Chapter 59: An Ancient Anger

Hima stayed in bed the rest of that day, whatever had been left of it. At first, Miro tried to insist that he stay by her side, partly to keep her company and partly because he had absolutely no interest in exerting any kind of effort to move anywhere else. Eventually, Nydra shook some sense into him, and offered to help him to a nearby barn to sleep in. It had been largely abandoned, home currently to only their horses and a famished-looking cow, not that Miro minded. Sinking into the hay that had soaked in so many animal smells, it felt like home, and not in the bad way he would have expected, so he had a restful sleep, and woke up with his mana fully restored.

2 Skill Points Available

The message flashed as a reminder the moment he opened his eyes, but this was a decision he was not ready to make. All he wanted to do was seek out Hima, make sure she was okay, and confirm that the last few days were not just the figment of some kind of fever dream. He also did not fail to notice that he was at maximum mana, and although old habits almost made him expend a few fireballs, he knew he was saving it for something special.

When he came into Olbav and Daimir’s house, he found that Hima was already awake, sitting up in bed, taking a sip from a fresh hot batch of that awful-smelling green concoction Daimir prepared.

“Thank you, it tastes very …”

“It tastes awful,” Daimir interrupted, “But I’m not giving it to you for the taste.” Daimir smiled and seeing Miro come in through the door, nodded and headed out of the room.

“Hey,” Hima said, and Miro could tell she was uncomfortable about every aspect of the position that she’d found herself in.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

“If there was a time in my life that I’ve felt worse, then I’ve successfully blocked that memory out.”

“Does that stuff actually work?” he nodded in the direction of the bowl.

“With a taste like that, it better.”

Miro let out a small unsure laugh and then fell silent. Not being able to find anything to say, he puffed his cheeks slightly before letting out a huff of air, and then looked to the scorched part of the wall where his errant fireball had hit a couple of days earlier.

“I wanted to say thank you …” Hima said and Miro whipped his head around to face her.

“What? That? No way, please … you would’ve done the same thing … but faster.”

“Wow,” she drew out the word with her voice still hoarse, “Four whole Charisma points and you’re still making it weird. I guess that’s one thing you can’t blame on the debuff.”

“You’ve heard about that?”

“There were whispers.”

“Looks like it’s all gone.”

“Good.” She regarded him with tired eyes and Miro realized that what had really been different about her was not how tired she looked or how pale she was but that she was not wearing her cloak. “How do you feel, now that you don’t have it?” she asked.

“Feels good, mostly,” Miro said. “I haven’t really had a chance to test out my powers yet. Sorry.”

“I think I have an idea how you can put them to good use.” When he answered with nothing but a confused look she said, “Is it still out there?”

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

“The black stuff?” he asked and she nodded. “Yes.”

“Alright then, let’s go,” Hima said and started lifting her back from the pillow that she was propped up against.

“Woah, what’re you doing?” Miro asked.

“What?”

“I thought you said you felt awful.”

“I didn’t say I couldn’t move.”

He stood there, unmoving, not even sure what he could do if she decided to get out of the bed, while she regarded him with that familiar look – like he was a mosquito and she was deciding whether it was worth swatting him.

“Did you hear it?” she asked finally. “The thing I heard before I lost my cracking mind.” Hima’s eyes seemed to turn an even darker shade of brown. “Did you also hear it?”

The whispers calling to him from deep within the black river; Miro couldn’t just go ahead and lie to her.

“I did.”

“Then you know what it felt like.” With a stifled groan she swung her legs over the side of the bed and started to stand. “I need to go see it.”

Alright, well, I’m not going to stop you,” Miro said, handing her the cloak that was hanging on a single nail behind the door.

“How generous of you, considering the impossibility of you even trying.”

As she put on her cloak and started to walk out of the room, there was a stiffness to the icewinder’s movements, an odd thing to observe considering she usually moved in a way that resembled a blizzard. He trailed behind her, and as they walked past the kitchen Nydra turned her head sharply in their direction, “Hima, should you be –” but then stopped when she saw Miro shaking his head vigorously.

Whatever was to be said of Hima and the state she was in, she still moved quicker than one would ever expect of someone who was bed ridden for two days straight, and took them back to the field where it all happened. The stream of black stuff was still there, seemingly unphased by the two fireballs that Miro had sent into it a couple of days earlier. Hima stared down into its depths, her heavy breathing that was prompted by the brisk walk there slowly receding into a dangerous calmness.

“Can you hear it now?” Miro asked.

“I can,” she said, taking some of the tension out of him as he had feared she was already gone again. He was aware of Nydra, Peteri and the old couple behind them, keeping a respectful distance, but to Hima it didn’t seem that they even existed. “Can you?” Hima asked.

“Yes,” Miro whispered. It was worse when he looked directly at it, a foul murmuring clogging his ears and seeping into his brain. “Do you understand what it’s saying?”

“No,” Hima said with a tight jaw, “But it’s calling me back. Thinks it can get me again.” Miro was about to put a steadying hand on Hima’s shoulder when she said, “Enough, let’s just do this.”

Hima’s hands fizzled to life with a blue glow and Miro followed suit, setting both of his ablaze. The muted chattering in his head began to resemble laughter, something that Hima must have heard too because in that moment her eyes narrowed, her eyebrows gathered into a livid point and she unleashed a continuous torrent of icy energy into the black stream. Miro did the same thing – firing off his entire arsenal of fireballs into the same spot as Hima, turning it so bright that it was painful to look at.

The other thing that hurt was the hissing in his ears – more urgent than when he had struck the black river by himself, it rose into a snarl before being silenced when they had both run out of mana. There was a light greyness around the patch that they had bombarded, which was already being gradually subsumed back into the blackness. Still, as far as Miro could tell, the stream had narrowed by a few inches, and one of its small offshoots had shriveled up entirely.

“That felt good, right?” he asked, facing Hima while she stared down into the dark stream.

“Better than nothing.” She turned to face him, bags under her eyes and gritting her teeth, and he noticed that she appeared a couple of inches shorter since she couldn’t quite keep her legs straight. “It’s not hurt, though,” she said, “Just angry.”

“That’s at least somewhat disconcerting,” Miro said, looking off in the direction of the Deep Scar Mountains.

“You know what the worst thing is, though?” Hima asked. “That you’re right. I do need to lie down.”

With that, Hima’s knees buckled, and Miro stepped in to catch her under the arm. Nydra was also there in a flash and got her other arm, and together they ushered her towards the house.

“No, I’m fine, I’m fine,” Hima protested grumpily, but otherwise gave no resistance.

Once they got her to the house, they lay her down on the bed, which she also submitted to without fuss, and then almost instantly fell back asleep. As Nydra eased Hima out of her cloak, a chain with a small brass medallion that Hima had apparently worn around her neck was loosened from her clothing and now rested on her chest. It was in the shape of a crescent moon, small tendrils coming out from the concave outside edge of the shape. There was something familiar about it that Miro could not place, but in a moment he was ushered out of the room.

“We’re sorry about crowding you,” Nydra said to Olbav as she closed the door behind her, “I think we might need to rely on your hospitality for another few days.”

“Oh, think nothing of it,” Olbav said. “Anything that young woman needs to recover, we’re happy to provide.”