the ruined town as trolls, draug, and other nameless beasts had come close to killing them both.
He shuddered as he thought of the box opening in her hand.
The sight of the thick black cables of solid shadow flooding into her arm was something he would never forget. All he could do was watch in horror as a film of darkness spread under her skin like a monstrous wave.
Its fingers stretched up her neck, across her face, and even inside her mouth.
He'd wanted to run then.
Leave her. Never turn back.
But that part of him which had once spent too long in the tomb of an undead king couldn't turn away. It watched in terrified fascination as the blackness slowly submerged, leaving her skin unblemished. The whole process took only a few minutes of constant screaming from the elf.
Screaming which drew the unwanted attention of every hungry beast in the area.
Many creatures haunted the Deadlands. Some more disturbing than the rest. The burning town called them like a beacon, promising dead flesh to feed upon.
Living flesh, too, if they could catch it.
Shadowy figures ventured hesitantly onto the shattered plain. They'd come close before. He'd fought them off twice already.
But now they were back.
This time they'd even thought to bring friends.
Aware he couldn't stay where he was, the warlock dragged her unconscious body as far as he could and muttered constant prayers to Grim that whatever was coming to feed on any leftover carrion, wouldn't notice him hauling her away.
Wouldn't come looking for him.
Luck seemed to be with him, and he made it further from the doomed town. Away from where the twisted creatures would likely forage.
Also far enough not to hear the sound of them gnawing on raw meat and bone.
Though the fallen god had nothing to do with the creatures missing his position, he thanked Grim anyway. Then settled down to wait as the elf writhed in the grip of nightmarish dreams.
He studied her while she fought her internal struggle.
She was shorter than most elfs, but harder of muscle than most men he knew. It was the lean kind of muscle that came from years of fighting not only physical enemies, but countless hordes of inner demons.
Demons he wouldn't have been keen to summon out of their corrupted depths even if he could.
Her face, neither beautiful nor ugly, was marred by a vicious scar which began at the corner of her mouth and slashed up to a point just beneath her left eye before jagging out toward her ear. When she smiled, it gave her expression a cruelty that made the warlock shudder.
Black hair spread wildly in knotted lengths, thin ragged strips of cloth tightly interwoven into the locks. There was something about those strips that made the warlock uncomfortable. He was beginning to think they weren't meant for decoration.
Neither were the many knives and daggers which covered her body. Some gave him the creeps to look at.
In particular, the large enchanted blade sheathed on her hip. The one she called A Flaw in the Glass. He'd placed the blade in its sheath himself. But not before feeling a shiver of repugnance at the venomous green glow which encircled the wide upswept curve of the blade.
The heavily-patched clothes she wore were of black and dark green wyrmskin and the warlock couldn't tell the difference between the original uniform and recent modifications. The many new rips and tears would soon need her attention.
Looking at the damaged clothing made him think of the new wounds she'd suffered at the hands of the Lichspawn, including a ghastly rip across her rib which he'd tried to cover by using a few strips of cloth torn from an undershirt carried in his pack.
Though he'd had no training as a healer, he'd done his best to attend her wounds.
Not that it seemed he needed to make the effort.
With a narrowing of his eyes, the warlock had watched the elf's flesh begin to knit quickly and, though he knew little about elfs, he didn't think this was normal.
So, he'd stopped tearing up his undershirt and stuffed it back into his pack. Chose instead to sit back and watch as blood stopped flowing from the many slashes in her skin. As lumps of shadow swelled and faded beneath her open wounds.
"This isn't good," he mumbled, wishing there was enough light to read his grimoire by.
He didn't want to make any light for fear of drawing the creatures roaming the plain. But he itched to know what it was that had driven Gaket's shadows from her body and was now making itself a home inside her.
He had his suspicions, of course. But there was a chance he was wrong.
Not much of a chance, though. After all, she had opened a cage.
The warlock gnawed on the inside of his cheek, wondering who she would be when she woke.
And the thought scared him more than all the trolls feasting behind him.
***
📚 Want more?Get bonus chapters, exclusive short stories, and behind-the-scenes lore on patreon.com/lucasthorn or even visit my discord via https://discord.gg/tnCvCH59Your support helps me keep writing and means the world.
🖤 If you're enjoying the story, here's how you can help:
Tap 💖 Add to Library so you don't miss updates
Leave a review — even a short one helps
Rate this story with stars
Comment and let me know what you think!
Even small actions go a long way in helping this story grow.Thanks for reading! you're awesome!