Advent of Eternity - Chapter 52 (Patreon)

Eliza’s world was pain. Agony wracked her body, coursing through her veins like magma. Her head pulsated and her fingers felt like they were rotting off. The world spun around in a greenish haze, and every sound that reached her ears felt like an explosion.

Through the suffering, she could barely make out flashes of cold stone pressed against her flesh. Shadowy forms floated in and out at the edges of her vision, and for an instant, she caught a flicker of a white beard.

Darkness started to encroach on her vision, and she almost welcomed it. She was spent. The pain was too much, and the darkness brought relief. Her body relaxed, going still as she started to let go.

And then the world warped. The darkness vanished, ripped away from her, and the pain began anew. Eliza would have cried if she had any tears left to shed or if her body could even twitch of its own volition.

It happened again. And again. Every single time the shadows reached up to comfort her, they were banished. Everything started to blend together into a mishmash of pain and blurry color.

Eliza didn’t know how long she floated in the void between life and death, poison tearing through her very being. What little mental resistance she had left was long gone, worn away by the agony.

Words floated in and out of her mind, but they meant nothing to her. The longer the torture went on, the more it seemed to melt into one endless eternity. And then, from the spiraling nothingness, a single clear thought flashed past her mind.

A white haired man, his mouth spread in a grin, as he was pressed to the ground by dozens of weapons. Blood covered his body, but there wasn’t an ounce of defeat in his eyes. He was indomitable. He didn’t spit in the face of death – he simply ignored it. There was no fear or anger – just refusal.

It was as if he had told the end of all things that he didn’t care. Die or live, it was the same to him. Eliza clutched onto the memory like a drowning sailor to a piece of flotsam. And, from the endless sea of pain, something new bloomed.

***

Knell’s staff clattered from his hands. He groaned, too tired to reach the few inches over to pick it back up. There wasn’t a single modicum of strength or magic left in his body. He was spent.

Stix’s hands clenched and she picked his staff up, setting it down on his lap.

“That’s enough, Knell. Don’t kill yourself.”

“I – I know,” Knell said, his head thunking against the wall as he looked up to the ceiling. “That’s all I can do. I just wanted to take something more from the gods. Even if it was something as simple as a mortal life. To keep her from Mordrigal for just a little longer – it’s worth it.”

“You really hate them, don’t you?” Stix asked.

“More than anything,” Knell replied. “You cannot comprehend how evil they truly are, but you will.”

“I think I’m starting to get an idea,” Stix replied, looking sadly at the prone woman. The patch of purple flesh had grown until it covered most of her back, peeking out from the tatters of her clothes like an angry bruise. “This isn’t your fault, though. You did everything you could.”

“I know that,” Knell replied, the corner of his lips tugging upward for an instant. “I don’t blame myself. I did more than I should have. This was a risk. I just hate seeing the innocent suffer. I do not want to see others like me.”

Stix’s hand twitched, as if she were considering patting him on the shoulder. Then the woman on the ground twitched. They all froze as she bolted upright with a gasp. Sweat poured down her body and her breathing came in ragged gasps.

The poison that had been spreading across her receded, pulling back across her body and collecting in a small scar just above her shoulder.

“Whiskey,” Stix breathed. “She’s alive?”

“I-I’m alive?” the woman asked, staring at her hands. “Was that the afterlife? Did you bring me back?”

“Well, would you look at that?” Cyll asked, clapping his hands. “Don’t doubt your captain, Stix.”

The girl spun toward him. Her mouth dropped open and she scrambled back, stopping against the wall. Reverence and awe shone in her eyes. “You died. I saw you die. To save us.”

“What, me?” Cyll asked with a chuckle. “Dying is out of style, so I decided not to.”

“But – you were buried by slavers,” she whispered. “Did you kill them all?”

“No,” Stix said. “We ran after doing what we could to free everyone. The good Captain dragged me back so I could get away in time.”

The woman’s eyes widened. “Wait, we’re still in danger! We have to move, the slavers are close. They could–”

“They’re not here,” Knell interrupted her. “We went through a portal and broke it. This area is safe. Try not to strain yourself too much right now. Just relax. That poison nearly killed.”

“I don’t understand how it didn’t,” she said. “It’s fading now, but I could feel it. Death. I should have passed on, but something stopped me…”

Her words trailed off as she glanced from Cyll to Knell.

“…you said he dragged you back,” she breathed. “It was you? You kept me alive?”

Knell inclined his head slightly.

“Are you a god?”

Knell’s face darkened and Cyll snorted in laughter.

“He is not,” Stix said. “Touchy subject.”

The tension in the woman’s back faded and she shifted to her knees before pressing her head to the ground. “I thank you for saving my life. All of you. I – I am relieved. I thought I was going to die. That the gods had abandoned me.”

“They did,” Knell replied gruffly. “Although they never cared for you in the first place. The thing that saved you was your own perseverance. I simply paved a path for you to follow.”

She raised her head slightly, not daring to make eye contact with Knell. “I owe you all my life. Thank you. My name is Eliza.”

“It was fun. Don’t worry about it,” Cyll said. “Nobody deserves to be a slave.”

“I – I have a request,” Eliza said, swallowing. “My brother. He was taken by the slavers and sold before I was, at another city. Can you save him?”