He startled as the voice of his wife emanated from the beast he kneeled by. His head whipped around to look directly at the thing’s head to discover that the creature had undergone some kind of metamorphosis. What he stared at now was no stranger clad in armor found on a battlefield thousands of leagues from his home, but the familiar face of his wife. He pulled back, fully prepared to fight for his life and mind’s sanctity.
Her sweetly flowing voice stopped his thoughts in their place. “Hello, Ranald. I’ve missed you.”
Slowly, hesitantly, he reached out to her head running his hand through her hair, then cupping her cheek with his hand. She smiled and held it there, suspended on the warm soft surface.
He released his grasp after a time and looked into her eyes. They felt wrong. Everything about her felt wrong. From the slightest crevices of her face to the largest features, it all contained a profound and undeniable terribleness to it. The figure in front of him was a mockery of human form, its face shifting from perfectly symmetrical to distorted and displaced to a vague collection of geometric shapes.
Still, he could only see his lover come back to him in his most desperate time of need. Cupping her head in his hands he spoke with gentle conviction. Her arms clutched at his own with sharpened claws of steel. “I…” It felt wrong. Everything felt wrong. “I’ve missed you too, love.” His eyes grew blurry. “How long has It been now? I think I’ve forgotten.”
She smiled, the sheer radiance of it banishing any thought of caution he held inside of himself into the dark recesses of his consciousness. “Too long for you to be standing there like a bastard child.” She opened her arms. “Come here already.”
His lip trembled and he attempted to surround her with his arms. They didn’t reach all the way around her chest and met with a hard rough surface, but he pushed the sensation to the side. Her own arms settled on his shoulders, drawing his head closer to her bosom. His helmet met with the dress on her chest and clinked. His lip trembled hard, something wet and warm trickling over it. He couldn’t bring himself to extract himself from her arms.
The trickle increased in volume growing to cover his nose and mouth entirely. A mass forced its way inside of his body forcing the pathways open and pulling itself along his flesh. He felt the sharp barbs periodically stabbing into him as it encroached further and finally snapped out of his delusions, but found his body would not listen to his commands. He stared at the eyes of the being in front of him.
The beast stared back at him, dread laden in its fearsome visage. More of the thing pushed itself into his maw from the creature’s own and began to occupy more command in his body. The embrace became an open sharing of the viscous fluid between the armored figures it moved between.
His helmet and the ooze connected sparking a reaction from the protective steel. The helm grew bright, and the oozing liquid stopped its horrible march. The beast, its eyes now shining with bright conscious light, shoved him away. He found himself lying on his back foul fluid falling out of his still pained mouth. Anything that remained was ejected by the choked hacking cough that cleared his airway of gunk.
The lizard man sat against the wall arms clawing at its mouth as a black mass emerged from its throat. The blob attempted to take shelter inside of its host once again but found itself quickly ripped out by a steel gauntleted fist. It stuck tendrils into the lizard man’s flesh, piercing into hide and mouth alike but still found itself without roots. The creature wrenched hard and tore out the formless entity completely. Blood and chunks of flesh trailed behind the anathema substance as it went to its final resting place on the cracked stone floor. It thrashed violently and was met with a massive boot sending it flying some paces away. The mass latched onto the cold stone, pulling itself along the ground towards the darkness of a nearby shadow, but was caught by a cross guard that splattered its remains over the ruins around it. The man stood above it, breath heaving in and out of his lungs and cold sweat soaking into his arming jacket.
A choked cough emerged from the beast and brought the man’s attention back from the splattered remains on the ground. Blood spurted from its wounds. Their eyes met once more, though he could no longer tell what emotions it processed inside of its non-human eyes. He rushed to its side and kneeled by it once again. More of the flask’s contents were poured out into the dying creature’s jaw and more energy flooded in through its mouth. Its tongue, ripped apart by the parasite’s violent exodus, was sealed, the lifeblood retained by thin layers of new scar tissue. Flesh patched itself together so unnaturally fast that the process was both an audible and visible affair. It stared at him impassively. He averted his gaze and collapsed to the ground in front of it, hunched over and barely keeping his body upright.
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The creature stared at the sky and wondered at the sights before it, able to focus on its surroundings rather than the death that had sat so close to it just moments before. It reached out to one broken spot in reality, far, far above them and closed its mailed fist. He scooted to sit beside it and joined in its gazing at the ruined sky, sharing in their temporary comradery.
When he had recovered enough the man spoke as best as his exhaustion would allow him. “Can you understand me?” The lizard man made a movement with its head and continued to gaze with unfocused eyes at the shattered heavens above. He continued. “Alright. My name is Ranald. Remember that. You want to fall asleep. Do not. I will leave you behind if you do, understand?” It nodded again. He sighed and let his head fall back against the wall that supported him.
Ranald trembled. Though he still breathed the terror did not fade from his aching mind. He clenched and unclenched his hands but still felt nothing beside horrible energy coursing through his limbs. The thing he’d ripped out had been looking for a new host; perhaps the cleansing fluid from his bottle was what drove it out. Perhaps the parasite simply wanted another host. He did not care enough to find out, nor did he have time to consider. His eyes closed and his head sagged to one side. The simple act of being conscious was beginning to take its toll on him. He fought against the coming unconsciousness, but couldn’t resist its pull.
He woke up. Too much time passed. It’d been much longer than he anticipated and the beast still sat panting, eyes shut. Ranald gazed at the thing with pity. The lands that must have been so strange to the beast had not treated it well; its story might very well be lost to time with no one to tell of its name or actions. To leave it would be a tragedy, but very much so a necessity. One injured man attempting to save another would only lead to both being lost.
He looked back at the creature and put on his helm then picked up the one it previously wore, hooking it into his belt, then walked forward and shook it awake. It looked around before slowly focusing on his face. Ranald spoke. “We’re leaving now. Crawl if you have to. I cannot carry you. Understand?” It made the same head movement and attempted to stand. Its legs shook with the effort, carrying it to one knee, but failed to hold it steady. It crashed back to the ground. Ranald waited patiently by its side, encouraging it where he could, but refusing to offer his hand to help it.
His walk was not fast, both in consideration of his heavily injured companion and himself. If he were to fight, and he predicted he would, he needed to save energy. The sun rose slightly in the sky and cast further mutated shadows down through the clouds, deepening the miasma surrounding the desolate fortress.
They passed the keep as they walked. It’d never been a particularly large structure but the magic warding surrounding it and the exotic stone should have made it nigh invulnerable, if not an incredible work of art in its own right. Another step. The keep crept into view.
Ranald caught sight of the building’s front and stood stock-still. His body began to shake uncontrollably as he fully processed his situation. The lizard man lay on its stomach behind him, catching its breath in the short break it got, and looked curiously at its standing companion while he stared. Ranald eventually tore his gaze away from the sight, clutching his sword to his chest. The tears slipped down from his eyes despite his desperate attempts to keep them from falling. He stumbled forwards on the long, worn path to the fortress’s gate. The lizard man, understanding something was wrong, averted his gaze from the keep and kept it firmly on its companion. It’d not seen what Ranald did, nor did it care to.
Man and beast trod along for a time, moving forwards in trudging footfalls they both struggled to keep repeating. “My Lord was here, you know.” The lizard man looked up from the ground at Ranald’s back. “It was good for a time. The ‘wars’ were just glorified skirmishes the king and his retinue decided they should record. News for the populus, you understand.” He chuckled lightly, the waver quiver never leaving his voice. “Perhaps we were too complacent.”
He stopped by a well and sat, resting his back against the cool stone. The lizard man stopped moving and stared at him, perplexed as to why it was being told what it was. Ranald stared into the sky. “My Lord was a man of ambition. He moved his family here, his lineage, risked everything to set up a castle and a village outside of the border. He planned to make his family rich with the unclaimed potential of this land. Never did he abandon his men to mediocracy. Never did he leave us in the dirt. Whatever he wrenched by force from this wretched place“-Ranald gestured to the surrounding area with shaking hands-, “he would share with us. All of us. The lowest peasant to the highest knight, we all had our piece of the hoard.” His lip trembled beneath his helmet and his voice grew soft. “I planned to take the wealth I gained and settle down here. I was going to cure my wife’s illness and settle down here, father a generation of my own. I think-“ Ranald’s composure broke and tears flowed freely, his shoulders shaking visibly even underneath his armor. He couldn’t bring himself to talk for some long, horrible moments. The despair flooding into his mind made it impossible to think of anything other than his own agony. The dryness of his throat, the exhaustion in his body, the horrible ache in every single part of his being and the agony of realization. “I think I’ve lost everything.”
Ranald wept silently. He covered the back of his helmeted head with his hands, attempting to shelter from the onslaught of emotions. The lizard man stared, face still unreadable. He curled up tighter. The feeling of isolation joined the parade rampaging inside of his skull.