"It's happening again!" shouted Becca—one of the older girls in the orphanage—needing to raise her voice to ensure the others heard her. "Someone fetch Miss Tracy!"
Milly, a young girl of eight, went running from the room, still in her pyjamas. She'd been sound asleep seconds earlier, but there were few things like agonised screaming for shifting someone from fast asleep to wide awake in no time at all.
Really, with how small the current population of the orphanage was, there was more than enough space for everyone to have a room of their own, but no-one wanted to leave Erryn to sleep alone. Not when this happened once every few weeks. And so Erryn shared her room with Milly, Lori and Becca.
Becca was thirteen and would soon be leaving the orphanage to start her adult life. She'd arrived at the orphanage about the same time as Erryn, the result of a particularly nasty construction accident and too old for many to consider adoption.
Lori was in between at twelve, the daughter of deceased delvers, and was only still at the orphanage due to her bad habit of telling any prospective parents to prioritise the other children.
Really, Tracy would have preferred Erryn to sleep in with one of the adults, but the children had grown so overprotective of her that taking her away from them wouldn't be fair. Ever since she'd entered the orphanage—a victim of the disaster at the Emerald Caverns—everyone had immediately adopted her as a shared little sister. A number of years after the dungeon changes, babies and toddlers in the orphanage had already been growing thin on the ground, so a baby coming in was a novelty.
It was a pity they hadn't been able to trace the parents. None of the resurrected of the event had claimed to be missing their child, but likewise, there were no known victims that hadn't been resurrected. With the constant stream of visitors to the Emerald Caverns, not to mention the mass of foreign delvers that flooded the site to aid in fighting back the dungeon break, they couldn't guarantee noticing every victim, but the fact that even after all this time no-one had been reported missing was surprising. Besides, it wasn't as if delvers would have brought a day-old baby into the battle. It was as if she'd just sprung up from nowhere.
Becca and Lori desperately tried to comfort the screaming toddler writhing in her bed, but, as usual, it was to no avail. She was completely unresponsive and gave no sign she was even aware of their presence.
Tracy rushed in, scooping up Erryn and rushing her out to Synklisi's hospital. The episode itself might not be treatable, but if left alone, the secondary effects could prove devastating. Screaming until her throat ruptured, with hands clenched tightly enough to drive her nails through her palms. Her spasming muscles tried to drive joints in the wrong directions, or further than they should flex.
Thankfully, all of those injuries were treatable. Even a second rank healer could repair the damage with a single [Heal]. Tracy sat up with her for half an hour, the healer Jared by her side ensuring the injuries didn't build up to a dangerous level, until Erryn started to quieten down. Of course, [Heal] did nothing to dull the memories of pain, nor did it heal the mind. Erryn curled up into a tight ball and whimpered.
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"The poor child," said Tracy, eyes glistening with tears. "I wish we could help her."
"She's definitely improving," pointed out Jared. "You used to be here every week, now it's every three. An episode used to last an hour, now it's down to half that. I know Jason doesn't want to say it out loud, but we're all hopeful that she'll recover with time."
"I know. It's just... it's been three years already. Even if she recovers, how many more years will it take? She shouldn't have to suffer like this."
"I okay," mumbled the aforementioned toddler, still curled up in a fetal position.
"Erryn! You're awake? Oh my goodness, you poor thing," exclaimed Tracy, scooping her up into a hug.
"I okay," she repeated, a little more forcefully while trying to push Tracy's overenthusiastic embrace away.
"After all that, you can't just be okay..."
"I no remember."
Tracy sighed. Not being able to remember an event didn't at all mean it didn't happen. The constant stream of healing might mean she was left with no lingering pain, and the fact she was almost unconscious while in the grip of an attack might reduce the terror, but there was more to it than conscious memory. Tracy knew Erryn would spend the next day or two subdued.
"Let's get you home and back to bed," she said. This was the part for which the children who shared her room would be the most help, and indeed, they fussed over Erryn, tucking her back into bed, much to Erryn's chagrin.
Sure enough, the next day, Erryn lacked much of her usual energy. In the morning, she sat on the sidelines, watching the others playing. Of course, a couple of the other children joined her, ensuring she had company. She put her normal effort into her afternoon lessons—now getting almost one-to-one attention from her [Teacher] given the lack of other children her age—but even there, her distraction was obvious.
As for Erryn herself, she was still too young to fully comprehend her position. She hated waking up in the middle of the night, her throat itchy and the feelings of torturous pain hovering at the edges of her memory, but she knew everyone was trying to help her. Perhaps she was a little jealous of the others, who didn't have to go through what she did, but she'd never resent them for it.
Or rather, she couldn't.
Someone with the ability to observe souls would be able to see that hers was a mess. Unlike others, its shape only vaguely matched her body, failing to completely fill her limbs. While most of it was the usual white or light grey, there were patches of black, each one a cankerous growth with dark threads penetrating deeper into her soul. The normal patterns of colour didn't bubble up to the surface, but were trapped deep within.
And, of course, the entire thing was wrapped and penetrated with chains.
In her previous life, Erryn had made her decisions carefully and logically. From the moment she realised she was responsible for dungeon breaks, she knew she was a danger. Far from being a protector, she was one of the things the world needed protection from. Had someone watched her soul during one of her episodes, they'd have seen the chains of Law struggling to contain her. The fact that she had her attacks every week was only partially because of the additional damage she'd done to herself in the aftermath of the Emerald Caverns. Much of it was because she'd denied herself an outlet. She could never permit herself to harm others, even in an act of madness.
There was also the question that Peter had failed to answer. Living a life under the Law herself, as a human, would surely answer all that she wanted to know.
The reborn Erryn knew none of that, simply wishing that she was able to sleep in peace. Perhaps soon she would. As she unwound the following day, a drop or two of the necrotic black soul mass dripped away, the white gradually growing back in its place. One day, she would be whole once more. Free from her self-inflicted madness and ready to resume her position as the protector of her world.
Humans lived such fleeting existences, after all. How much could go wrong without her in a single lifetime?