Zion awoke some unknown time later, his body still battered and broken. He still didn't have much feeling in the lower part of his body, but it was starting to come back slowly. Glancing at the barrier upon waking up, the slight movement was agonizing. What he saw made his heart leap with hope—the barrier was gone, and the way out was wide open.
So he began crawling, pulling himself painfully along, one hand at a time. It was absolute misery; each movement sent shockwaves through his body, and each inhale of air felt like someone was stabbing him. But he continued for what had to be an hour, at many points considering giving up. Someone would come get him, right? None of them would assume he died. But he couldn't help but worry about them being injured. What if one of his friends was bleeding out right now, alone and cold?
He finally saw brighter lights around the bend. A few more pulls, and he was staring down another open cavern, this one with a single doorway bright with magelight. It was the way down to the next floor. He pulled faster now, trying to accelerate his pace regardless of the misery it inflicted.
He didn’t have to suffer long, hearing a joyful call from Camila, “Oh Zion, hold on, I’m coming, don’t move!” He happily obliged that request, laying his head down in the hard-packed dirt.
She was soon within his vision, and she looked pretty good in comparison. Her black hair was a mess of tangles, with blood soaking the left side of her head. Lacerations were in the process of healing, marring all her open skin. But overall, she was in one piece, and that made him so happy.
With careful movements, she picked him up between her arms, the motions delicate for someone like Camila. He saw tear streaks down her dirty cheeks, her eyes still glistening from the recently shed tears. “Thank Lanza, you're alright, Zion…. I was starting to assume the worst,” she breathed the words out, visible weight lifting off her shoulders.
“Guess I'm the last to arrive, then,” Zion guessed, his voice quieter than normal. Instead of assurance, he saw Camila's jaw clench, her eyes darting to the right.
“Camila, I am the last one to arrive, right?” he asked again, this time more forceful, the words hurting his throat.
She shook her head dejectedly, “No, I still haven’t seen Beth or Jura, and I've been here at least thirty minutes, if not more.” There was a tightness to her words, the stress returning in a sagging of her shoulders. “I… I can't go look, Zion. What if they're dead?”
Those words hit him like the weight of a boulder. Camila was the most confident of their group, and her words affected him more than they should. But she didn’t need more doubt right now; what she needed was support as her friend. That was his duty.
“Don’t think that way, Camila. Honestly, if any of us were going to die, it'd be me or you,” he told her, false confidence matching his determined stare. “I mean, our combined intelligence maybe reaches one of them, but definitely not both of them together. Most likely, they are just resting before heading out of the room. Or looking for loot.” He put as much conviction as he could into those words.
Camila didn’t comment, her jaw set in a grim line. She helped him get his bedroll laid out, and then he was lightly laid on the mat, his body still protesting any and all movement. He grabbed some water and took careful sips, trying not to aggravate whatever damage was done to his chest. He was unsuccessful.
They stayed that way for another fifteen minutes, waiting, just waiting for something to change, for better or for worse. Even Zion's false confidence was ruined by now. He knew something had happened. What that was, he couldn't say, but that feeling of wrongness wouldn't subside.
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Then she walked out, and in her arms was the battered and broken body of Jura. His heart slammed into his chest, pain soaring through his veins with every beat. But this pain wasn't physical. Pure, agonizing, absolutely gut-wrenching pain poured through his heart and mind as Beth slowly made her way forward. Camila let out an utterly broken gasp before running to her sister.
Beth collapsed into her arms, tears streaming down her face like the never-ending flow of a river. Her eyes were haunted and distant, like some part of her was trying to withdraw into her mind, some part of her searching for refuge.
Zion understood because he, too, was seeking that sanctuary. His eyes burned, burned so fiercely he would have guessed they were on fire. Even with his body being dehydrated, it made room for the tears to flow. Even with his body in disrepair, it made strength for him to sob. Every facet of him was focused on one sole truth: Jura was dead.
The dwarf who had only joined them by happenstance. A mentor who had appeared when they all desperately needed one. His friend who had encouraged him and supported him, though he owed him nothing. He had known the man for such a short amount of time, and yet he felt like he had lost someone he’d known his whole life.
They were closer now, Camila practically dragging Beth and Jura's corpse on her own. Camila was a mess. Her eyes were tight with pain, the kind of pain that one couldn't truly hide. She was doing her best, taking deep breaths, shaking her head, and even biting her lip. Anything to hold the tide while she cared for her sister.
Once they got closer to him, Camila tried to take the body from Beth's grasp gently. “NO! DON'T TOUCH HIM!” the scream coming from her was utterly out of character, full of so much anger. She grasped Jura tighter in her arms, fingers digging into her own skin from the force, leaving furrows of blood flowing slowly down her skin.
Not that you could even notice it much, for all the blood that covered her. Unlike himself, covered in the brown and green innards of spiders, Beth was covered in the rusty red of mortal blood.
“Beth, I promise I'm not going to take him away,” Camila said gently, her voice starting to break. “I'm just going to let him rest on the floor. He'll be more comfortable that way.” Beth started to shake her head vehemently, and Camila grabbed both her shoulders and forced her eyes up. “Beth, I promise.”
That stare must have shared so much hurt, so much devastation. Beth broke out in sobs as she slowly released her grip on Jura. Camila took the man so lightly, like a mother holding her newborn for the first time. She laid him there beside Beth and closed his eyes gently.
Then she hugged Beth so fiercely, with love for her sister, and shared grief pouring off the gesture.
The chamber echoed with the sobs of three broken adventurers, three people who had never lost a party member. It was an experience that any seasoned one would approach with generous care, for it was devastating. Zion had been told about this, of course. Everyone is told about the harsh reality of the path he chose. But hearing something doesn't make it real. Pain like this couldn't be explained or taught; it could only be experienced.
They stayed that way for hours. How many? Zion couldn't even begin to guess. He cried for so long that his tear ducts dried up, no longer having the resources to spare for tears. And then he sobbed until his muscles locked from the abuse.
Beth and Camila were much the same, eventually lying on the ground near Jura, just holding each other. No one spoke during that time, and no one had the ability to. Then another two hours passed, and finally, the sisters got up and came to sit with him. They held hands and took in their fallen comrade. The touch was healing, the support something they all needed.
They wouldn't heal today; no, that would take time. Time that would eventually scar this devastating wound, leaving a reminder of Jura to mark their souls for life. For the rest of the day, they just sat there and talked.
Beth explained what had happened. About how the boss had been way stronger than they expected, a common theme they all shared. Just another thing Jura had been so right about.
She talked about how they had tried to find different ways to win, but nothing had worked. How the boss was getting more powerful with every move it made. Then she mentioned trying to sacrifice herself to finally kill it, but Jura had beaten her to it. How he had appeared to take her place, glowing white like an angel of legend. She told them that he had killed the boss with one strike through its head, giving his life for that one shot.
After that, silence had settled once again on the group. They still held hands and stayed close, the solidarity needed. Eventually, they knew that they needed rest. All three of them were hurt in different ways, and even with fast healing, they would not be better right away.
No one ate, and their bellies did not even grumble for food. They simply laid their beds down near each other and went to sleep, all of them looking at the departed Jura as they did.