Uni is, as it should, taking up a large part of my life, and I'm preoccupying myself on deviantART by joining SDL…

This chapter feels really short for some reason (while it's not, relatively), but I have no idea how to lead the end of this into a new scene, so here it is. Pardon the sucky title, too.

I wanna thank those who started reading my 'fic from scratch, and those ever-faithful reviewers. In particular, I really have to thank Emmy, for her second opinions, and more importantly for literally SHAMING me into writing this chapter. Thanks, Emmy, one way or the other.

Disclaimer: I'm as tardy as Blizzard is when it comes to Diablo-ness, but they own it, I don't.

Chapter 29

Obligatory

Dim points of light flicker in the dark, futile in their efforts to illuminate the darkness.

Flash of jade green, my hand before my eyes, coated in sticky black.

Flash. Jade green turned a bitter olive.

My tongue closing around my cold fingers.

The blood was salty and it tingled my tongue like crazy. I swallowed, and it burned all the way down my throat and into my stomach.

I wanted more.

I consumed as the blood burned away at my stomach, my throat, my mouth, my lips. My own fresh blood, sweeter and thinner, mingling with the black blood of the slain…

Mingling within me –

"Celadon."

A hand on my shoulder; I jerked awake to find that I had fallen off the chair some time during the night, and my head was on the bed where my master rested. I did not even know when I fell asleep…

"Have you been here all night?"

It was Nyhl's voice. I tried to raise my head and felt a kink in my neck. I worked it out as softly as I could as my eyes adjusting to the odd lighting. The various shades of green were still dancing behind my eyelids as I blinked.

"What time is it?"

"Should be about an hour after dawn, but a huge storm's coming in." He offered me a hand and I took it, getting onto my feet. "How is she?" Nyhl asked. I turned my eyes to him – he was dressed already, but his colour was sickly.

"Asheara said she'll be all right. She got treatment in time, so there shouldn't be any permanent damage. She just needs to take it easy for a few days." I sat on the edge of the bed, and while I used my fingers to fix my disarrayed hair into something neater, I kept my eyes on the Necromancer. He probably did not sleep very well during the night, but upon hearing my answer, he was visibly relieved.

"That's good." He said plainly.

"What about you?"

"I'll be fine." He replied. I turned the chair toward him and he accepted it gratefully. "I suppose we shouldn't have taken it that far. We were lucky to have gotten out in time."

"Wow, just how far did you go?"

"All the way up to the Travincal. We kind of had no choice. They approached us first."

"Who?"

"The former high council members of Kurast, I suppose. Being physically so close to Mephisto himself must have had them corrupted."

It was awkward talking to him. It occurred to me that we did not even greet one another properly. This was the second time I talked to him one-on-one, the previous time being the talk in the Sewers, just after we had obtained the heart. I felt apprehensive talking to him again after that little lecture he gave me, I must admit.

As if he had read my mind, Nyhl grinned tiredly and broke the silence. "This is the second time we've talked like this."

"Um-hmm."

"Don't be so uptight; I said all that I had to say back there. You're the sort of person who holds onto these kinds of things and think about it over and over again, aren't you?"

"It's just that…" I realised that my voice was inappropriately raised – Oread was still unconscious in bed, after all. I pushed my voice down to a lower notch. "That wasn't the first time I'd done something like that. It seems to get worse every time."

Nyhl watched me for a moment before he spoke. "How old are you, Celadon? And how long have you been following Oread for?"

"I'm seventeen, and Oread took me as her mercenary about fives months ago… maybe six? I can't remember for sure."

"That's a short time you've been given to get used to this way of life." Said Nyhl with an absolutely neutral tone that dissolved the tense atmosphere. I brought my eyes up to meet his… and I could tell that he needs so much more rest than he had allowed himself. "Then again, there are people who've lived such a life for tens of years, and still one day their sanities decide that they've had enough."

His words had sped up substantially towards the end, as if he was trying to dismiss them as quickly as possible. He looked away from me. "In any case, you don't seem like the sort of person who'd succumb to this easily. There's nothing more I can say to you, really."

"Okay."

Silence took hold of the small room again, and I hugged my knees to my chest, watching my feet. Nyhl did not propose a topic for conversation, either.

It really was very uncomfortable.

We spent a good few minutes in utter silence; I kept my head down, and watched the change of colours on the floorboards, and the shadows cast by the rising sun as it tried to shine through the thickening clouds. The air was starting to soak up the humidity from the clouds overhead that formed the potential storm; it was kind of warm and there was no wind.

I never really liked overcast days, but now it felt good. It felt so much different from the cold of the blood-soaked Sewers, where the air sucked up the smell of stagnant doom and whispered about the emptiness, where every minute scrap of sound ricocheted off the walls.

Cold, wetness, blood, emptiness. These seem to characterise my moments of insanity –

The blood on the walls of the Palace of Lut Gholein.

The underground chill of the Claw Viper Temple.

The lifeless, hollow emptiness of the Forgotten Tower.

And at the end, there's the Dark Wood, when I first discovered the sadomasochistic pleasure of it all. I can't remember if it was drizzling that day… it seemed like it was always raining a bit in Westmarch –

A tug on the blanket as Oread shifted in her sleep.

"I'm sorry I've let this happen to her."

I jumped. Partially from Oread's sudden movement, but mostly from the Necromancer's unexpected outburst. "Beg y'pardon?" I burbled.

"I shouldn't have let her get hurt."

I opened my mouth and wondered what would come out, but I was interrupted. "Shut up about that, you bloody Necromancer, or you will get hurt."

That made both Nyhl and I jump. Oread was lying on her side, her eyes still closed. I wondered how long she had been listening in on our conversation.

"Don't move." Oread commanded, and I heard the soft squeak of the floorboards; Nyhl must have tried to get out of the chair. I wondered, at the back of my mind, how Oread knew what he was going to do when her eyes were shut. "Stop acting like you're the one who's better off here."

"If you insist, Captain."

"Now you're asking for death, idiot Necromancer." Oread finally opened her eyes to give Nyhl a fierce glare.

Nyhl just smiled, rather appreciatively, I noticed. "I'm glad you're feeling better."

"How 'bout you?" Oread's fierceness subsided for an instant. "Seriously, why are you even out of bed? Get back to bed. Now."

"Right now, Oread, there's only one bed in this room."

Oread frowned; her eyes narrowed to sharpen her glare, and her lips shaped themselves into a pout. "What the hell are you suggesting, you Necromantic bastard?"

Nyhl looked at Oread; whether he was feigning the ignorance or if it were genuine, I could not tell. "What? What are you suggesting?"

"You're gonna die the moment I can get my hands on you." Oread spat back, then her eyes widened and she buried her face hard into the pillow. "Damn, that didn't come out well."

Nyhl still had his clueless expression down pat. "Maybe it's just your mind that's in the sewers, Oread."

Oread's voice was muffled by the pillow, but the childish tone of defeat in it was obvious. "For the sake of all that is holy, just shut up."

Nyhl chuckled, but it sounded somewhat strained. "How hard can you laugh before you scream out in pain, Necromancer?" Oread turned her face from the pillow and jeered.

"Isn't this kind of fooling around a little masochistic?" He tried to make it subtle, but I saw that he had moved his arm to hold his side, which was probably protesting from the laugh.

"You are masochistic, you retard; the more you talk, the more I'll beat you up when I can."

"Well, then I'd better make good use of the time I have left."

It was an odd context, and the humour was rather dark, but their conversation sounded so casual. I had never seen Oread joke with another person like this – she was enjoying it, I could tell; even if she tried not to appear so. That and the fact that it was so awkward between Nyhl and I before Oread joined in… it made me feel jealous, somehow.

"Honestly though, how long do you think it'll be before we can head out again?" Nyhl moved the topic on; I was grateful for that. Maybe I was just oversensitive, but their little joking session sounded rather… flirtatious to me. It made me think of Jerhyn, and when Nyhl's question brought me back to reality, I found myself fumbling with Jerhyn's ring.

"How long will you take?" Oread replied with a question of her own. It seemed weird to me, that she was acting as if he was the one in worse shape.

"Give me a fortnight."

"With or without potion-guzzling?"

"With."

"You should stop doing that. It can't be good for you." Oread managed to sit herself up. "Is a month okay? Celadon?"

"Huh?" I had been playing the spectator in this whole scene for so long, it kind of surprised me when Oread asked for my opinion. "I'm –"

I stopped short as I heard voices outside. All three of us turned towards the door, then –

BANG!

The door flung open, and in fell Leaf, Deckard Cain and Natalya.

"What the hell are you guys doing?" Oread yelled, and then her body convulsed and she doubled over into a coughing fit.

Leaf got out from under Cain, arranged her hair quickly, and pulled a face of extreme irritation. She signed with her hands and vigorous shakes of the head that the door opened outwards, and that she had told them they were too close to the door to open it.

"Miss Natalya, if you wanted to listen in, you could have done it by yourself instead of squashing all of us against the door." Cain got to his feet with Leaf's help.

I just realised now that Nyhl had gotten beside Oread, and was trying to sooth her coughing by running his hand over her upper back. It seems that sometime during their trip to the Travincal, Oread had learned to accept help from the Necromancer without trying to tear his head off.

"You know, when there's a door, you can knock on it." I said coldly to the new crowd. It was an inappropriate time to make such a level of noise.

Leaf apologised.

"So what were you doing outside? Were you trying to eavesdrop or were you actually going to come in?" Asked Nyhl.

"Miss Natalya wanted to listen in. It was only the two of us trying to come in at first, but she joined us as we got here." Cain explained, settling himself into a chair. "So how's everyone today?"

"Dead." Oread managed to snap as she gasped for breath. "If you've got no better thing to do, just nick off, Natalya."

Natalya, as usual, looked to be amused by Oread's annoyance. "Oh, I didn't mean to bother you. I just wanted to see how the little Necromancer is doing."

Nyhl's brows furrowed; he might not have realised it, but he shifted closer to Oread, so that he was more or less between her and Natalya. For a moment he seemed to consider letting it go, but the instant passed, and the voice that projected from him was one of warning. "Can't you just leave us alone already? Do you find it so interesting to stir us up all the time?"

"You're twenty-two this year, aren't you?"

"So you guessed right, what about it?"

"Well, as someone with five years more life experience than you have, I'm suggesting that you and your bitch there shouldn't go out like that again."

Oread made a jolt that might have been an attempt to pounce at the Assassin. Nyhl planted his hand firm onto her shoulder to settle her back down; that earned him a quick accusatory glare, which, a split second later, was redirected at Natalya. "You dare say that again –"

"Going into the jungle with insufficient force is suicide," Natalya's grin diminished, and was replaced by a severe scowl. "I don't know what exactly you ran into out there, but you've gotten to the point that two people is just not enough, understood?"

"Since when do you care about our lives, Natalya?" Gripping his side with one hand, Nyhl actually managed to get to his feet. This was the first time I had ever heard him raise his voice, even if it was just by a little bit. "You might as well spit it out now; what do you want?"

"I'm joining you."

"No, you're not."

"I'm not asking for your permission. I'm just telling you that I'm going out there with you next time." Natalya was almost a foot shorter than Nyhl, but with her hands on her hips, her chin held high and her posture stern, her presence outweighed his by far. "As far as I know, none of you can use something like this –"

She reached a hand behind her and pulled something from the back of her belt. It was a flail – three steel fist-sized balls with sharp spikes protruding from them in all directions connected to a foot-long metal rod, which decorated with vein-like designs of silver and the dark surface dusted with crushed-up gems, refracting a rich spectrum of colours. The connections were made by thick, sturdy chains of iron. The chains themselves hang to a foot in length, and carved upon on each link is a unique rune.

"Khalim's Will." With strong but graceful movements of the wrist, Natalya swung the spheres around. The spikes ripped through the air with a clean but heavy and brutal sound. "Cain kinda assembled this himself. I hope he hasn't messed up your luggage."

"What… Cain!!" Oread yelled, and then bent over with coughs and gags again. Nyhl looked back and for that split second, his anger disappeared.

"I think she meant to say that she'll kill you for going through her stuff." I grumbled at Cain. This whole situation was annoying me. I felt lost with whatever Natalya and Cain were going on about, and left out with the exchanges between Nyhl and my master. "Was it really so urgent? Surely you have a good reason for through a woman's belongings?"

"I was just… so anxious to see the reformation of Khalim's relics." Cain looked so pathetic; he made me want to just channel my irritation at everything towards him. "Do you realise that this is the key to the very lair of Mephisto, the Lord of Hatred himself?"

"So what? You just come bursting into this room and expect us to cooperate with you on everything?" My words rendered themselves into a shout. Behind Cain, Leaf crossed her arms and rolled her eyes.

"Admit it, that's the only way you can go, and you guys need my help." Natalya jeered.

I could feel my ears burning, but realistic thinking kept me silent. She was right; we barely managed it with three people down in the Sewers, and the recent trip with two people was a fiasco. If we were to venture into more dangerous domains, we could really do with some additional power.

Silence fell abruptly upon the room. Apparently Oread and Nyhl considered this, too.

"This room is getting crowded." Nyhl finally eased the situation. "Why don't we talk about this later? Master Cain, now that you've satisfied your desire to see the holy relic, I think you owe a certain lady an apology."

Cain mumbled something, his exact words rendered incoherent by his head's deep inclination and the tiny volume of his voice. Oread dismissed him with a crude wave, apparently still recovering from the most recent coughing fit.

"Trust you to be the rational one calling the shots, little Nyhl." Natalya did a half-turn towards the door, her stance accentuating her feminine curves, from her neck all the way down to her legs.

For once, Nyhl did not look to be disturbed by her seductive behaviour. He just kept his eyes fixed upon hers. "Stop calling me that." He spoke with a deadly serious tone, disproportionate to the casual contents of the sentence.

Natalya smiled and shook her head once, softly. As she stepped towards the door, I could hear the darkness in her voice. "That's the exact reaction I'd expect from a younger brother."

The door shut behind Natalya as Nyhl staggered backwards and fell into the chair, the little colour in his face draining away. He dropped his face into his hands. "Master Cain, Leaf, please go… it's going to start pouring soon."

I was not sure if what he said actually made sense, but Cain seized the chance to exit the scene with some grace. Leaf came over to me, gave me a quick farewell hug somewhat cautiously, and followed the mage.

"Are you okay?" Oread found her voice at last. "What's the deal between you and Natalya, anyway? First it seemed that she had the hots for you or something, now… I don't know what to call it."

"She was only playing around before." Nyhl lifted his head; his eyes were narrowed and he was frowning slightly, as if he was deep in concentration. "I don't know why, but I think… somehow, she hates me."

Oread grunted. "Still, we have to work with her. You know that, right?" She rested her head on one hand. "She's been around this area; she knows this place better than any of us. We haven't really seen any, but she has valuable skills for sure."

"Is it that tough?" I asked. I did not like Natalya much. She disrupted the mood all the time during conversations, and always escalated a neutral situation to the point that it turned explosive. "Are the three of us not enough to handle Mephisto's minions?"

"I don't know about those monsters, but I've seen enough to make me want to take up her offer, believe it or not." Oread shifted her gaze to Nyhl. "I mean, she did have a point. Didn't Ormus or someone say that we need Khalim's Will to get to Mephisto? We can't get to the Pandemonium Fortress without going pass Mephisto, apparently, and Natalya's the only one around who can use that weird flail."

"If it has to be done this way, so be it." Nyhl sighed. "As long as she doesn't try to kill me along the way."

"I won't let her do that." Said Oread quickly. "I won't let her have the fun of doing that before I can."

"Thanks for the reassurance." The Necromancer replied, his tone completely devoid of humour.

Oread opened her mouth and made a soft nasal sound, but then decided to hold her tongue.

Overhead, a single thunder clapped furiously, and the rain began.