He heard the sound first. Like the sound of ringing metal scraping along stone, but loud and coupled with the throat-tearing scream of a real person. Camaz ran through the forest, ignoring the bloody nose that he wiped with his sleeve. Laell cast a concerned look over her shoulder but kept running without making a comment.
It was stupid to have left them alone.
He and Laell had gone off to get more supplies in the closest town as they usually do. They needed food and fresh water, then certain medicine to keep Aris’s condition stable enough for her to eat. It was a precarious balance of intricate runeology and herbology, forcing the expertise of about three healers for them to figure out how to keep Aris alive. Each time, Camaz had to wipe the healer’s memory before returning them to town. This, of course, would raise questions as the healers would be in a daze for weeks on end.
So they made it a point to move around frequently but it was difficult to travel long distances with just Verne pulling Aris’s cart. They tried to follow an unpredictable route but all settlements were wary of strangers since refugees from Gate attacks started to frequent them. Strangers were memorable. It didn’t surprise Camaz that they were easily found. With Aris confined on the cart, they were immensely vulnerable.
He knew this, yet they needed to survive and he needed information. The first moment he could he went to any contact he knew so far east. Moulu was the one who frequented this area so perhaps he shouldn’t be surprised his other contacts were also compromised. Their latest foray into the latest village resulted in them being jumped by half a dozen people masquerading as villagers and they only barely managed to escape. He then made a beeline to where they had set up camp - he didn’t even need to tell Laell as she ran ahead of him.
The first thing he saw was strange smoke. It wasn’t like fire smoke; it had similar texture, density and essence as billowing fire smoke, but it seemed strangely more solid. When it rippled and moved, it had the property of flowing hair. A strange green glow flashed in the depths of the smoke, like lightning crashing through a raincloud.
Then he saw Verne on the ground with Aris’s frail body in his arms. Camaz could see more clearly as he sprinted to the clearing: a mess of smoke and green light came from her face, more specifically her eyes.
“She’s barely breathing,” Verne said, eyes wide with panic.
“What happened?”
“We were attacked. She fought with me, using her… shadow ability,” Verne said. “We eliminated all but one and she sounded like she wanted to go after them then this… smoke came from her.”
The smoke swirled above their heads as Verne spoke, a dense mass of it condensing into a round shape. It billowed outward and two green eyes appeared. They looked to be made of the same green gemstones embedded in her eye sockets. The ringing metal sound was heard again, causing Laell to clap her hands at her ears.
Then the smoke hurled itself in a direction into the forest.
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“Stay with them,” Camaz shouted at Laell over the ringing sound, then ran after the smoke. He didn’t make it far until he heard a man scream.
Within a dense thicket of trees, he saw the smoke had slowed and was making a lazy circle around a man’s body levitated off the ground and stretched upright. The man’s limbs twitched as if he was trying to move and break free from bindings. The way the smoke moved reminded Camaz of how a Shade would make slow circles over things they had interest in. But he knew this was no Shade.
“Aris, stop this right now,” he said, breathless from running. He could hear his heart pounding in his ears. “You must return to your body.”
Another tortured scream came from the man caught in the smoke. It was translucent enough for Camaz to meet the man’s wide, terrified gaze. He didn’t seem to be able to speak. Smoke filtered into the orifices in his head, including his open mouth he didn’t seem to be able to close.
“Aris,” Camaz’s voice rose in alarm, understanding what she was meaning to do. “Don’t do this.”
A green light shone out from the man’s mouth and nose and he let out spluttering, guttural groans, then tried to scream. Blood burst out from his orifices, then more and more blood spilled out seemingly from every pore. Blood soaked his clothing and dripped like rain down to the forest floor under him. Camaz watched and a wretched thought crossed his mind: was this any better or worse than things he’s done to his enemies? He couldn’t decide.
Sick in the head indeed.
“He’s dead,” he said gently. “Return to your body.”
The body dropped limp on the floor, flesh marred and bloated beyond recognition. “No…,” a hollow voice said from the smoke.
“You’ll die if you don’t go back.”
“Die…”
“I know you’re reluctant but Aris, you must live.” Camaz let his voice be cold lest she could hear what he truly felt.
“Live…”
“Yes,” Camaz said, swallowing the urge to beg. “Live.”
Camaz gritted his teeth and focused on Aris’s solute. He had avoided doing this, partially out of shame but mostly because the last time he felt out her solute, it was a complete monstrosity. If regular solutes were simply fist sized with simple curves or smooth planes and angles, hers was gigantic and felt as if barnacles covered its surface: lumpy, pebbly and skin crawling in texture. But this… unnatural projection of herself would kill her if it wasn’t contained in her mortal body. This he knew instinctively.
Return, he ordered the solute. It undulated like a living organ in the Great Solvent. Camaz shuddered. Go back!
He squeezed the solute. Usually this forced people to talk or do unspeakable things. Now he just wanted her to live. His metaphysical ‘hand’ felt something else on Aris’s solute: large jagged cracks that ran at random spots. Parts damn it, he couldn’t squeeze too hard or her very solute could crumble like cracked rock.
Like a drowsy bee, the smoke drifted back to camp and ever so slowly drained back into Aris. Verne still cradled her, holding her up at an angle. Her breathing stopped being terrifyingly shallow, but her face (or what he could see of her face) was still and ashen gray. Her gemstone eyes glittered as the last of the smoke slowly slipped back into her body.
Camaz didn’t have much experience keeping a solute alive but he was sure that cracks like that didn’t mean anything good. He’s felt enough solutes to know that.
“No more cart,” he said to Verne and Laell. “We must move, and move fast.”