Ichor Cell-Chapter 17: The consequences of our actions

“That really
is
a problem.” Alex stood up and started pacing, running a hand through his hair. “On a scale of one to ten, how likely would you say our odds of mounting a rescue are?”
“Zero.” Elara said with certainty, her eyes following his movement. “Even if we were ten times stronger than we are right now, my answer wouldn’t change.”
Alex paused mid-step, raising an eyebrow. “Surely it can’t be that bad?”
“It’s
worse
.” She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “Even ignoring their resources, their money, their mercenary ties—” She counted out her fingers one by one. “—they still have at least one Disaster class mage, with a second one potentially lurking around if rumours are to be believed.”
“Disaster class.” Alex raised a brow. “You’ve mentioned it before, but what does that mean?”
“It’s just a power classification.” Elara waved the question away. “All you need to know is that less than one in a hundred mages can reach that level.”
“Their head, Lucia Miganos—who so kindly wrote you a letter—is a dual mage and enchanter, having achieved Disaster class in both, making her even more formidable. Ignoring her direct combat power, attacking an enchanter on their home turf is nothing short of a creative way to commit suicide.”
Alex’s pacing slowed until he stopped entirely, deep in thought. When he finally spoke, his voice was quieter, more subdued. “Alright, then. Suppose we try something indirect. Not an attack—maybe infiltration?”
Elara sighed, shaking her head. “Infiltrating a normal noble estate is difficult enough. But this one? Every door, hallway, and even window probably has at least three different alarms built around it. If we triggered even one of them…”
“We’re dead,” Alex finished grimly. “Got it.”
She leaned forward again, frustration and sympathy warring in her expression. “Look, Alex, even if by some miracle we got inside, even if we found Grenil…then what? The moment any guard, staff or clan member noticed us, it would be over for all of us.”
“Not even a distraction?” Alex asked stubbornly. “Draw them out, split their attention?”
Elara scoffed. “Distract who, exactly? The head herself? I don’t think you fully appreciate what a Disaster class mage can do. If she gets involved personally, the best we can hope for is a quick death.”
“Then what if we don’t trigger the enchantments?” Alex tried again, grasping at straws. “You’re a mage, right? Can’t you disable them somehow?”
She shook her head sadly. “Sure, given enough time, the right tools, and a few years studying under a master thief. These enchantments were crafted by someone much better than me to guard against other Disaster level threats, and despite my best efforts, I remain far from that level. At best, I might disable one or two before setting something else off.”
Alex ran a hand down his face. “Right, so infiltration is impossible, distraction suicidal, and a frontal attack outright insane.”
“Pretty much,” Elara said quietly. “I don’t want Grenil to suffer either, he seemed like a nice old man, but I’m not willing to charge to my death for nothing.”
Alex went silent again, jaw tense, eyes fixed on a point in the distance. Slowly, reluctantly, reality settled on him like a weight. He exhaled heavily, shoulders slumping slightly in resignation.
“So that’s it? There’s nothing we can do? I’m going to have to watch as the man that took me in gets executed simply for associating with me?” His voice wavered as he dropped his head.
‘Damnit, damnit, damnit!’
He raged in his mind as he clenched his teeth.
‘Why did they go after him? Why was I stupid enough to stay when I knew I was being hunted? Why? Why? WHY?’
His hands tightened into fists until his knuckles popped, guilt and self-blame crushing him.
‘No. It’s not over yet.’
He suddenly raised his head, turning around to stare at Duran with burning eyes.
‘Worst comes to worst, I’ll bring him back. And if he’s missing memories... we’ll figure it out. I’m sure if I develop these powers far enough, I can find a solution. There are literal gods in this world, after all.’
Noticing Alex’s heated gaze, the man shifted uncomfortably in his grave. “Uh, if I may interject.” He began. “From what I understood of your conversation I also think it would be… a miscalculation to try and mount the rescue of this… Grenil.”
Snapping out of it, Alex shook his head ruefully.
‘Even my first minion is trying his best to dissuade me. Do I really seem that foolish to them?’
“Your concern is appreciated, both of you, but you can relax. I don’t intend to throw my life away, especially when there is still hope for things to work out.” He sighed.
Elara frowned. “What hope?”
“Well, he’s sitting right in front of us.” Alex nodded his head in Duran’s direction, turning to address the man. “Speaking of which, you want us to help you out of there or do you wanna stay here?”
Duran glanced down at the grave he sat in, then back up at Alex, considering the question. “I think... I would prefer to get out of here.” He admitted slowly. “If it’s not too much trouble.”
“Thought so.” Alex moved over, reaching down and gripping the man’s arm. He gave a firm tug, and with surprising ease, Duran was pulled up from the dirt. The undead man swayed slightly, still unsteady, but managed to keep his balance.
“Thank you,” Duran said quietly, dusting off his ragged clothing with stiff, careful movements.
Elara watched them silently, a complicated mix of emotions flickering across her face—discomfort, curiosity, lingering frustration. After a moment, she sighed, visibly deciding not to press further. “Alright. Say he’s our ‘hope’. What exactly does that mean?”
Alex hesitated. “Duran proves that death isn’t necessarily… permanent, at least not in the way we think. If rescuing Grenil alive is impossible—and it clearly is—then maybe...”
Elara’s eyes widened slightly as she caught his implication. “Alex, you can’t seriously be thinking-”
“Why not?” Alex interrupted, a hint of defiance entering his voice. “You’re standing next to living proof—figuratively speaking—that I can bring someone back from death. It might not be perfect, but it’s something.”
Duran cleared his throat uncomfortably. “I feel like I should point out that my memory is... questionable at best.”
“Exactly,” Elara said firmly, pointing at Duran. “Look at him. No offense, but I don’t think this is the kind of solution Grenil would appreciate. You’re gambling that you can do better next time, with someone you actually care about. No offense again.”
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
“Some taken.” The man inclined his head.
“I’m not gambling,” Alex said, his voice quieter but firm. “I’m gonna experiment, improve, and then maybe, maybe I can bring Grenil back properly. Memories, personality, everything.”
Elara shook her head slowly, looking more worried than angry now. “That’s a huge ‘maybe’ Alex. And if you fail, then what? You’d just be defiling the man’s body, turning him into... something else.”
“Well it’s not like I have much of a choice, do I?” He exclaimed, sweeping his arms out. “If you have any suggestions, I’m all ears! Even one idea will do! So come on, instead of criticising me, do something useful!”
“I…” The young mage bit her lip.
“That’s what I thought. Now be quiet and let me at least attempt to save him.” Alex turned away.
After a long moment, Elara sighed. “Fine, if you say so. Then what do we do now? We can’t exactly stroll into town with someone who looks freshly dug up from a slaughterhouse dump.”
Duran glanced down at his torn, dirt-covered clothes as well as the sickly pale shade of his skin, and gave a quiet sigh. “The young lady is correct.”
Alex rubbed his temples. “First things first, we’ll find you some proper clothes and somewhere safe to stay. Then we figure out our next move.”
“Find
him
proper clothes?” Elara raised an eyebrow. “I was talking about
you
, Alex. In case you’ve forgotten, you look many times worse than our new friend right now, which is impressive considering he’s literally dead.”
Alex glanced down at himself, suddenly reminded of the dried blood, dirt, and shredded fabric clinging to his body. He grimaced, conceding the point. "Fair enough," he muttered. "Can’t really walk around looking like an escaped horror movie prop."
“What?” Elara frowned.
“I said maybe we should take advantage while we’re here and experiment a bit more?” He said louder. “I would like to see if there’s any sort of pattern to the skills, power or personality of the corpse when it’s revived. Might give us a better shot at successful saving the old man.”
Elara turned around and started walking back towards the city. “If you want to stay here longer, be my guest, but you should first figure out a way to hide or control anyone you bring back. Walking around with a horde of zombies following you is a great way to get the Cerberus Division crawling up your ass, and trust me, you don’t want that.”
Alex hesitated. Turning to look at Duran, he opened his mouth to ask for the man’s opinion, but a sudden wave of dizziness swept over him. The world tilted alarmingly as he stumbled. He tried to catch himself on a nearby grave marker, which promptly exploded in a shower of rotting splinters, sending him sprawling face first into the foul dirt.
“Shit, Alex!” A shout of alarm came from behind as Elara saw him fall.
“Ack!” A mouthful of rancid detritus assaulted his taste buds, the sensation not too dissimilar from the time he broken his jaw. He reeled back in horror and forcefully pushed down the bile that had risen in response to the sensation.
“Are you ok?” The woman reached out a hand to help him, while a concerned Duran looked on in distress. “What happened? One second you were fine and then-”
“Eeuuurghhh!” He interrupted her with violent heaving, his face scrunching up in agony. “Holy—ack—fucking balls! That’s actually the worst—urk—thing I have ever put in my mouth.”
It definitely didn’t help that the dizzy spell still hadn’t ended, the spinning world only adding to his nausea. Spikes of agony dug into his skull like so many starving tree roots, each moment sending fresh waves of pain through his entire being.
With great difficulty, he raised a hand to placate his audience, the movement only adding to his suffering as he felt the world flip on its head. “I’m… fine.” He ground out in despair, each word coming with great difficulty.
‘No but for real, what happened? I felt fine ten seconds ago and now I feel like I got forced to drink a gallon of pure moonshine mixed with absinthe and spiked with glass shards, all on an empty stomach.’
He winced, even the act of thinking was aggravating his condition.
‘God, I want to die. Am I under attack? Should I warn them to watch out…? But the idea of speaking right now genuinely seems less desirable than dying…’
He groaned as a particularly bad wave passed through his body, curling into the foetal position in a futile attempt to escape.
‘Did holding my breath for so long actually screw me over? Maybe I should have tested it before. But this doesn’t feel like a lack of oxygen. It’s like I’ve been poisoned, or at least I imagine that this is what poison feels like.’
‘Wait, actually… Maybe that’s exactly what this is.’
His eyes suddenly widened, only for him to immediately regret it as the moonlight sent more agony directly into his brain.
‘God! That hurt! Anyway, maybe I did get poisoned in a way. I did wonder how I could seemingly generate unlimited energy as long as there was enough blood nearby, without drawbacks. That seemingly breaks quite a few laws Elara’s brought up and at least one law of physics.’
“Hey! Talk to me!” Elara’s voice pierced his thoughts, his appreciation for her concern undermined by the pain her loud exclamation caused him. “Are we under attack?”
With a groan of effort, Alex uncurled himself and flopped onto his back, throwing up an arm to shield his eyes from the light. Squinting through the pain, he managed to make out Elara’s shape as she stood over him, magic thrumming between her fingers. She cautiously swept her head back and forth, analysing their surroundings for whatever it was she believed had taken him down.
“I think… you can… relax.” He gasped, taking a moment to gather himself. “I think… this is a side effect… of my magic. Feels like… I’ve overused it… and am getting hit with backlash.”
“Your magic?” She directed her gaze at him, a frown decorating her features before understanding seemed to sweep it away. “Ah, I guess that makes sense.”
“It… does?” He quirked an eyebrow with difficulty.
“Yep.” The woman nodded emphatically. “It’s a common issue encountered by most newbie mages. I personally went through it a few days into discovering my magic. I’m honestly surprised it took you so long.”
Alex frowned up at her. “And what is this… “common issue” you speak of? Get to the point.”
“Jeez, relax.” She rolled her eyes. “You’re feeling tired right? Some nausea, headache, weakness of limbs?”
Alex nodded.
“That’s just good old fashioned mana sickness.” She happily explained “Every mage gets it at one point or another. Put simply, it’s a side effect of draining too much of your mana. The amount stored inside you is limited, and when that limited pool gets drained below a certain amount, various symptoms set in. Don’t worry, it’ll go away on it’s own after a while, but I wouldn’t recommend doing anything magical in the short term; it’ll aggravate the symptoms and make them last longer.”
‘I see. I guess this is a variation of that. My mana pool is still pretty full, from what I can tell, but I think I did get pretty low by the end of the fight, if my hunger is anything to go by.’
He grunted.
‘Seems it’s either from repeated drainage and refilling, or it’s just a delayed reaction from how low I got during the fight.’
“Well, it’s good to know what the cause is, but that doesn’t get me out of this predicament.” He grumbled, the words now coming with less difficulty as he slowly recovered. “The sun is gonna come up soon, and I don’t think either me or our new friend here want to be outside when that happens.” He nodded at Duran.
The other two turned to glance toward the horizon. While the sun itself hadn't yet broken free from the distant hills, the darkness had already begun to fade. The night’s deep blue was shifting, giving way to shades of orange and pale blue, slowly chased away by the soft glow spreading along the horizon. Above, stars quietly blinked out of existence, one by one, surrendering to the advancing dawn.
The quiet man frowned from where he was standing to the side. “What do you mean by that?” He asked.
“Well…” Alex grimaced at another thing he was going to have to reveal. “My magic comes with a separate side effect of being weak to the sun. Standing in its light for even a second gets me some pretty painful burns, and I’m assuming you inherited that weakness, since your entire existence seems to run on that same magic.”
Elara widened her eyes at that. “So
that’s
why you always ran away to hide at dawn! No wonder you couldn’t do your job.” She suddenly squinted, pointing her finger at him accusingly. “You wouldn’t happen to have known about this weakness when we made our deal, would you?”
“Uh…” Alex broke out into cold sweat, nervously glancing at the ever-increasing glow to the east. “Hey, would you look at that! The sun’s here! We better hurry up and leave! Duran, come pick me up.”
“Ok.” Duran quickly approached and bent down to pick the limp young man off the floor, lifting him in a fireman’s carry.
“Hey! Answer me you godsdamned scammer! You knew, didn’t you? You knew and you still made me train you? You lying, scamming piece of-”
“Okay, okay!” Alex attempted to fend her off from his position, his arms waving drunkenly in the air. “I’m sorry for deceiving you, but I really needed that training. I swear I will make it up to you as soon as I can. In the meantime, we really do need to get going, because in a few more minutes there won’t be an Alex to pay you off. Now, Duran, be a dear and please take us somewhere with cover, preferably a building, and
fast
.”
The man nodded and took off at a jog towards the city with Alex slung over his shoulder, an angry mage following close behind. “We’re not done with this, asshole! You and me are having a nice long chat about this when we’re safe.” She yelled after him.
“Yeah, yeah.” He shouted back. “Whatever you say.”