Looking up above him, Norbert saw the white speckles that were Obsius shoot up into one of the holes he had seen just before, wondering when the bird could return and be his companion once more for more than a brief moment. Thinking in melancholy on his time in the forest atop the plateau, even with the wolves that attacked him, it was still a more excellent and friendlier place than this.
Remembering the little village that helped him and the family that took him in like their own son, and wondering if he would ever be able to see them again or if he would die here, trapped underneath a mountain while he was slowly turned to dust and bloody pus and pulp.
The pain subsided as Norbert forced energy into his hand, looking as the fingers slowly regrew back, seeing that it was much slower than it should be for the amount of energy he was pumping to that area of his body. Looking into the air again, Norbert saw the dark green magic throughout the air, like a fog covering everything.
Flexing his fingers, watching as they finally turned to a more normal red to light pink to finally his natural colour, Norbert placed his glove back on, his fingers squelching inside as he felt the warmth trickle down his palm. Having forgotten about the muck that he left inside the glove when his hand was deteriorating.
Biting the inside of his lower lip in annoyance, Norbert shook his hand, feeling it slide out. Norbert stepped forward, his body mainly feeling together, going further into the mist.
Seeing both sides of the hall, Norbert at least knew he couldn’t be turned around as he made his way further down.
The deeper he went, the more Norbert could see of the green mist that made up the barrier, the thicker it became, obscuring more of his vision the further he went down it. He needed to turn his magical vision on and off so he could see far enough away to avoid disorientation.
Looking at the staff, seeing it wasn’t sparking anymore in the air as Norbert slowly walked forward. Breathing in deeply, confirming that there was no more dust in the air, his nose not instantly trying to eject all the air he sucked in. Wiping his hand on his forehead, Norbert saw streaks of blood and gore on his arm.
Having not felt anything happen to him on his walk, Norbert took a dagger out, using it as a mirror as he looked at his face.
All over, it was pockmarked with holes, having burst open and dribbling their contents constantly down his face; this feeling caused him to wipe his face in the first place.
Pushing energy into and around his body, Norbert became conscious of all the damage the mist was doing to him. What was happening to his face was happening inside: flesh being eaten away, nerves damaged so as not to feel anything at all. His insides looked like Swiss cheese rather than the clean, orderly channels Norbert typically sent the energy through.
The energy slowly gained momentum inside his body as it cleared it out. Norbert held the mirror as he viewed the veins on his face turn purple, the skin around it faintly turning a tinge purple as ore it slowly started to close up.
Feeling his stomach rumble, Norbert quickly sheathed the dagger, removing the scarf from his mouth as he leaned forward on the staff. Puking his guts out, Norbert saw blood and white pus splutter against the ground, the contents finally being rid of his body.
Taking a stumbling step backwards as he wiped his mouth, not wanting to step into the mess he just made. Collecting the rest in his mouth, Norbert spat it onto the rest of the pile. Wiping his hand, Norbert stepped around the filth he had just excreted from his body, ensuring he or the staff wouldn’t step in it and possibly slip, fall in and get covered in it.
The smell is already coming off it, filling his nostrils. Covering his face with the scarf again, Norbert walked quickly forward, trying to get space between himself and the smell.
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“Warmer” The voice, in a clear, concise manner unlike the previous attempts where it sounded forceful, like a dying man’s last breath. The occupant still sounded old, reminding him sometimes of how Granny would sound when she was thinking back far in her life and fazed out of the conversation.
But unlike how she had a softness to her voice, however ancient it may become, this one was harsh, visceral, wanting to take everything from Norbert before spitting him back out like the blood and pus he just did before.
Not wanting to see what the owner of the voice had in the stall, Norbert turned around and started walking away.
“Colder.” The voice said in return, echoing around in his temples.
Before him, the barrier jumped up, Norbert stopping in his wake as he stared at it. The same dark green barrier with swirls of brown inside that was the same as the mist he was now breathing in. But unlike the mist this was, this was solid, Norbert knowing he couldn’t just cross it like it was nothing.
Stepping backwards, Norbert saw the puddle of filth he left was bisected from the portal, at least knowing that he had moved and not just walked in the same place.
“Fine, fine, you win. I’m going further in. Could you at least stop the death mist that would have killed a normal person by now?” Norbert asked.
I did not hear a response as the mist prevailed. Sighing in annoyance, it couldn’t even get slightly more accessible; Norbert continued forward. Taking several steps forward, Norbert looked behind himself, confirming that the barrier hadn’t moved.
Happy to see at least that hadn’t changed, Norbert turned quickly, whipping around again, cape flapping behind him, seeing that it was still there and hadn’t tried to surprise him. He confirmed that it wasn’t like the black mass following him.
Looking back at the way he had come, Norbert wondered if it could traverse this mist at all or if the barrier that Norbert found himself trapped in could hold it off.
Heading further down the hallway, Norbert now going at a jog, panting at the effort. Now conscious and constantly looking for the damage that the mist was doing to himself. Needing to battle the mist constantly, Norbert could not use it to propel himself, needing to recover whatever it could from the mist constantly attacking him.
As he continued to jog forward, Norbert was happy that it wasn’t a cancer-like thing, not knowing how his energy would react and if the two would go rampant and uncontrolled.
I was happy knowing that wasn’t happening now, dealing with the opposite issue, hoping it could keep up.
He was walking forward; a thought occurred to Norbert. Most people, he would assume, wouldn’t even be able to travel here in this part of the hall, knowing why Obsius had fled when she did, for the small bird by now would have perished with the bit of preparation he had done for this.
“Is the point of me being here just to die?” Norbert asked the voice.
He continued to walk as he waited for a reply, knowing it could reply if it wanted to. Norbert hoped to hear at least something. He looked up at the staff, confirming it was still shining brightly and not sputtering with sparks. Unslinging one arm from his backpack, Norbert turned it around. There on the top, looking back at him, were the pieces of his helmet.
Grabbing just the front mask, Norbert covered his face, the metal feeling cold against it. Seeing in his vision the red underneath his eyes as Norbert pushed it, confirming that the light from the staff wasn’t false.
Staring up at it, he started to distrust it. Why would there be an object so close to something that desired it? Why would it not just leave this death mist and take it themselves?
Shaking his head, Norbert stepped forward, continuing his path once again.
Changing to see the mist, Norbert couldn’t see anything past his hand being less than an arm’s length away. Turning it off, Norbert pushed more energy into his body, knowing that if he stopped, he would likely turn into paste, dropping the staff while he was electrocuted as well.
Looking back at the hallway, Norbert saw a hole form, something different from the constant length. Walking cautiously forward, Norbert looked down, seeing the hole several meters in diameter, with steps winding around it going further down. The steps were only large enough for one person to walk down at a time, unlike the spacious spiral staircases he was used to seeing in the halls. He looked more like Norbert, something he would expect to see in a dungeon.
Looking to the side, seeing divots in the stone wall where Norbert assumed torches could have been, wondering why they wouldn’t just use spells as the halls still occupied stood.
Not seeing anywhere else for him to go, that whatever was calling him was down here. Hand on the wall, the other still holding the staff, Norbert carefully went down the stairs, checking once at the mist, seeing that it was even less distant, unable to see even the light that the staff produced.
Continuing down the stairs, Norbert made it to the bottom, seeing that his assumption of it being a dungeon was correct, or possibly a jail of some kind, as he saw cell after cell in a row leading in one direction, going the same way that he travelled before.