The corpse of the beast lost strength and fell to the ground, black blood pooling on the floor around it. Beads of red dripped down from Silas’ hand, several fingers needing to be pushed back into place with a stifling crack. Silas’ eyes looked empty. Exhausted. That last slash took away the majority of his blood energy, the rest having been used just to keep him moving with his broken ribs.
Without the blood energy keeping them in place, every breath was a pain. While it did its job reminding him he was alive, it also made him wish he wasn’t. Silas crouched down and took a normal knife from his belt, his hand in sheer agony as he gripped the handle tight. He dug into the beast’s body from one of the wounds left by the Voiceless for several moments.
When he pulled his hand out, it was coated in the creature’s blood and stung his skin. The pain as it made contact with the wounds on his hand felt like literal salt in the wound and turned the veins black around it. Even so, Silas found the Bloodstone from it’s corpse and held it in hand
It felt like a sun in his palm. Warm to the touch, the amount of energy it contained was immense, let alone the amount of Corruption. Equivalent to a Ninth Gate, this would be helpful even to Amus. Valuable.
Silas however needed it just to stay alive. Blood energy of this quality and this quantity would do much better healing his wounds or at least sustaining his life until he could heal naturally. The embers of his blood energy quickly got to work drawing the energy from the stone and his fear energy worked on discarding the impurities.
As the newfound energy coursed through his veins it felt like magma. Silas grit his teeth, desperately forcing it under control until it would be sent to one of his Three Gates, then from there the energy spread out and diluted within his body. Thirty percent went to his hand, another thirty went to his torso and the other forty diffused amongst the rest of him, easing his weary body.
His will was basically all that was still keeping him together. Silas felt the urge to just lay down and sleep. Let his body heal itself and not worry about a thing. His internal injuries were so terrible, the average person would likely have bled to death.
The colour slowly drained from his face even as he healed. Weakly pulling out some rations, he stuffed them down his throat with barely a chew before steadily standing up. Silas refused to let go of the Bloodstone as he grabbed his saber and walked out of the building with heavy steps across the street towards the Apothecary.
Roars and screams still echoed from down the street but he estimated with their speed he’d still have a few more minutes until they arrived. The issue was the smell of blood.
Silas adjusted his glasses, taking note of how they somehow were still intact and stepped inside the Apothecary.
Unlike the previous one, this Apothecary was thick with the smell of herbs and a sickly sweet stench. The storefront was seemingly broken into two segments, one having a circular pile of bones and human clothing while the other was debris and remnants of what furniture should be left. He grabbed a random roll of bandages from in between the destroyed counters.
Shattered, the door to the back was entirely gone and led to a storeroom in complete disarray. Bags of herbs were tossed all over the floor, poultices, bottles and medicines seemingly destroyed. Remnants of what looked like lockboxes smashed to pieces with their contents missing.
Silas crouched down, his eyes murky as he searched for what had the strongest smell in his mind. It was a poultice, long knocked from its rightful place on the shelf and making it hard to figure out what it was. He lathered it all over his neck, hands and wrists before applying it to the bruises on his torso. Then he tightly bandaged himself, mostly focusing on his hand.
His blood energy immediately began to speed up its circulation as he did so, a foreign element speeding it along in its efforts to heal him. Simultaneously, the lava-like energy from the bloodstone grew faster, a vein bulging on his neck as he resisted the urge to scream. The smell covered the scent of blood.
Then Silas gathered what herbs he could off the list, a rather difficult endeavour considering the state of things and then left the Apothecary. With how close the roars were now, he probably only had a minute or so left before they reached him.
Silas’ legs were left untouched if not entirely uninjured but with the state of his insides, he knew he couldn’t run long. He’d have to run far. Diverting a portion of the bloodstone’s energy to his legs, the feeling of fire spread throughout his lower body like worms eating into his bones. Every wave of pain fought against the feeling of sleep.
One quick movement, Silas rapidly brought his right, mangled hand up, gripped his shoulder tight and pushed it back into place. His tooth cracked as he bit down hard, the scream dying out in his throat. Gripping the bloodstone so tight it dug into the flesh of his palm, he started sprinting.
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The mutants mainly patrolled the areas that led to either the Lower or Upper City, few moving around in the middle of the Market District. His route also took him to the middle next, right by the Airship Ports. Coincidentally, the least roars came from this direction too.
He could either escape back to the compound and meet whatever lay in wait along the way, or find somewhere closer by next to his destination to recover. With the Voiceless in the area mostly dealt with and his scent covered, he made a gamble.
Closer to the port, the buildings got wider and taller. Boardhouses made their return and big warehouses took up much of the space, the occasional shop or bar littered in between. Alleyways were practically everywhere making the city a maze to foreigners and the mindless alike. He remembered using them to shake off the guardsmen as a kid, just like now. Life doesn’t really change.
After some five minutes or so of running he darted into the nearest house, only a short walk away from the third Apothecary. He shut the door, locked it, then immediately started shoving every piece of furniture he could in front of the doors and windows. Then he ran through the kitchen and ate just about every piece of food he could find.
Immediately his blood energy began breaking the food down, supplementing what was required to heal him. Silas ran upstairs and into a random room, pushed a linen closet in front of the door, and then sat inside it before he passed out.
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The Miveraj Sea, distinctly black in colour, reflected the silver moon as the duo sat on the shore, staring out across the water where a sail still stood straight, piercing the sky. They could see it slowly sink, the gorgeous red colour being swallowed by the sea. A trail of wooden pieces floated across the ocean’s surface, leading straight from the sail to the sandy beach of Ebelor.
And yet they only touched a single piece of wood when they came to shore. He was wearing his father’s glasses, making faces at his brother, when it happened. They watched their parents fall away from them as the ship split down the middle, a massive black figure shooting up into the air and letting the silver light reflect off of its scales.
He grabbed his brother’s hand tight as they fell into the icy water, feeling the cold pierce their bones. With all the strength his tiny body could muster, he swam towards one of the bigger pieces of wood and practically made the other child grab onto it as he did the same. The screams surrounded them like a cage, the ship slowly being lost to the sea.
Why couldn’t he remember what happened next?
The boy shook his head and an hour had passed while the boy waited for rescue with his brother. Their parents would save them. He was sure of it. They’d pull them from the water and find another way. He couldn’t cry or his brother would cry too. The screams died out, only the soft sway of the waves comforting them as the tide gently sang to them.
Unsure of why, the boy looked down into the water. A shadow many, many times the size of the ship was coiled up beneath them, its head mere inches from their feet. Sleek black scales and gorgeous violet eyes, it slowly lifted itself out of the water mere feet above them. The monster’s eyes narrowed and its gaze fell upon the two boys. He couldn’t understand the look in it’s eyes, he just felt the fear.
Fear that it would kill them both. Fear that it had already killed their parents. Fear that it would only take one, leaving him all alone. Fear that they’d be left to die in this cold, cold sea. The boy, merely four years old, watched as the serpent lowered its head towards them and gently nudged the piece of driftwood.
That gentle nudge seemed magical to the boy. That gentle nudge pushed their little piece of driftwood all the way to shore without a second push, easily over a mile away. The boy quickly pulled his brother out of the water and onto the sand, turning around just in time to see the monster slowly descend back into the water. A deep, guttural roar rang out like a death knell as the beast disappeared completely.
It took six hours for the boys to be found alongside the washed up corpses and debris.
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Silas groaned, pushing the linen closet doors open and falling out flat onto the floor with a thud. His hand still gripped the Bloodstone tight, barely having used ten percent of the energy inside. With a quick use of his Innate Talent, Cleanse, his mind cleared the haze he felt and slowly caught himself up with what was going on.
His hand was fucked. Until it was healed, he couldn’t use it without blood energy and even then, the pain would be excruciating. The quick fix of his shoulder didn’t quite work properly either, still sore and stiff to use. Blood energy had been keeping his ribs together even while broken but that didn’t get rid of the difficulty breathing or moving.
The best he could do right now was a brisk jog. His gun was still in option but the stiff shoulder meant sluggish aiming. Not to mention his blade definitely needed sharpening now. The whole thing was a shit show.
Silas had to finish the mission and get back. He couldn’t waste time healing here. Alone. Defenceless. He couldn’t go back with nothing either. Silas couldn’t let this be an obstacle, only an opportunity; he had to keep improving, he had to find them!
He stood up a little too fast and forced out a pained cough, using the wall as support to slowly walk outside. He’d make his body move, one step at a time, until he found his people or he died trying.
As the vague images of his dream flashed through his mind, his eyes flourished with purple light and his steps grew steady. Silas didn’t notice how the Nightmare Seed briefly stopped turning or how his blood energy sped up without reason. He just focused on every step forward.