Hey guys, welcome back to Hear a Tale! Got a long one for today - but first, review time!
Thanks so much to CitrusChickadee for reviewing! Poor Cyrus just...doesn't get it XD Maybe Alfyn could give him a few pointers for talking to people, haha!
And with that, on with the tale!
Relevant Events: Cyrus' Chapter Two
17. Blood
"It looks like someone's been coming in and out of these sewers," Therion observed, kneeling on the ground just outside of the entrance to Quarrycrest's sewer system.
"Mhm…as we expected," Cyrus mused.
"Muddy footprints on the floor and handprints on the wall." Therion ran his hand over the wall, grimacing slightly when his fingertips came away covered in mud. "Recent too. The mud is still wet."
Cyrus' eyebrows lifted as he nodded. "I see…that is very useful information. I must say, you have a keen eye, to spot such subtle signs."
The thief shrugged. "It's just experience. Albeit experience I never thought would be useful to you…heh."
Cyrus chuckled lightly despite himself. "Your accuracy is the result of careful study, and gives you valuable skills. You see…" The scholar caught Therion's dull look, then quickly cleared his throat, shaking his head. "Oh, but we don't have time for a discussion now, however interesting. Perhaps I'll share my insights later."
"Don't worry about it," Therion said, straightening up. "Your lectures give me a headache."
Thoroughly taken aback, Cyrus blinked, for once rendered momentarily speechless.
Therion glanced at him, one eyebrow raised. "...too honest?" he asked, though he sounded decidedly unbothered.
"...a little, yes," Cyrus answered. Then, he shook his head once more. "Ah, but…never mind that. Come, Therion, let us investigate these sewers properly."
"Lead the way, Professor."
With that, the scholar and the thief entered the dark tunnel that led into the city's sewer system. They had left the rest of their companions behind, figuring that a smaller group would draw less attention and allow for more furtive movements. As such, Cyrus had specifically chosen Therion for the task, much to the younger man's chagrin.
As the two of them crept through the shadowed tunnels, Therion lit the lantern he held with a small spark of fire magic. A few torches already burned on the walls, but their light was still quite fleeting. The only sounds in the sewers were the rushing of water and the tentative taps of their own footsteps, creating an eerie atmosphere that instantly set them both on edge.
"Well…" Therion mumbled, his visible eye narrowed into an emerald slit, "...if there's torches still lit down here, then it confirms that someone passed through fairly recently. And I don't know about you, but I doubt it was just someone doing maintenance work…"
"Indeed…" Cyrus nodded, suppressing a shudder. "I do not know why the missing townsfolk were taken to this place, but…well, let us simply say that I grow more worried for their wellbeings by the second."
"Mhm…agreed."
They moved uncontested through the sewers for several minutes, delving so deep into the tunnels that they could not have caught a glimpse of the light of day even if they had turned around and searched for it. After a time, however, once they had almost reached the very end of the walkway they moved across, Therion stopped dead in his tracks, his eye widening.
"...do you smell that?" he whispered, as though suddenly afraid that someone would overhear.
Cyrus hesitated, not particularly willing to attempt taking a deep breath as close as they were to the rushing river of wastewater, but after a moment or two, he was able to pick out the scent that Therion was talking about. It was faint, at first, but when Cyrus took a few tentative steps further towards the end of the sewers, where a lone doorway stood, the odor grew stronger. It was an acrid scent, heavy and with a tinge of rusted iron.
Blood.
The scholar turned back to face the thief, eyes wide and questioning, though he dared not speak. Therion held up a hand, motioning for Cyrus to stay where he was. He handed his lantern off to the older man, then began creeping towards the doorway, his boots making no sound on the damp stone floor.
Cyrus stood stock still and watched, a feeling of dread rising within him. The notion of a mystery had been exciting enough when it was still an abstract concept, still merely a puzzle to be solved. It was admittedly quite different now that the thief and the scholar had found themselves in the thick of it, alone in the depths of the sewers with the scent of blood thickening with every step they took. For the first time, Cyrus began to wonder if making this journey had been such a good idea at all.
As soon as the thought entered his mind, however, he quickly quashed it, grimacing at his own doubts. There were people's lives at stake here. The circumstances were uncomfortable, no doubt, but any discomfort on his part paled in comparison to whatever those poor kidnapped people may have gone through up to this point. Taking a deep breath, Cyrus steeled himself, banished any thoughts of backing out now, and turned his attention back to Therion at the door.
The thief carefully peered into the room, then drew in a sharp gasp once he had caught a glimpse of whatever was inside. He lingered a moment longer in the doorway, possibly checking to see if they were truly alone or not, then hurried back to Cyrus. Therion took the lantern back, its light revealing his wide eye and pale face.
"There's no one in there except the captured villagers," he said softly, though his voice was strained. "But…" he shook his head. "Shit. You'd better come take a look at this, Cyrus."
It was a dire situation indeed if Therion was so serious that he called Cyrus by his name instead of coming up with some sarcastic nickname.
"Show me," the professor said urgently, and the two of them swept back towards the doorway. Cyrus was not entirely sure what he had been expecting, but the sight he was met with upon reaching the room's entrance caused his breath to catch in his throat and his heart to miss a beat.
"Good gods…" he whispered faintly.
The stone room was small, and only a single torch hung on the back wall. However, the area was awash in dim, crimson light, originating not from the flames, but from a strange, circular drawing spanning most of the center of the floor. The circle was bright red and had intricate, arcane runes inscribed across the entire center of it. Inside the innermost ring, there was a handful of deep red crystals, each of them glowing with their own faint light as well.
Even more crystals rested on a table in the corner, just barely bright enough to illuminate the metal bars of a jail cell on the back wall a few feet away. Cyrus could not see any movement inside, but it almost looked as though there were a few slumped figures scattered about on the floor.
Far more jarring, however, was the man strapped to a board against the wall, directly across from where Therion and Cyrus stood. His wrists and ankles were bound with iron cuffs, and his head slumped forward, motionless. Two other wooden boards stood empty on either side of him, and several red barrels littered the floor nearby, along with what looked disturbingly like bones in a particularly darkened corner.
"What the hell did we just stumble into?" Therion hissed, clutching the hilt of his dagger so tightly that his knuckles turned nearly as white as his hair.
Cyrus shook his head, dazed. "I…I do not know…"
The scholar took a few careful steps into the room, slowly taking in the myriad of disturbing images before his eyes. "...I do say, to think there were such elaborate structures under the surface…" he said softly, attempting to keep his voice light and unwavering. It did not quite work.
"Are you sure you should be doing that!?" Therion whispered harshly as Cyrus stepped into the strange circle on the floor to examine it closer. "We don't know what that thing is!"
Before Cyrus could answer, however, a loud snap echoed through the room, startling both the thief and the scholar. Cyrus whirled around to see that the shackles on the middle board had suddenly given way, and the man strapped to it had crumpled to the floor. The professor rushed to his side, kneeling down and moving his hand just beneath the man's nose to check for breath.
Nothing. Not even the slightest hint of an exhale.
"...he's dead," Cyrus said softly, leaning back on his heels. He turned back to Therion, who had inched a bit further into the room, his face ashen. "But…what in the heavens is this?" Cyrus stood and gestured at the red barrels and odd markings on the floor, his mouth twisted in a grimace.
"Hell if I know," Therion grumbled, shifting uncomfortably. "But whatever it is, it doesn't look like any of the villagers survived this damned freakshow. And I don't know about you, but I'm not too keen on joining them, so we'd best get out of here before whoever did this comes back and catches us."
Cyrus, however, paid the thief no mind. He glanced back down at the man's body, frowning. "It's as if the blood was drained from his body…" he mused, noting the sheet-white, sunken-in appearance of the corpse. "And…what is this atop these strange patterns?"
Ignoring Therion's groan of frustration, Cyrus stepped back into the strange circle and knelt down near the center, studying the crystals lying before him. His expression darkened as the scent of blood grew noticeably stronger. "Clearly, some baleful sorcery has been practiced here…"
"You think!?" Therion glared at the scholar, then glanced anxiously back at the doorway. "Seriously, Cyrus, I do not think we should stay here for much longer. I've got a bad feeling about all of this…"
The professor did not seem to hear him. He picked up one of the gems, tentatively sniffing it, then grimacing at its metallic scent. Cyrus stood, watching the firelight glint off of the crystal's surface. "These gemstones. Why, if my hypothesis is correct…" His frown deepened as the light revealed strange clots in the center of the stone. "...they must be composed of crystallized human blood!"
"All the more reason to get the hell out of here before whatever crazy bastard did this comes back!" Therion snapped. "Would you listen to me for two seconds!?"
"And yet, it is as if myriad hues of red are mixed together…" Cyrus murmured, squinting at the firelit crystal. "Could it be that each gem contains the blood of multiple victims…?" His expression turned grave. "Good gods, what horrors have been wrought here…? How many innocents have been victimized by this blood-sucking sorcerer!?"
"I feel like I'd have better luck talking to the wall at this point," Therion deadpanned. Though he winced in discomfort as he did so, he stepped into the circle along with Cyrus, grabbing the scholar's shoulder and shaking it to finally get his attention. "Listen! What happened here was obviously terrible, and I feel for the victims, really, I do. But we don't know what kind of threat we're dealing with, other than the fact that they're obviously screwed in the head. If we're not careful, we may end up joining those victims, so I'd suggest getting the hell away from this place and regrouping with everyone else. Make sense?"
Cyrus blinked, then shook his head to clear it. "Yes, yes, of course. Excellent idea." He exhaled. "At least now we know the motive behind the kidnappings…the villain we are dealing with is no common criminal, that much is certain." The scholar hesitated, his face paling. "No…I am loath to even call him a human being. Sucking the life from the men and women of this poor town, only to cast them away…this is a veritable demon who walks among us!"
"Glad you agree," Therion said flatly, "but the theatrics really aren't necessary right now."
"Right, right, sorry." Cyrus frowned. "Well…one thing is clear - this monster must be stopped before he can commit any more vile deeds. Though I believe that you are correct in your assertion that we will have a greater chance of victory if we have the aid of the rest of our companions. We should leave…" He glanced down at the blood stone he still held, his frown deepening.
Therion pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing deeply. "...if you've got more to say, then just hurry up and say it."
The professor shook his head. "It's nothing, really, just…as an academic, I must confess that the history of the dark arts intrigues me. But to put them into practice…? This is truly beyond the pale. Ah, but…you are right, we should leave quick - "
Suddenly, he was cut off by a frail, hacking cough towards the back of the room. Both the scholar and the thief jumped, whipping around to stare at the shadowed cell, where one of the forms near the bars was beginning to twitch.
"What's this!?" Cyrus exclaimed, abandoning all thoughts of leaving and instead rushing to the cell door, kneeling by the fidgeting figure. After a moment's observation, he looked back at Therion over his shoulder, eyes wide. "The young lady in this cell…she still lives!"
Therion's jaw dropped momentarily. "What!?" He hurried over to join Cyrus, falling to one knee beside him. He too studied the young woman, taking in her pallid, sunken complexion and blank, half-lidded eyes - yet still, she drew breath. "The hell…? How did she survive all this!?"
"I do not know," Cyrus said, shaking his head, "but what matters is that she did. Quickly, Therion - we must free her, lest she suffer the same fate as the others. Can you take care of this lock?"
"Do you even have to ask?" Though he cast a wary glance over his shoulder, back at the doorway, the thief pulled out his lockpicks, positioning himself in front of the cell's lock. His fingers moved swiftly, and within mere moments, there was a light click and the door swung open with a soft creak.
However, before either of them could step inside the cell to assist the young woman, a voice from the entrance of the room stopped them both in their tracks.
"...and who might you be?"
Therion drew in a sharp breath, grimacing. "...damn it," he hissed, slowly stowing his lockpicks in favor of his dagger.
Cyrus cautiously turned and watched a man enter the room and move to stand just outside the circle on the floor, staring at the two of them the entire time. The man was clad in a long, black cloak, hood raised to shroud his eyes in shadow. From what little Cyrus could see of his face, the man appeared gaunt and sickly pale, with the occasional odd twitch in his jaw. Most alarming, however, was the bottle of red liquid he carried in one hand, as well as the crimson-stained sickle he held in the other.
It didn't exactly take much strenuous thought to realize that they had found their culprit.
Careful not to make any sudden movements, Cyrus took a few slow steps back towards the center of the room, standing on the opposite side of the circle, across from the newcomer. His steps equally as deliberate, Therion crept up beside him, standing ready at the professor's side. "Just a scholar of no particular repute," Cyrus said modestly, "along with a…friend of mine."
The man's hollow eyes flicked over to the open door of the cell. "...a friend with a proclivity for picking locks, I see."
"Yes, well, ah…" Cyrus cleared his throat. "Well, in any case, we were merely passing through, and could not help but notice these odd gemstones? Are they perhaps your work?"
The man's eyes narrowed, but he said nothing.
Cyrus gulped, but he kept his voice as even as possible. "And these strange glyphs. Are they not runes of High Hornburgian?"
"Is now really the best time for a history lesson?" Therion whispered roughly, though Cyrus held up a hand to silence him.
The cloaked man tilted his head slightly, though when he spoke, he remained impassive. "Are they now?" he asked lightly.
"The tomes of ancient Hornburg were lost long ago," Cyrus replied carefully. "No ordinary scholar would be privy to this knowledge." His expression darkened. "But how could any self-respecting academic perform such horrors?"
"Oho." The man smiled thinly. "Seems you're more of a scholar than you give yourself credit for." He took a step forward, brandishing his sickle ominously.
Therion lifted his dagger, but Cyrus glanced back at the jail cell, frowning. "...they still live, yes? Some of them, at least…" He turned back to face the man, eyes narrowed into dark slits. "If you know what's best for you, you'll free them at once."
The man scoffed. "Well, since you asked so nicely…no, I think not." He grinned, his jaw twitching a few times before it settled. "A shame. If only you hadn't come poking around in my secrets, I wouldn't have minded picking your brain. Unfortunately for you, though, no one's ever accused Gideon of being too soft…" His eyes flashed with a mad light. "Now I'll have to settle for sucking your blood!"
"Gross," Therion grunted, crouching down in a fighting stance.
The man - Gideon, evidently - lunged, swinging his sickle in a wide arc as he aimed an attack at both of them at once. In one swift movement, Therion brought his dagger up to block, metal clashing against metal with a loud clang. The thief shoved Cyrus back, then made a strike of his own against Gideon, giving the professor room enough to compose himself and prepare a magical attack.
Cyrus wasted no time, preparing a ball of fire in one hand and crackling electricity in the other. "Watch yourself, Therion!" he called out, and once the thief had leaped to the side, leaving Gideon wide open, Cyrus unleashed his magic in the cloaked man's direction.
The flame attack went just barely too wide, but the lightning struck true. The electricity surged into the metal sickle, traveling down through Gideon's hand, arm, torso, and leg in its journey to the ground. Gideon screeched in agony, though the charge hadn't been strong enough to kill him outright. It certainly did not help with his overall twitchiness, however, and every movement he made from there on out was performed with a strange jerk and a lack of coordination.
Unfortunately for Cyrus and Therion, however, it did not mean that Gideon was out of the fight. The man raised both of his arms, screaming out an incantation in a language that not even Cyrus understood. The blood in the bottle he held began to glow, red mist seeping out of the top as Gideon chanted. Therion, who had been about to make another strike, quickly backed up at the sight of the dark sorcery, his eye wide.
The mist rushed to the darkest corners of the room, curling around the bones scattered there. As the scholar and the thief watched, momentarily stunned, the bones began to rattle, then rose up into the air, assembling themselves into two crude humanoid skeletons, barely held together by ragged sinew formed from the blood mist. The skeletons began to move of their own volition, rattling and clacking as they stumbled forward, one approaching Therion while the other targeted Cyrus. Gideon, meanwhile, retreated to the other side of the room, letting his new skeletal warriors distract his opponents while he recovered from Cyrus' lightning blast.
"If we get out of here alive, remind me to never let you talk me into going alone with you on a mission again!" Therion snapped as he jumped out of the way of the skeleton's swiping arm. The thief ducked closer to the ground, sweeping his leg out to kick the creature in its bony shins. The skeleton's legs were brittle enough to break, its bones scattering out across the floor, but it did not take long for the fallen bones to glow red, floating back into place and allowing the skeleton to stand once more.
"Duly noted!" Cyrus backed up, eyes narrowed in thought as he considered his options. Clearly, merely breaking the bones into several pieces would not suffice - the only way to prevent the skeletons from reforming would be to destroy their bone material completely. And if he remembered correctly, did bones not burn at temperatures comparable to the average blast of fire magic? In that case, the logical course of action was only too clear.
"O flames!" he called, letting twin spheres of fire begin to burn in each of his hands. "Rage strong!" Cyrus thrust both of his arms out, sending jets of flame surging out to engulf the skeleton advancing towards him. The monster's rattling soon fell silent as its bones rapidly melted and disintegrated under the intense heat of the scholar's attack. Cyrus refused to let the flames die out until every one of the bones was no longer intact, preventing the skeleton from reforming itself any longer. Red mist hung uselessly amidst the scattered ash on the floor, as there was nothing left for it to animate.
Therion quickly caught on to Cyrus' strategy, and a smirk crossed his face. "Hey, asshole!" he taunted his own skeletal opponent. "Don't play with fire!" Though the thief was not as adept with magic as the scholar was, he was still more than capable of creating a blazing wave of wildfire and sending it hurtling towards the second skeleton. The monster had just enough time to let its jaw comically drop before it too was scorched away to nothing.
Gideon cursed loudly, his back pressed against the wall as Cyrus and Therion rounded on him. He glanced towards the doorway frantically, perhaps considering making a run for it, but he never got the chance. Quick as a flash, Therion's dagger flew across the room, finding purchase in the man's shoulder. Gideon screeched, doubling over at the pain, and stalling his escape long enough for Cyrus to cross the room and stand before him, his expression grim.
"It is my regret that it has come to this," Cyrus said gravely, eyes narrowed, "however, after what you have done to these villagers in your pursuit of dark sorcery…I'm afraid I cannot allow you to leave here with your life."
The scholar steeled himself, summoning ice magic to his fingertips. Before Gideon could even utter a syllable in response, Cyrus' hand was pressed to the man's chest, tendrils of deathly cold frost snaking out from his touch and spreading across Gideon's body until it was completely frozen solid. Though his stomach turned at what he had just done, Cyrus did not let it show on his face, instead merely nudging the frozen man over until he fell to the floor, shattering on the ground. The bottle of blood he had held went rolling across the room, spilling a bit as it went, while Gideon's sickle and Therion's dagger both skidded away after the impact.
As the thief moved to collect his dagger, he gave a low whistle, glancing back at Cyrus with an arched eyebrow. "Damn, Professor…didn't think you had it in you to be that cold-hearted…no pun intended, obviously."
Cyrus finally released the breath he had been holding, shuddering slightly. "I don't know if I would say that…" he said softly. "I must admit that I'm rather shaken…but I could see no better course of action. There is not much of a guardsman presence in this town, so we could not have called in any authorities…not to mention if we had tarried, he could have escaped, never to be seen again. Ending him here and now…this was for the good of the people of Quarrycrest. It had to be done."
"Mhm…I'm not disagreeing with you." Therion shrugged. "I'm just saying…I could've done it for you if you'd asked. I don't particularly like killing, sure, but I've had to cut a few throats in my time. Something tells me this is the first human life you've ever taken."
Cyrus smiled weakly. "Is it that obvious? But…no, I could not ask you to do something like that for me. I set out on this journey knowing that the subject I'm researching is a dark one, and it is up to me alone to face the consequences of pursuing this tome. Besides, as I mentioned before…I do not believe that man could have been fully counted as human, given the horrors he was inflicting upon others."
Therion glanced over at the dead man who had fallen from the wooden board, then grimaced. "Fair enough point…that said, though, let's check that cell again. That girl was still alive, so some of the others might be too."
"Agreed," Cyrus replied with a nod.
Abandoning Gideon's shattered corpse, the scholar and the thief hurried back to the opened cell, wasting no time with stepping inside and examining each of the huddled forms across the floor. As it turned out, all of the townspeople inside the cell did indeed still draw breath, though many had evidently been severely weakened by regular drainings of their blood. When the two travelers went about rousing and helping the victims out of the cell, only a couple of the villagers could even manage to stand on their own, while the others required assistance as they staggered and stumbled out into the main part of the room.
"Thank the gods…" Cyrus murmured as he watched the townsfolk blearily awaken and slowly regain the strength to help one another rise to their feet. "They're still alive after all."
"Looks like it," Therion agreed, coming to stand at the scholar's side. He then glanced back at the one truly dead man they had first encountered, frowning. "Well…for the most part, anyway."
"As callous as it may sound," Cyrus sighed, "one casualty is preferable to many. The loss of one man may be devastating, and I pray that his family and friends will eventually find peace, but even still…I am glad we were able to save at least a few people."
"Hm…I guess you're right," the thief conceded. Then, he shrugged. "Well, now that that's over with…time to loot the blood-sucker's body, I suppose."
Cyrus' expression dulled as Therion walked off to search Gideon's cloak, which had not been frozen along with his actual body. "Very charming, Therion," he said dryly, refocusing his attention on the freed prisoners. The few who retained the most strength were propping up the weakest of their numbers, preparing to bear them out of the sewers and back out into the light. A few of them locked eyes with Cyrus, nodded gratefully, then began making their way for the doorway, eventually leaving the two traveling companions mostly alone in the shadowed room. One woman still lay on the floor, unconscious, as none of the villagers had possessed strength enough to fully carry her out. Knowing that there was still a good chance that she would recover, Cyrus resolved to carry her back to the surface himself once Therion had finished with his task.
"Uh…hey, Professor?" Therion called over his shoulder from where he crouched on the stone floor. "I found something that I think you're going to want to see."
His eyebrows lifting, Cyrus joined Therion, kneeling down beside him to examine Gideon's fallen cloak. Out of a hidden pocket on the inside, it would seem, the thief had produced a small book with black binding and golden thread stitched into the front to spell out the title.
Cyrus' eyes widened. "What's this?" he breathed, taking the tome from Therion and gazing at it in wonder. "It couldn't be…a copy of From the Far Reaches of Hell!?"
"Looks like this little detour was a lot more closely tied to your research than we thought," Therion said grimly. "It would certainly explain all of the creepy dark magic, anyway."
"Indeed…" the scholar murmured, leafing through the pages of the small book. As he skimmed a few passages, his frown deepened increasingly, until finally, he closed the tome and sighed. "Well, that's unfortunate."
"Oh? What is?"
"It's but an abridged copy, translated into the modern tongue," Cyrus explained. "And aside from basic instructions on performing the rites and the reagents required…all other details have been all but omitted." He turned the page again, then shook his head in disbelief. "Why, it doesn't even mention the possible uses of these blood crystals."
Therion's eyebrows lifted. "...seriously? So this guy might not have even had a real reason for doing all of this?"
"We cannot know for sure…perhaps this Gideon fellow knew something that we don't." Cyrus continued flipping through the book until suddenly, he found something that did not quite belong. "What's this…? A piece of parchment has been inserted between the pages…"
The thief shifted, looking over the scholar's shoulder as he unfolded the parchment and skimmed its contents. "Huh…looks like you might be right about him knowing more than we can find in the book itself."
Cyrus nodded. "Mhm…these are calculations on the number of test subjects required to create one blood crystal. I see…and there's a note. 'First specimen successfully synthesized and delivered.'"
"That's ominous," Therion commented, frowning.
"'Delivered…?'" Cyrus repeated, his own expression turning grim. "Could it be that someone commissioned that frightful stone?" He looked back at the center of the circle drawn on the floor, where several large blood crystals still lay, then returned his gaze back to the abridged copy of the tome. "I can only speculate, but could whoever is behind this be connected to the stolen tome I seek…?"
Therion sighed. "If that's the case, then you sure know how to pick your research projects, Professor…when you said you were looking for a book, I didn't expect things to get this serious this fast."
"Neither did I, I'll admit," Cyrus said, wearily rubbing a hand over his face. "I knew the subject matter of the tome was dark, and I knew that whoever had stolen it from the library back in Atlasdam might have nefarious purposes for it, but…kidnapping innocent people? Draining them of their blood? Using said blood to recreate these odd crystals for an unknown client to use for unknown purposes? I'm afraid I may have stumbled across a plot that runs far deeper and darker than I ever could have imagined…and given all that we have learned today, it seems that it may just be too late to back away from it all now."
"You're probably right," Therion admitted. "I'd imagine that killing that blood-sucker was enough to get us both on someone's bad side. Granted, they might not know who we are yet, but if word gets out that you've been looking for the same book that this creep was using, it won't exactly take much effort to put those puzzle pieces together."
"Excellent point…" Cyrus frowned. "Well, regardless, we need to return to the surface at once, so that we might fill Odette and the rest of our companions in on what we've learned here. There is also one last young lady here who may need our assistance with leaving…"
As if on cue, the woman in question let out a soft groan behind them. When they turned to look, she was unsteadily pushing herself into a sitting position, looking around and blinking dazedly. "Where…where am I…?" she murmured, her brow furrowed in confusion.
"Ah!" Cyrus exclaimed, heading towards her. "You're back with us, good miss!"
At the sudden sound of his voice, the woman jolted, staggering to her feet only to fall back over into a sitting position a moment later. Her expression was an odd mixture of drowsy and terrified as she stammered, "I…I'm feeling…" She brought a hand to her forehead, swaying as though she would pass out again at any moment.
Cyrus quickly darted over and knelt beside the woman, checking her over for any sign of serious injury. Finding none, and noting that she did not seem quite so pale and gaunt as many of the others had, he figured that she must have been more recently taken, and was currently only feeling the effects of whatever drugs had been used to knock her out rather than those of drained blood.
"The drugs that awful man gave you are still affecting you," the scholar said gently, placing a hand on her shoulder so that she would not entirely collapse. "Pray rest until your strength returns."
The woman stared back at him with clouded eyes, her jaw working as she struggled to comprehend what was happening. "Who…who are you…?" she whispered faintly.
Cyrus smiled slightly. "An excellent question, my dear. And one I'd be more than happy to answer."
"Oh, here we go," Therion mumbled somewhere behind him. "Always with the unnecessary charm…"
The professor, for his part, promptly ignored the sarcastic thief. Instead, he set about introducing the two of them to the poor, confused woman, and gingerly explaining to her the events that had just transpired. All the while, Cyrus knew that the troubles they had stumbled across in this awful place were still far from over, and that there would surely be even darker plots to unravel in the future, but for the time being, he kept his voice light and his smile kind.
The young woman had been through far too much already in this place of blood and shadow. The least Cyrus could do was to offer her some well-deserved clarity and a friendly presence to ease her suffering.
See you guys next time for Tale 18: Rainbow!