CHAPTER 37: THE BLOWBACK

I desperately want to travel with the family, at least back to the great hall. I would break down though, I wouldn’t be able to deny Lil, or I’d give up and go with them as they escape. Instead, I sit here in the prison cell, trying to become stoic. I just need a bit of a break. This whole series of events has really messed with my head. I lightly smack my head into the wall, repeatedly, just letting it drop, bonking the wall, over and over. Not enough to bruise, just enough to rattle my brain. Finally, all my thoughts are just focused on the light throbbing of my forehead.

As I calm my breathing, slowing it, I let my eyes drift closed, longer and longer. Every muscle in my body is shaking from overexertion, exhaustion, just the lightest quiver and vibration. My pulse even feels so strong that it knocks me side to side. I leave the room, squeezing out past the boulder, donning all of my equipment, keeping my eyes closed all the while. Just to be sure, I tie a leaf hood around my head and eyes, before pulling the helmet down over my head. I’m not at one hundred percent when blinded, but I’m better off than if I were to see Teuila attacking me again, of all people.

I just keep repeating to myself, “Te isn’t here, Te isn’t here, Te isn’t here.” It’s all I can think to do. I catch some scurrying out of the edges of the senses granted to me by my danger wraps. The beavers have wised up, and are mostly no longer engaging me. I pass several slumped along walls that barely lift their heads as I pass. They slump back down, perhaps playing dead, when they realize it’s me. One beaver takes an aggressive stance as it backs its way into a side room. Too angry at the moment to be entirely merciful, at least, too angry to just leave this one be and walk on by, I enter the room.

It’s a good thing I did, this one has stolen and equipped some of our gear, and the wicker basket that holds the rest is sitting open behind it. I’m a bit irrationally infuriated by this beaver wearing Valkyrie armor. It’s like that action somehow sullies my already shattered memory of Teuila. It is wielding a magical sword, and shield, while I’m using my fists to try to bludgeon it enough into submission, so I’m at a disadvantage. Honestly, other than Gae Buidhe, and that mind blasting, illusionary hallucination-causing thing, whatever it was, other than those two things, this is probably the only serious threat in the entire complex.

This beaver hasn’t been fighting for its life, day in and day out for the last few months though. It hasn’t faced down some god-tier serpent creature with its family. It hasn’t spent hours every day honing every last skill it can with allies who push them to the breaking point, and beyond. Ugh, my train of thought is getting too cocky, that isn’t what I meant to be pontificating at the moment at all.

I receive a sharp gash across my chin for my hubris, one of few unprotected parts on my body. Though the beaver dodges my tendrils a few times, eventually I manage to entrap it with them. I tug, drawing it close so I can bludgeon its face repeatedly in return. As I feel it drop the sword, seemingly in submission, I bend down to claim it to my inventory, when I’m warned just an instant too late that it draws a backup sword. It manages to run me through, through the right side of my abdomen, and I’m more infuriated than anything else. I’m not so much furious that I might die from this. I absolutely might die from this, sure, but I’m furious that this thing would deceitfully attack me like this, and more furious that I would fall for it. Perhaps I’d have noticed the second sword if I weren’t wearing a blindfold. I didn’t do a thorough sensing with my danger wraps. I think I probably screamed in pain, and maybe I’m still screaming.

I almost instinctively toss the beaver away with my tendrils, but with its grip on its sword, that would disembowl me. I don’t need any additional evisceration at the moment, so instead I squeeze it harder, and harder. I feel its grip loosen and slacken on the handle of the sword embedded deep in my torso. I want to keep going, squeeze this jerk til they pop. Then images of Lao looking saddened and frightful enter my mind. Images of Agwai or the twins looking aghast accompany them. I don’t want to become a monster. I drop the beaver in a corner, approach it while I have it cornered, and strip it of the valkyrie gear by claiming the gear to my inventory. It takes almost no energy when the creature can’t resist, especially when it’s gear that I’ve already previously claimed. I still have to be careful with my energy, because the real Teuila is still evolved. I can’t risk dropping the tether if she might be midair, or mid combat at any given point in time. Rather than claiming all the gear from the basket to my inventory, I just claim the whole basket and its contents as well.

I leave the room with a sword sticking through what are probably my stomach, and maybe my kidneys, probably several rows of intestines too. I’m not quite sure on biology normally, and less sure in this land. Imagine me rendezvousing with the family with this sticking out, that would be a bit hard to explain. I’m pretty sure that medically, one shouldn’t remove an object that’s perforating oneself, but does that apply only in my weird memories? Or is that applicable in reality as well? Right now, the wound is caked with blood, but the blood is already coagulating, and I’m not losing too much more. However, with every step, the sword wiggles around my insides, gutting me further.

Alright, let’s try to picture this with some numbers. If I have several thousand steps to take to get out of here, let alone however many leaps and tumbles and dodges I’ll have to do in combat, yeah, there’s no way I’ll live with this thing hollowing out my insides. On the other hand, trying to stay alive with a wound this size, on my frame, hm. I’ll have to risk it. I claim the sword to my inventory, so that I don’t accidentally open the wound further by pulling it out. Feeling the air stinging as it enters the wound, I’m fairly certain that biologically I should instantly drop dead right about now. If nothing else, for no other reason than from shock.

As I woozily stumble onward, I try to convince myself that, like Luni said, I’ve got this. Nope, nope I don’t. I don’t got this. Too many wrecked organs, and too much blood loss already. I may have been screaming in pain this entire time. I can’t hear myself over the ringing in my ears though. At the very least, I need fluid. I think it will have to be a bit thicker than water, at least slightly more viscous. I don’t want to waste the few water walking potions I’ve re-made, but the only other potions I have are mysterious ones from Octorochi. At least two of them are red though. Could they possibly have some sort of blood replenishing magic? One is about the size of the minor water walking potions, the other is in a slightly more ornate, much larger bottle. Do I try the smaller one first, to identify its contents, and hope that the larger one is more of the same? Or do I save the smaller one, in case of a smaller emergency.

Oh wait, are all potions, um, taken orally? Imbibed? Or are some topical? Fricklefrack. Whatever I choose, no turning back. I pull the larger red potion out of my inventory, and start chugging it, in that magical way that consumption works. I’m so glad it does, because I’m pretty sure that my body is ruined right now, and fluid would just go spilling out my wound. At least if consumption worked like my memories say it should.

Suddenly my abdomen is on fire, I’m in complete agony, and I worry I’ve drunk a cursed potion for a moment. I nearly black out from the pain, but I can’t risk sleeping or passing out, I especially can’t risk dying in my sleep before accomplishing my task. I try to calm my breathing, to focus on letting the pain wash through and over me, as I realize what the pain is. It’s the tissue from all of my organs being forcibly knitted back together, without anesthesia. My consciousness starts to fade due to the pain, and I actually vomit from its sheer overwhelming intensity. My side starts to stitch, mostly. It seems like the potion’s effects ran out, or I accidentally vomited some of it up. Ugh, what if it’s a matter of life and death, would you try to, no, just no. I don’t even want to ponder needing to re-consume the potion to finish its work. Though blindfolded, I stand with my gaze tilted towards the spot where I vomited on the ground. I can’t bring myself to even try to convince myself of that course of action though.

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Sighing, I do my best to wrap my side tightly with a bit of leaf leather. As long as I’m not jabbed there, it should probably close up in a few hours. I’m insanely lucky that the injury wasn’t from Gae Buidhe. Even luckier that I happened to have a potion on hand that could mostly take care of it. Or maybe vice versa, lucky that I had a potion, even luckier that it wasn’t from Gae Buidhe. I wonder if I should use the smaller red one as well. No, maybe if I’m battling the leader, and it manages to tear open my side. Having the small potion as a backup still might be my only saving grace. Though, then I’d have to finish the fight with the excruciating agony of my organs being forcibly knit, while still fighting.

“Huff. Huff. I need a flippin’ break.” I say as I slump against the wall, drawing some frog meals and water out to consume. I sit with my butt on my heels, my back against the wall. My head just lolls side to side as it rests against the wall behind me. I occasionally pant with exhaustion, or frustration. Several beaverfolk seem to be skirting the edge of my senses. I think they probably notice my fists or ears twitch when they get in range, so they’ve figured out how far away to stay. How long has it been since I’ve spoken out loud to myself? Te has told me before to get out of my own head, right? Would it be better to speak aloud more often? My muscles lose all tension and fall relaxed, dropping my limbs loosely.

I could go for a nap. I could nap here, right? My danger wraps would probably wake me up if a serious threat were approaching, wouldn’t it? Well, they’re not infallible, even if they warn me, I still need enough time to react to something. I probably wouldn’t have time to react if the wraps were trying to wake me up, and I woke up as groggy as I’m going to be when I finally sleep. After all this is said and done, I feel like I could sleep for a week.

I cough weakly. Then I stand agonizingly slowly. I need to explore the rest of the north section before I get the signal, I have to find the leader. I just hope the leader isn’t that fake Teuila in the room I’ve blocked off. My stomach churns and my heart feels like it drops through my guts into the pit of my stomach as I imagine having to fight, and likely kill, someone wearing the face of my beloved Teuila.

Sadly, as I explore the northern section of this series of tunnels, behind the great hall, I find no other traces of what one might think to be a leader, or boss. I do however scare a bunch of beavers away from the wall I made. They were going at it with mallets and wedges. The wall was about to fall, so I reinforce it a bit with some of the mortar-like mud, and a thin layer of clay. One last hall to check, before coming back to this room.

Nothing of note in the last hallway, at least not in the way I’m searching for. The weirdest thing though, in a room with a long table, there was a horned cervid skull hanging up. I’ve never even seen anything leave a skull behind before. And why would beavers of all people have a deer skull hanging up? Maybe it was a crafting project, and it’s just a wood carving. My danger wraps can’t exactly tell the difference between wood and bone, I think.

I find myself thinking that it’s pretty stuffy, and rather hard to breathe with my guts and lungs all jumbled. The feeling doesn’t last long though, as a gentle breeze caresses me and fills my lungs. I breathe deep and sigh contentedly. That feels nice, it’s almost like this breeze sought me out, just to help me out.

Oh! It probably did! Crap, that’s the signal.

“Sylphie, are you here? Is it go time?” I rush back towards the wall I erected, blocking off the room I really don’t want to return to. I know Sylphie can’t understand me, at least I think they can’t. Then I spy the most curious thing. Writing appears as if being carved by a finger that’s being dragged through the still drying clay that I had just placed a short while ago.

“Been in pyramid for almost twelve hours? Think we know what to do, have to act now, it’s almost noon? WHAT!?” Ugh, I probably did pass out several times after all, and even still, I don’t feel rested, since I’ve been maintaining tethers, fighting, jogging, swimming, and running all over. It seems like Sylphie was able to convey Luni’s words, likely with extreme accuracy, by writing in the mud. Sylphie doesn’t leave however, which is a small comfort. At least someone friendly will be at my side as I face one of my worst possible nightmares.

I claim the wall, and on the other side is Teuila, waiting for me, she shrieks at me with indescribable force. Somehow it feels like this horrid wail is trying to shove my brain rearward out of my skull, or knock me over, flung about by my brain. My headache is so bad that I can feel blood trickling from my nose and ears. Fighting the pain, and to keep Teuila from escaping the room, I leap forward, tackling her, placing the wall again to seal us in together.

Sylphie’s breeze coils about my head, and she appears to be wiping the blood from my nose and ears, mothering me, soothing me. It’s the only thing holding me back from just emptying my entire energy into devastating radiant attacks on this doppelganger, this insidious, horrid creature. I need to remind myself that even if Luni has found out what to do in the pyramid, I don’t know if the right course of action is just killing this creature yet. I circle it, backing into the room it was in so that I can sense around the room. It seems there’s a thronelike seat that faces the door, and some kind of altar off to one side. On the altar is something sharp, like a bone dagger. Next to the bone dagger is a bowl. The contents of the bowl are ugh, soft, juicy, pulsating, wriggling.

The fake Teuila starts shrieking at me again, and it feels like somehow her yelling lifts me off the ground by my brain. Kicking my feet, yes, I’m lifted off the ground. Teuila thrashes, throwing a hand to one side, and I’m flung to my right, clattering into the throne, the corner of an arm jabbing sharply into my wound, opening it again. Hell, I was hoping not to have to use this at all, much less this early. I summon and quaff the smaller potion, and am once again treated to ridiculous levels of agony as tissue begins to knit in rapid fashion without anesthesia.

I start to panic, wondering how the heck I’m supposed to fight something that can fling me around and keep me from getting close to it. Oh wait, duh, what I was going to do earlier. Is it the right thing though? Should I do it now, while it thinks it has me pinned to the throne? As if in answer to my question, the entire world seems to shake. Then a great, greenish hued wave of light seems to pass through the walls in slow motion, so bright that it even illuminates my blindfold, as if some sphere far in the northwest were expanding massively. There’s the sound of derezzing coming from the bowl, and my guess as to its contents sickens me further.

The fake Teuila, perhaps sensing my hesitation, perhaps afraid of the light, leaps at me, her face expanding into a grotesque maw, as the barrier wave of light washes over her, each of us are half in, half out of the barrier. In that instant, I know it’s my one opportunity to end this. The light has to be whatever Luni did, and I have to finish this while she’s caught in it. It doesn’t take much. Several radiant copies of an extremely deadly spear appearing in the path of her lunge is all it takes. I need not even expel them with any velocity as she impales herself.

The world slows to a crawl. I barely even needed to be here. The crashing, crackling, tinkling sound of someone derezzing is barely audible above the ringing in my ears, or the woosh of the breeze that Sylphie brings. I slump to my knees. I just want to cry, and cry, and cry, until someone finds me. I feel like a lasso is cinched tight around my heart, squeezing and yanking, trying to draw it forth from my chest.

I can’t help but sink into despair as one thought slams into my mind on repeat. “I just killed Teuila, I just killed Teuila, I just killed Teuila.” But somehow, even this nightmare isn’t yet finished. The world seems wrong somehow, as if everything is just slightly unstable. Am I not allowed even a moment’s grief? Let my mind shatter into pieces in peace, so that I can put it back together, please!

No such luck, the vibration of the instability of the world grows, and grows. Sighing, I pick up most of the contents from the room as I return towards the wall I’d erected. I approach the wall, and lightly slam my head into it, resting my forehead and hand on it for a moment, sighing. Sylphie seemed to cushion the impact, a gust forming between my cranium and the concrete-like structure.

“Thanks, I guess, Sylphie. Not sure if you can understand me. I’m not sure why you stuck with me, but thank you nonetheless.” I recall the wall to my inventory, and am met with the blowback of a river’s worth of water flooding into the room, crashing against me.