I did not remember when I uttered the last word of the incantation. What I knew was only that a golden ray of light engulfed both of my palms as I pressed them down on the bloody injury.

The stifling smell of blood filled my mind, coupled with the sight of red.

I looked down at her body writhing on the ground, her dirty and bloody face contorted in pain and terror, tears prickling down her eyes. She was trying to process the present horror with a childish disbelief, blinking away the involuntary tears, hoping to wake up at the end of this nightmare.

This was not a dream, however. The woman was choking on her own blood, and my mana was ebbing away with every passing second. Black spots danced in front of my eyes as I poured almost every bit of mana into the wound in a desperate attempt to heal it.

Only but a shred of mana did remain in my body when I lifted my blooded hand to see the results of the spell.

I had to squint my eyes to see the thin scar under the red carpet that covered everything. Ariawyn’s hands, too, were grasping against the scar. Her body jerked as she turned on her side and started vomiting. Blood mixed with stomach acid sprayed against the ground and the distant smell of ammonia slowly filled the cave.

I was staring at her shaking body as the woman vomited until there was nothing else in her stomach and throat. Then, with an inhuman effort, she flipped on her back, stopping herself from falling into her own vomit.

Violent shivers run through her, one after the other, physically shaking her body like a plate of jelly. She coughed, spitting bloody spit as she crawled backwards until she could lean her head against a wall. As if she was afraid that she might drown if she dared to lay her head on the floor.

Then and only then did she truly looked back at me. Her blurry blue eyes once again felt clear as she stared back. A mountain of words shared in a simple glance.

I was shaking too, back stiff as a tight string. The pressure was only released at the sight of her survival. Like a marionette cut from her strings, I dropped on my butt. Barely enough strength remained in me to keep sitting upright while I stared back into those pristine blue eyes.

Her shaky hand was clutching against the skin of her neck, right above that scar.

“I-I…” — She tried speaking, her lips moving rigidly, her voice surprisingly strong yet cracked. — “I am… alive?”

Her words were only answered by silence. As nor me or Camilla seemed to believe that very statement.

“H-h-how?” — The woman asked, disbelief and shock filling out those blue eyes that never left my own.

It was me who broke the eye contact at last. Looking down at my bloody coat and hands. My magic has worked? My mana was just enough. The thoughts swirled in my mind, yet I was too afraid to state it out-loud. Fearing that what I was seeing will turn into an illusion and scattering the moment I voiced that observation.

There were shuffled steps hovering next to me as Camilla’s voice rang in the suffocating silence. — “Eh… I can’t actually believe that worked. For a second there I really thought you lost your mind Lora… Speaking dark elf and all that shit out of the blue. I mean… even I understood some of the words that jerk said, but speaking it without an accent while knowing your age is just messed up.”

“I… I can’t help it… it’s one of my patrons’ gifts…” — I said, honestly. I was too shocked to even attempt a lie at the time.

Camilla froze for a second, then asked in disbelief. — “Your patron’s power is to teach you dark elf? I don’t know but, your patron sounds like a bastard to me…”

I couldn’t help but snort at the ridiculous idea. I was lightheaded and tired, both mentally and physically, but for whatever reason, the thought of Camilla calling the creator god a bastard caused a deep and absurd snort to break out of my throat.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

Maybe… because at the time I had the same thought, even if I couldn’t quite put it into words yet.

Seeing me dissolving in a state of giggles, Camilla raised a questioning eyebrow at me. A snarky smile tugging at the edge of her lips. — “Oh, my? To think that the boys kept lecturing me how insensitive I was… Finally, I found someone who appreciates my humour.”

Even Ariawyn’s strict expression seemed to smoothen a bit at the sight of our antics.

Camilla, seeing that I was yet to finish my maniacal giggling, turned to the older elf. Posing a question to her, a question that seemed to freeze the air in the cavern. — “So, what now? I don’t think those were the last of them? I loath to be the voice of reason, but seeing the state of the two of you, someone had to make a reasonable call.”

I quickly swallowed the forceful laughter that was shaking my body and stared at the dark ground, as the shadows stretched and shrank based on the position of the single light source. My still active light magic that at some point jumped out of my hand was gently circling above my head. Providing the briefest of light in the absolute darkness of the tunnels.

I shivered at the idea of being here without a shred of light. My heart rate quickened from the thought alone.

“Ugh…” — I groaned, miserably. Unable to answer Camilla’s question. I would have rather ignored it altogether. The thought of seeing more dark elves caused my inside to quiver. I was feeling physically ill. An ancient, instinctive fear was planted in me that reinforced the shaking in my hands.

I was seriously questioning the wisdom of Lord Axis. Did I look like someone who could unite nations with so many differences under the same banner? For fuck’s sake, back in the day I could hardly win a fucking argument on the internet, and there was no physical threat.

I felt desperate tears flood my vision once again. — “No… I can’t do this… this is a fucking mess!”

I felt a hand grasp my shoulder as Camilla tried to comfort me awkwardly. — “Eh-uh, don’t cry… I mean… I didn’t understand most of what that creep said to you… What I did, wasn’t nice… but, what I want to say is… Ugh… just don’t listen to him, he is dead and I won’t let any of them touch you.”

“It’s not that… I mean… not just that…” — I pulled myself together and answered hesitantly. A fresh burst of shame coloring my ghostly white face. What was I thinking here, being comforted by a girl a third of my age?

It was at that time, when both of us were suddenly engulfed in a bone squeezing hug. One that pulled the hovering Camilla down to her knees right beside me. I realized with a startled expression that it was Ariawyn who “attacked” us.

This time, I didn’t protest. Even Camilla accepted the hug, only showing meek resistance, wrinkling her nose reluctantly.

We stayed like that for a time. I was listening to the still frantic beating of the wood elf’s heart. In a strange contradiction, the sounds of her fluttering heart seemed to calm me. It meant that she was still alive, and that I didn’t fail.

The woman whispered into our ears with a serious tone, one that did not leave any place for argument. — “You did what you have to. There was no other way, and I am proud of you for that. Both of you, girls.” — She shook us a bit.

Camilla looked aside with a wrinkled nose as she was unintentionally covered in blood from the hug. Still, contradicting her outward reluctance, I couldn’t help but notice the way she clung to the older woman. She couldn’t be honest even at this time… what a fool.

I thought, but was immediately proved wrong in my assumption.

The girl sniffed, her features contorting in disgust, as she added as gently as she could.

“That’s… quite alright… but you smell of piss and vomit…” — There was an awkward pause before she added hastily. — “… Blood too… I mean, I have nothing against hugs, but… we could continue, maybe, another time? After you washed up, preferably?” — The girl offered with a hesitant smile, somewhat aware of the absurdity she just stated.

Now that she mentioned it, I noticed the smell, too. Curiously, I didn’t notice it before. Probably because I was so used to it in the hospital.

The older woman slowly let up her hug and leaned away with a dead inside expression that somewhat scared me. Her previously lively eyes felt empty as she sniffed the air. — “Ah…” — She said in a small voice. — “I guess, I have pissed myself…”

There was a long silence after that, as all three of us stared at the dark floor between us.

At last, Camilla jolted out of her stupor and said in a high-pitched voice filled with panic. — “I-I-I-I-mean… nobody is criticizing you for that… If there is a right time for an adult to piss herself, it is when… I mean…” — Her eyes darted around in the dark tunnel, trying to find anything that could help her out of this mess. — “I mean… I would definitely piss myself as well, if I was in your place I-that is…“

A flashback of Langley from Camilla’s adventuring team burrowing his face in his palms with a deep sigh blinked into my mind. I suddenly felt an unspoken connection to the man, even if we only ever spoke a few words. At that time, it seemed that we understood each other’s suffering, connecting through time and space.

There was a faraway look in my eyes, while in the background, a stifling silence fell over the cave partition. Camilla fidgeting next to me, unable to look into the eyes of the wood elf.