Siren’s Cry [A LITRPG Adventure]-Ch. 19
A/N: Alright folks, the internet has spoken! Here within the next day or so, I will be releasing my second story: Imperfect Evolution! The name kinda explains it, but you'll see when it's posted :3
Now, enjoy the trauma.
---
Keria groans, pain filling every inch of her body and cold steel pressing into her wrists. Trying to even think straight is a struggle, and the burlap sack filtering the already dim light does nothing to help the migraine setting in. She wracks her brain for where she is, but it takes a few minutes for the memories to filter back.
Keira had retired to her room at the inn, which Siris had generously offered to rent for her. The strange woman confuses her to no end, but the more pressing concerns came after. She had passed out almost immediately onto the bed, the combination of inebriation and a full stomach doing wonders for her sleep. Then Keira had woken up at some point in the night to something pricking her neck, and a great sense of grogginess that even a hangover didn't explain. Everything was fuzzy after that, but she vaguely remembered someone putting a bag over her head before leaping from the window with her in tow.
The muffled shuffle of feet heralds the sack being ripped off, and Keira hisses in pain when it scrapes her sensitive ears. Blinking in the sudden light, Keria takes in her surroundings. A dimly lit room made of stone, wooden crates stacked off to one side revealing its true purpose as a storage room.
Probably a warehouse near the docks, then.
Unfortunately, she's not alone as three men loom over her. Two stand flanking the door, a dwarf with not a speck of hair and the scaled form of a lizard-like kretch. The third was familiar; a towering orc with a mechanical arm. Brutal steel plating covering chunky gears, clicking loudly with every motion.
“Well well well! Looks like the kitten tried to get some help, after all the hard work we've done keeping your friend alive. Now, you wouldn't try to betray our trust, would you?”
Metal fingers click as the orc crosses his arms, a disgusting smile on his face. Keira tries to use Shadow Step, but all that happens is the cuffs warming slightly. The orc laughs, clapping with sick delight as she struggles to sink into the darkness beneath her.
“We can't have you leave before the party starts! Don't worry, those suppressant chains will keep you here and solid until we're done.”
Various blades of different lengths are placed on a nearby crate, each one more wicked than the last. When the final rusted knife is in place, the orc selects the largest one, reminiscent of a fillet knife.
“Now, hold still. This is going to hurt a
lot
.”
Keira's eyes widen in horror as she thrashes against her bonds, screams filling the abandoned warehouse as the first cut is made.
—
It might be only minutes, or maybe hours? She can't tell. Time lost itself beneath the waves of agony a while ago, each slash of the knife or blow of a steel fist only adding to the numbing pain. Keira's bleary, blood-covered eyes stare up blankly at the orc, now covered in blood and smiling even wider. By now, even the two guards by the door have left, feeling sick at watching what their boss is doing. Never enough to kill Keira, only enough to cause blinding pain. When she fainted from blood loss, a sip from a healing potion brought her back without healing her too much. She'd long since lost her voice from screaming, a soft rasp the only sound showing that she still lived. Cuts and bruises cover her entire body, only the ragged remnants of her clothes preserving her modesty. Another slash, another wheeze from cracked lips. It continues for hours, until a thunderous crash from above the room causes the orc to pause.
“The fuck is happening up there! Fuckers better not be drunk again!”
The only response is a shrill shriek from above, a physical sound that sends the crates trembling and the blades clattering to the ground. Slowly, a dark liquid begins to leak through the ceiling boards. Blood pools and drips, like something from a horror story told around a campfire.
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
The shriek comes again from just outside the door, this time followed by splintering wood as a glowing orange sword appears, flying towards the orc. He brings up his metal hand, batting the blade of mana to the side, but more follow. Dozens upon dozens of glowing swords shred through the sturdy oak door, sending splinters flying and all targeting the orc. He dodges and parries the blades, and after a tense minute of narrowly avoiding death the barrage halts. Through the debris, a seven foot tall woman with drifting silver hair levels a violent violet glare at the orc. The orc laughs, readying his fists for a fight, but the woman simply sniffs with disdain and snaps her fingers.
Behind the orc, the three dozen blades of magic that had gathered together as they passed him all launch into his back in sync. His eyes go wide as he coughs out a glob of blood, slowly tipping forward as the majority vanish shortly after. The three that remain tear themselves free of the corpse with a sickening squishing noise, flinging the blood off in a spray of crimson droplets.
The blades approach Keira, and for one horrifying moment she thinks that Siris is about to resume the torture, but instead the blades combine and split the shackles apart. The faint spark of failing enchantments is the only sound for a long while, as Siris makes her drink healing potion after potion. Wounds close, warmth flooding Keira as Siris worries over her like a mother and her child. Keira manages to force out a single word from her parched throat.
“Why?”
Siris actually thinks for a moment before responding, showing that it isn't just an empty platitude.
“I may have only known you for a day, but that hope you have when you talk about saving your friend is too pure to leave you to
heathens
like these morons. Besides,” She says with a lopsided grin, baring sharp fangs that somehow only comfort Keira. “What kind of benefactor would I be if I just left you?”
Keira can't help the shaky smile that rises, tears gathering before collapsing into tortured sobs. Siris pulls her close, wrapping soft wings around the weeping beastkin and holding her tight. Keira returns the hug, pressing her face into her neck as all the pain, anger, and sadness is released all at once. They sit there for a while, neither saying a word as Keira slowly runs out of tears to cry. Wiping her eyes, Keira gives Siris another smile, more genuine this time.
“I… I think I'm alright now. Could you… could you try to help Mai, if we can find her?”
Siris hesitates for only a moment before nodding, helping up the still-weak feline and guiding her down the hallway. There's only two other doors, one of which leads upstairs and the other is a heavy oak construction which is locked behind a thick steel bar. A quick heave sends it clattering to the stone bricks, and another opens the door to a wave of gut-wrenching stench.
---
Inside the pitch black room is a single stained cot against one wall, a dessicated form resting amid a literal puddle of filth. If I couldn't make out the ever so faint rise and fall of their chest, I would have thought they were a corpse. Hanging from a rusty wire beside them, is what I can only compare to a medieval I.V drip. A rusty metal cup connected to a thin tube leading to a needle stabbed into the inner elbow of the poor soul.
My tome snaps into being before me, and several shots of Purify are used to evaporate the sewage soup into clean water. Still wouldn't drink it. Grabbing a couple health potions I stole from the other thugs, I feed the skeletal figure all three of them. The improvement is instant; going from sunken, pale skin stretched tight over their bones and only barely alive through means that are a mystery to me, to a fairly normal looking elven woman. Still pale and thin, but no longer appearing like a lich. It's only now that I realize Keira has been silently crying this entire time, so I pull her close with a wing while I try to figure out what illness Mai has.
Being unfamiliar with this world's sicknesses, it takes a long time of trial and error before I figure out a trick. Threading a tiny stream of mana through my eyes and then down and out of my hands into Mai, a system chime tells me the issue.
-==×==-
Skill Learned:
Basic Diagnosis: Allows the user to view basic status effects and other issues within another's body.
—
Diagnosis (Mai Crestwind): Potion Burnout, Malleaf Toxin, Malnutrition
-==×==-
And of course, now that I can see what the issue is, I can use my blessing to figure out a solution.
-==×==-
Malleaf Toxin: A rare variant of dripweed, this crudely made poison draws on its imbiber’s own mana and blood to progressively grow in strength. While a healing potion may slow or stall the spread, a specialized antidote is required to purge it from the body.
-==×==-
Wait, I've seen this before. Where have I seen this poison before? … AHA!
Pulling my conjuration and runes primer out, I quickly flipped through until I found exactly what I remembered: the entry on something called a ‘toxin wraith’. Rushing so as to not waste time, I read the passage quickly.
.
!
Ch. 19
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