Aran stood shocked, hesitating for only a moment before rushing to Naya’s side. He rolled her onto her side; you’re supposed to do that for seizures, right? Her breathing was rapid and shallow, and while her eyes were closed, he could see they were moving rapidly. His eyes darted back and forth, totally at a loss at what to do. He felt her forehead, no signs of fever.

What do I do? Theres nobody-

The sound of foliage shredding beneath heavy steps jerked his head up and to the left, just in time to see the heaving bulk of Bu’umo charging out of the trees, skidding to a stop before Naya’s unmoving body. The beasts fangs were bared, but not directed at Aran. He leaned down over Naya, sniffing deeply. Aran started to speak, “I- I don’t know…” but was silenced with a huffed growl from the… Aran realized he didn’t actually know what Bu’umo’s species was called. He just thought of him as a sort of bear-chameleon. He shook his head. Focus! Bu’umo’s eyes had narrowed, as he pushed Naya onto her back and sniffed at her shirt.

It was… smoking?

Bu’umo started tugging at the leather shirt, reaching over a serrated claw, before Aran stepped in quickly. “Wait, wait. Let me.” Leaning over Naya’s prone form, he pulled the sleeve down, exposing more of her chest. The smell of burning hair wafted out from the opening, until scorched fur was exposed.

A black handprint was forming on her chest.

Fuck.

That was all he could think for a moment. This was obviously her work. Bu’umo just growled, more aggressively now, as he leaned down to lick at it, flinching back as soon as his long tongue grazed it. Shaking his massive head like he’d been stung, for the first time Bu’umo looked worried, instead of angry. They shared a look, Aran at a loss.

The moment stretched out, the only sounds Bu’umo’s heavy breathing mixing potently with Aran’s heartbeat reverberating in his ears.

The solution was obvious, but daunting. And he didn’t really understand how or even if it would work. Their connection was fresh in his mind, and the source of… whatever this was. So he could fix it.

He hoped. Maybe.

Aran let out a long breath, looking over at Bu’umo. “I’ve got an idea, I don’t know how long it will take, or if it will even work. Just… keep watch, okay?” Intelligence gleamed in the beast's large reptilian eyes as he snorted in apparent assent.

Taking a breath to steel his resolve, Aran placed his hand on the print forming on Naya’s chest, burnt fur crackling. He closed his eyes, and sought their bond. It was a connection, like any of the others within his body, but deeper, recessed almost to his core. The thread was gossamer, and felt brittle, like it had been burned. In his minds eye, he flowed along the connection, reaching farther and farther until his core was so distant he could barely see in the darkness. He reached what he could tell was the edge, the boundary between them.

With a concentrated burst of will, he pushed.

Suddenly it was like he was in free fall, slipping faster and faster upon the thread, with only it to guide him. Light blossomed before him, though it was dimmed somehow. Like the light of the sun through cloudy skies. The thread was even more brittle here, and he could feel it weakening. He pushed downward, falling into what he assumed was Naya’s core. It was cold, and that dimmed light suffused everything. Strange shapes spun and shifted in a fog that suffused his surroundings.

Shifting his vision downward, he felt the end of the connection nearing. With a sudden jerk, he impacted… something. It was like the fog had condensed, forming a shell around the center. Inky black tendrils were spreading across it, originating at their connection. Aran grimaced. This was his fault, without a doubt. Guilt swelled, and his focus wavered before snapping back.

He reached out, grasping the root of the connection, and the base of the tendrils, and pulled. It didn’t budge, it might as well have been a mountain. Narrowing his focus, he reached back along the connection, drawing on his well of mana. Pain spiked behind his eyes, and the mana was just a trickle, but he continued to draw on it, until the thinnest tendril snaked across the connection, winding around the blackened infection.

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He stopped, waiting for something to happen. His mana, normally so potent and caustic, just sort of… sat there. He glared, and willed his mana to eat into the foreign connection, pushing more and more into a growing series of winding green tendrils, until he could feel it begin to work.

Sitting above Naya, a small smile turned up his lips.

He pushed, and he could feel the infection begin to recede from Naya’s core, and his progress slowed, as it pushed back against his will. He pulled more and more from his core, tearing down the foreign mana surrounding it, throwing more mana to brute force the infection out.

And it actually worked for a moment. The black tendrils receded further and further, withering under his will. Then he felt another presence, and the infection seemed to stop, before exploding outward, and he felt his consciousness siphoning away, stretching his mind like he was being pulled through a sieve.

------

He stood again in the darkened hall. Wind howled outside, echoing across the polished stone. Night sat upon her throne of black, glaring at him. No longer lounging, she sat straight, looking down her picturesque nose. But her gaze did not hold his attention. At the foot of the raised dais, bound in chains, kneeled Naya. Her head hung limply, and her normally pristine white fur was disheveled and matted.

He took a single step toward her, before a wave of force blew him backward, tumbling across the hard floor.

“What do you think you’re doing?” The words carried across the hall, though they were barely a whisper, dripping with venom. She didn’t wait for him to reply. “You dare to form a pact other than my own?”

Aran grunted as he climbed to his feet, and found the distance between them had shrunk, he was now only a few feet from the base of the dais.

“It wasn’t exactly intentional,” he grumbled, adding “Though I don’t know why you give a damn. And I don’t really care. Release her.” He finished with a growl, with gumption that surprised him. His eyes flicked back to Naya, who hadn’t reacted to any of this. He wasn’t sure if she was unconscious, or simply unable to react, but it steeled his resolve.

Please be alright.

Night’s eyes widened before narrowing in fury, her porcelain skin pulling taught across too-sharp cheek bones. Her finger twitched, and Aran was sent flying sideways, slamming into the stone wall.

“Insolence.”

He struggled to stand, a bit dazed from the blow.

“Will.”

He slammed into the other wall, hard enough for the stone to crack, and it felt like a few ribs might have too.

“Not.”

Each word was punctuated by another wave of force slamming him into the walls or ground.

“Be.”

“Tolerated.”

Aran’s vision swam, and the hall seemed to flicker. His everything hurt, especially his arm where the exposed bone had dragged across the stone. He felt at his side, expecting to find broken ribs, but found himself whole. He’d been an idiot. This wasn’t real. He wasn’t physically here. He wasn’t sure if she was projecting this into his mind, or if she’d pulled his mind here, but that meant this wasn’t his real body.

Looking down at his stump, he focused. He didn’t have to be at a disadvantage here. Like a mirage above a hot desert road, his hand shimmered into existence. He flexed it, knowing it wasn’t real, but it would do for now. He stood, glaring back at the wretched thing upon its throne. Her eyes narrowed back at him.

Another wave of force slammed down on his shoulders, but he simply ignored it, as it passed straight through him.

“No.” He stepped forward, each footfall deliberate. “I’m not playing this game. Release her to me.”

She sneered. “You think to defy me? You forget, my touch in her originates in you.” Searing pain lanced through his chest, as the blackened handprint flared to life on his chest, the white cloth shirt rotting away around it as he gasped, falling to one knee. He focused, clenching his teeth through the pain. I can do this. It's just another connection. So cut it.

He immersed himself in the pain, even as he felt himself cry out. He sought the origin, the focal point from which it spread, and now that he knew to look, it was easy. It was beyond and behind his core, but three dimensions couldn’t quite describe it. It was anchored in him with heavy black hooks of what he could feel was her will. He pulled at them, but it only increased the pain as it tore at his core. He released them, as a pulse ran down the connection and a fresh wave of pain coursed through him.

The connection was thick, and he could feel barbs within it, likely left there to make what he was about to try impossible. But he was used to pain.

Thick lashes of mana surged from his core, wrapping around the connection. The barbs sliced into his mana, attempting to sever it. His mana simply ate into the barbs, absorbing the power. He pulled from every connection, veridian light surging along its length as a crack formed.

Night shot to her feet. “No!”

Aran panted, still with one knee on the ground. “Yes.”

With a surge of will, he tore the connection asunder. Green light surged around him as the connection snapped back with the sound of distant thunder. He stood, weary, but with a grim smile.

“I said, release her.” Reaching out a hand, he found the connection between Naya and himself, and without Night's link through him, shattered her control. The chains cracked, falling to the ground, and Naya’s form flickered before fading entirely.

Aran turned his attention back to the monster standing above him. The light in the room dimmed, as she seemed to grow taller with each step she took down the dais steps. When she stood before him, he had to crane his neck back to see her at all, the shadows growing until she was a blot of deeper blackness amongst the gloom.

“You think you have accomplished something here. You think you have escaped me? I will destroy you for this.”

Aran smiled up at her, though his form trembled from the overwhelming pressure. “You can try.”

“Begone, little mortal. Enjoy your little victory, it will not last.”

With that, the world shattered, and Aran reeled back into his body, rocking back with a sucking of breath.

Looking down, amber eyes stared back at him.