TIME IS RUNNING OUT
“Yes.”
Marf stares at the swirling deep red portal that had appeared before him out of nowhere, dubiously. “Just... leap right in.” He side eyes Damien with no small amount of suspicion, causing a loud sigh to be sent his way. “Yes, I’ll be right behind you. Now hurry up and go.” Damien said as he extended an arm out towards it, feeling just a little bit annoyed that Marf wasn’t moving any faster.
Marf, still with Lycana laying limp in his arms, but now covered by a loose, flowing garment, inches closer. In all likelihood it would be fine, but he wouldn’t put it past Damien to send him off to another country never to be seen again. With cannibals or something. That prick. With a grumble, he steps forward and disappears inside, Damien directly behind him, both swallowed up by the burgundy magic.
Only to step out on a stunning beach, the sand glowing bright white as the sun beat down on it. Marf squints against the glare as Damien arrives at his side, and the portal silently disappears. Weird. He would never get used to or understand all this magic shit Lycana was involved in. Damien leads the way up the beach towards a break in the dunes, a pathway barely visible. As they draw closer, a familiar figure appears at the top of the trail.
“What the hell is she doing here?”
“You two aren't the only ones with special mind link powers.”
Marf glares from Damien to Arcana and back again.
“Nah, I’m kidding. How do you think that portal opened? I can't do it. I called her.”
“You’re an asshole.”
“I am.” Damien says agreeably, as he strides forward to greet his friend with a warm embrace. Arcana flashes him a small, concerned smile before settling her amber eyes onto Marf, who is glaring at her. “And why are you helping?”
“I owed her.” Arcana says simply. “She brought back Damien and now I’m returning the favor so the debt will be paid.” Marf gives a short nod. That, at least, made a little bit of sense even if he hated being forced into trusting either of them. Damien leads the way as they rush through a path, none of them really taking the time to appreciate the beauty of their surroundings. The cool, clear water trickling over the smooth, multihued rocks in the stream, the lush vegetation, the flora, all ignored in their headlong rush towards their destination. Damien slows, coming to a stop as the trees begin to thin out, the sun much brighter down the path than it was. He turns back to face Marf and Arcana.
“Just up ahead is the Vathres Springs.” Damien informed them, cautiously looking around as if he could sense the eyes of the Island’s guardians upon them, watching their every move. “We do this and there’s no going back, you understand that, right? You know what needs to be done here…”
Arcana simply nods her assent to Damien, well acquainted with at least some of the particulars. He had not said much on the phone, but truth be told, she was only here to relieve herself of the burden of Lycana doing her a favor. She flicks her eyes at the limp body of her rival. She should feel worse than she did. Lycana dying would ease her of her obligation just the same, but she wasn’t willing to risk Damien to do it. She crosses her arms, willing to step back and let it be done.
“Well let's go then...” Marf steps forward, looking to shoulder past Damien and keep moving down the path. “This is a one-way journey.” Damien insisted, daring to place his hand on Marf’s chest and stop him in his tracks. “This isn’t some simple baptism I’m performing here, as if I could just submerse her under the water and all would be healed. These are ancient springs of life and restoration, created by the ancient and, yes, rather immortal Gods. There’s a reason why not many people know about them and why fewer people are allowed near them.” Damien glanced over at Arcana, recalling the reason why he became so familiar with these Vathres Springs in the first place. “It requires a sacrifice.” Damien continued, glancing back at Marf. “One I’m not sure you’re quite ready to make…”
Marf, having recoiled from Damien’s touch, glowers at him. For someone who had been in such a rush, he was awfully talky all of a sudden. He nods, trying to hurry Damien on, until a single word pierces through more than the rest. His brow furrows. “Sacrifice?” Marf repeats, not really sure where Damien was going with this. It was the first he had heard of it, and if they had to do something beforehand, it should have been set up and ready. “What are you talking about?”
“The Vathres Springs acts as a… catalyst, so to speak.” Damien tried to explain, looking down at the motionless body of Lycana. “Life begets life; to cure her of this poison and bring her back, someone needs to transfer their life force into hers.”
“Speak plainly Damien, what the fuck are you saying?” the words burst from Marf, his frustration boiling over at the time they were wasting just standing around, while Lycana hung limply from his arms. He shifts his hands, allowing himself to cup her neck, taking a small comfort from the heartbeat under his fingertips, as thready as it was. “To save Tavora, you need to surrender yourself to her completely.” Damien matter-of-factly stated. “You need to become one with her, to give her everything you are... your body, your mind, and your soul. And… there’s no guarantee that you’d survive the process. I don’t know how far the poison has spread. If we do this transfer of energy, it’s quite possible that you’d simply take her place on death’s door.”
“I would die for her.” he states, looking down at her waxen face, before looking back up at Damien. “I would die for her.” he repeats it, making sure that the other man knew he meant it as a statement, rather than questioning what would happen. There was no hesitation in his response, knowing that in the same position, she would offer her own life up willingly. Damien narrowed his eyes and fixed his gaze with Marf’s, as if trying to measure up his words with his intentions. After a brief stare down, Damien exhaled deeply, rolled his eyes, and placed his arms out to receive Lycana into his care. “You really are a stick in the mud.” Damien sighed, his fun ruined. “Hand her over.”
Marf jerks away, staring at him. “The fuck?” He cradles her body closer to him. “What are you talking about? And if you think I’m letting you take her without me, you're out of your damned mind.”
A voice pipes up the sidelines, almost forgotten. “Damien here, was lying. There is no sacrifice needed.” a small thread of humor runs through her voice, as Arcana struggles to keep a smirk off her face, shaking her head slightly at Damien’s antics. It wasn’t the time, as much as she enjoyed it. Marf on the other hand, gives a low growl, his fingers flexing as if they wanted to wrap themselves around Damien’s neck and squeeze.
“Lighten up Marfy, no sacrifice needed, you get to live, for now.” Damien winked over at Arcana, who seemed slightly perturbed by his inopportune timing to play a joke on the big man. “But now is not the time to be stubborn... whether you believe it or not, Kaiya and I are here to help. She got us this far, now I have to carry Tavora across the finish line.” Damien pulled back his shirt, revealing to him the insignia of Hecate, the six-pointed sun star encircled by three symmetrical barriers burned into his flesh, directly over his heart. “This is why you can’t go any further.” Damien informed him, trying not to glare in the direction of Arcana. “Though, if you’re so inclined to join the VIP club, I’m sure Kaiya can arrange a meeting between you and the Goddess of Light. But that’s a different time for a different day, do you want to save Lycana or not?”
“You’re a real fucking dipshit.” Marf snarls, slowly extending his arms to place her into Damien’s waiting embrace, not liking it at all. Not only did he have to trust this asshole, he wouldn’t be able to even be there to keep an eye on things. And even better he had to wait with... He glares at Arcana. “Go. She had better live.” Marf steps back to lean on a tree, his face reminiscent of a thundercloud as Damien turns and leaves, leaving him feeling helpless behind, and hating every second of it.
She felt weightless in his arms, her eyes closed in silent reverie as her heart beat had slowed to a near crawl. The poison had spread throughout most of her body, her veins turned a dark blackish purple. A normal person would’ve perished long ago but Lycana was anything but normal. He wondered what type of resistance she possessed to keep her hanging on by a thread.
Was it biological; something written into her DNA? Or was it a spell of some kind, the mystical arts always coming into play whenever it involved her, Arcana, or their cult leader. Damien proceeded through the brush and continued down the barely noticeable path. It had been some time since anyone had traveled this way, making him wonder if he had been the last to traverse this journey all those years ago. And now here he was again, back where, in essence, it all started. Erebus, with the help of Asclepius, had saved him all those years ago. Was this just another part of his destiny? Spared from death twice now, just so he could pay it forward and return the favor to Lycana?
He dared take a glance at her still features, her eyes fluttering under their lids, her lips and body quivering from the cold. She had linked herself to him, but he didn’t quite understand the how of it yet. Despite the various injuries he had endured during the battle in the Packlands, no similar marks had shown up on her body. And he didn’t feel the illness of the poison coursing through his own veins so it seemed clear that any physical effects to one did not affect the other. Still, death was death; and if she succumbed to the darkness, would she drag him down with her?
“You shouldn’t be here, Damien…” a voice called out from behind him, forcing Damien to pivot on his heel. He turned to see the aforementioned Asclepius, known around these parts as Paul, picking what appeared to be berries from a nearby berry bush. Paul plucked each one delicately and carefully, briefly examining them before placing them into his hand-woven basket that hung loosely off his arm. His skin was brightened and darkened by the countless days under the sun. He wore no shirt and a baggy pair of shorts that stopped just above the knee. His feet were bare as he preferred to feel the earth beneath them.
“I would’ve called first…” Damien sarcastically remarked, his eyes scanning the nearby area for any sign of impending danger. “But that would’ve required you to step out of the 18th century…”
“Why are you here?” Paul merely responded, going about his duties as if he were simply talking to himself.
“My…” Damien glanced down at Lycana in his arms, trying to choose his words carefully. “… friend needed help.” Paul stopped for a brief moment to survey the status of said ‘friend’ before returning to his chore. “Does Erebus know you’re here?” Paul asked as he tossed aside a berry that had not ripened the way it was supposed to. “No.” Damien responded, figuring it useless to try and lie his way through this conversation. “She doesn’t have much…”
“I shouldn’t have to remind you of what happened the last time you tried something like this.”“This is the only way.” Damien practically pleaded, trying not to sound too desperate. Paul straightened his back and slowly approached, his eyes tracing over Lycana’s body. “Poison?” Paul assessed, almost instantly. “From a Gorgon.” Damien answered. One of Paul’s eyebrows perked up as he carefully examined Lycana’s condition. “Impressive.” Paul coldly replied. “I thought them to be extinct. Dangerous creatures, they are. Their venom is toxic enough to affect even a God… who would possess such a weapon?”
“I’d ask the guy that wielded the blade.” Damien retorted. “But he’s nothing more than a pile of flesh and bones.”
“A pity.” Paul turned away and went towards the next berry bush. “I fear your friend is too far gone, Damien. The Vathres Springs, though powerful with its healing waters, cannot cure everything.”
“Then at least I can say that I tried.” Damien countered. “Assuming that is, you permit me to pass.” Paul seemed to contemplate the request for a moment before nodding his head, a non-verbal sign to those watching in the trees to allow Damien to continue. “This does not come without a price Damien.” Paul instructed, glancing over his shoulder. “When the time comes, I will expect recompense.”
Great, indebted to another God. If Lycana did indeed survive this, Damien may just kill her himself for putting him in this position once again. Damien muttered some sort of reassurance before pressing onward to the final destination, the path taking him upon a clearly where a bevy of singular waterfalls flowed into a small basin. The water was crystal clear, shimmering with the colors of the foliage. The sun hit the pond in such a way; it seemed like rainbows danced across its surface.
Damien looked down at Lycana, took a deep breath, and waded into the water.
____________________________________________________________________________________
She slams into the water, having to refrain from taking a deep gulp as the cold river envelops her in its icy grip. She takes a moment to orientate herself, then kicks off, gliding under the surface in what she hoped was away from where the Lich and his merry band of ghoulies were. She expects daggers to come flying in at any moment. She swims under for as long as she can, until her lungs beg for oxygen. She tilts up, breaking the surface with a sharp gasp, treading in place as she turns to see a frustrated looking Lich glaring at her from the dais.
Well, as frustrated as a skull could look.
She grins, wanting nothing more than to flip him the bird. “Swim back! You will regret it Tavora!” he bellows at her. “Oh sure, I’ll get right on that.” she cackles, sarcasm heavy in her words now that she was out of his reach. Big tough Lich King afraid of the water. Now, as long as this damn river got her somewhere out of his reach, maybe she could find.... “ERK!”
She is yanked unceremoniously under the water by something wrapped around her leg. She kicks wildly, landing a lucky blow and its grip loosens. She shoots to the surface once more, popping up to see Eadon scurrying about. “I told you! Get her! Get her for me!” the Lich yells, pointing his bony finger at the water. The lost souls all go into motion, stumbling without hesitation into the river with a splash. They pop up and bob along, seeming to float towards her.
Nope.
Lycana kicks backwards, trying to put some distance between them, but a splash to her side has her head whipping around just in time to see something break the surface and submerge again. Well fuck. He hadn't been lying. She feels something brush against her thigh and she smacks out, thrashing wildly in the water. And still the heads of the undead bob closer. Until one disappears with a loud bloop. Her eyes widen. They took them too?
Shit.
She begins to swim, with no direction other than AWAY. Every so often something would break the surface, making her switch. Something grabs at her trailing toga. Then her foot. Then her calf. She twists, spinning around right into the blank eyes of a ghoul. She shrieks as he reaches out to her, suddenly disappearing under the surface.
Only to be replaced by another. She bats at it, trying to push her away. The whole time the Lich is screaming from the shoreline, adding to the chaos. Another underwater creature snatches at her, when all of a sudden, she feels herself being lifted into the sky. She flails wildly as the invisible force tugs at her, trying to pull her away from what was holding onto her. Ghouls arrive, adding their grasping hands to the mix. Lycana feels like she's being stretched like a toy between two siblings, helplessly dangling in the air like some sort of weird marionette.
“NO!”
The howl of denial from the Lich confirms this was not his doing. He roars as she is slowly pulled from the grasp of all the hands, splashing wildly in the water as she is lifted up... up... and spiraling out of control, she disappears into the void.
____________________________________________________________________________________
But back into the water with hands grasping her!
She strikes out at everything, her eyes unfocused, only paying attention to her desperate need to get away, to save herself or go down fighting. An animalistic sound is torn from her throat, shifting into a terrified sob as she claws desperately at her attacker's grip. “Tavora!” The word doesn’t even sink in as she twists, failing in her attempts to be free. She lashes out harder, tears filling her eyes, blurring her already compromised vision. “TAVORA!” the voice screamed in her ear now, holding her tighter as it sunk it, it wasn’t the Lich’s voice it was....
“Damien?”
She blinks, his face over her slowly coming into focus as she sags in his arms. Damien let out an exhale as he tried clearing her face of the soaked and mattered strands of hair that clouded her vision. He had started to think that Paul was right; that she was too far gone. He had kept her submerged underwater for almost an hour. He saw the colors swirling around her, the magic doing everything as it should, but it was as if she was resisting it somehow. Was that an effect of the Gorgon poison, or something else?
“It’s okay,” Damien tried to reassure her, placing a hand on her face and drawing her eyes to his. “You’re safe-“ Before Damien could finish his sentence, his world was turning inside out and upside down. He felt like he was falling down a swirling vortex, all with images of people and places that he didn’t recognize. As he tried to grab a hold of something, anything, to stop his momentum, he came crashing down inside the deep recesses of Lycana’s mind.
“You’re safe…” He heard the words again but it wasn’t his voice this time, it was hers. As he looked about, trying to figure out his new surroundings, his eyes went wide with horror as his voice caught in his throat. The blood-stained walls, the always-burning fire, the chains… he was in hell, or more accurately, the dungeons of Hecate, the Light Bringer. His eyes narrowed as he looked into the face of Lycana, staring at him, pleading. Why did she seem so… scared?
She walks towards him, holding her hands up as if to show she was no threat. But she was. Wasn’t she? She steps over the prone body of a young woman. When did that get there? How? Lycana edges closer to him, her head bobbing slightly as she speaks. “It’s okay Damien... Everything will be alright. Don’t worry, I’m here.” her voice is soothing as she sinks into a crouch, one hand out in almost a beseeching manner. “Give me the knife Damien...”
'Give you the knife? Oh I’ll give you the knife. Right in your gut you pretentious little… wait. What is this? I don’t remember this. When did this happen? I don’t have my obsidian blades yet, this was before I was a reaper. Who was that girl on the floor? Was that one of Cate’s acolytes?' Damien tried looking around but it was as if he was in someone else’s body watching things happen that he had no control over.
“I can’t do this anymore.” Damien responded, letting the blade sink further into his neck. “I should’ve never have come here, I know that now. I was a fool… such a fool. I’ve paid for it, everyday… for the past year!” Tears welled in Damien’s eyes as he looked down at the dead girl behind Lycana, her throat slashed from ear-to-ear. He had done that. He had killed her. And he didn’t feel sorry about it. “I thought she was my friend.” Damien somberly stated, allowing himself to think of the past. “Why would she abandon me like this!? Leave me here to be tortured day-in and day-out!?” His eyes went to Lycana’s, looking his primary tormentor in the face. “There was only ever one way I was getting out of here, wasn’t there?” Damien rhetorically asked, the blood flowing freely from his neck.
“No Damien! Don’t talk like that! I...” her voice was raspy with fear as it fades off, and she sinks either further down, allowing herself to drop to her knees before him. She scootches closer, within striking distance, well aware of the danger she was putting herself in. But this was Damien, and she trusted him. The realization he could feel what she did slammed into Damien. Trust?! His mind whirled.
“You aren't a fool.” she soothes, tears welling in her eyes, seeing him in this stare. “She is your friend... really, things are just different here... and... well, it would not go well for her. Now please... Give me the knife.” She swallows hard as her voice breaks on the last word. “Please.”
He hesitated. Why did he hesitate? Why did seeing her on her knees before him affect him so? Strike her down! Take her with you! What are you doing!? His other hand went to his side, a wound he had suffered in the struggle with the dead acolyte at her feet. She meant to torture him just like all the others, just like HER! But he had used her inexperience to his advantage, freed himself and killed her before she could realize her mistake. He had planned on trying to escape then before she came upon the scene. He couldn’t fight her off, he couldn’t fight any of them off. Not in his half-starved, debilitated condition.
“Why are you doing this to me?” Damien couldn’t help but ask the question, though he didn’t really expect a response. “I’ve done NOTHING to you…” The anger was rising in his gut, memories of all the ways she had tortured him flooding to the surface. Turn the blade on her! Kill her! But still, he hesitated. “I only wanted to save her.” Damien exhaled, the words rolling off his tongue as if they were drawn out in one long, exuberant breath. “I thought she was in danger, that she needed me. But she didn’t, she never did. I realize that now, too late I suppose. I just want it to end…” His eyes were void of all emotion, all humanity. He looked at her on her knees, disgusted by her pitiful display of compassion. She was pathetic… weak… damaged, just like him.
Damien closed his eyes as a single tear rolled down his cheek. He pressed the blade against the skin and dragged it across his throat.
Except he never got as far as he needed. Lycana launched herself from her position, using the element of surprise to her advantage, staying his hand with unnatural strength. He pushed against her, wrist shaking in her grasp and she tightens her hold on it. A quick flick of magic sizzles through, shocking his skin enough that his reflexively let's go, the dagger clattering to the floor, only to be sent flying away by a swiftly placed kick of Lycana’s foot. “I can’t let you...” She is cut off as he shoves her back slightly, weakly, and still she pushes forward, doing something he never expected.
She wraps her arms around him, pulling him in tight, leaving herself vulnerable to him, even in his weakened state.
“It’s okay... I’ll always be here for you. Maybe she won't, but I will...” she whispers, turning her head slightly towards the body on the floor. “I’ll handle that... Nothing will happen to you. You have my word...” She slowly pulls back, a thoughtful look coming across her face as she appears to be lost in her own mind for the moment. Damien’s knees buckled and he slumped to the floor, his eyes focusing on the blade that had been his salvation, just too far out of reach. He had failed at this, just like everything else. He swallowed hard as his left hand went to his neck while his right hand stayed pressed against the gaping hole in his stomach; neither wound was fatal, he would not be dying this day. “Why…?” Damien barely managed to get the words out, his voice quivering. “Why won’t you let me die?”
“I care about you.” the admission comes softly, and reluctantly from Lycana. “Will you let me clean your wounds?” She made the offer, knowing full well all she had to do was chain him up and he would be at her mercy to do what she wished once more. Damien swallowed hard, nodding slightly in defeat; he knew he didn't have a choice anyway, he was her prisoner - he would always be at her mercy. "You..." Damien could barely get the words out, his throat suddenly raw as the taste of defeat lingered in his mouth. "You're all I have left..."
Lycana gently puts her hand to his cheek. “I’ll always be here for you...We are friends Damien.” she gets up to fetch a bowl of clean water and a rag, scooping up the dagger as she comes along. “I promise....”
With a lurch, the world tilts on its axis and Damien is sent into the void once more. A kaleidoscope of colors and scenes fly by him at a blinding rate as he tumbles helplessly through the darkest recesses of her mind once more, becoming grounded with a jolt in a world of sterile whiteness and gleaming chrome.
“I promise we will stop if you just admit it Tavora.”
“It wasn’t me!”
The sound of an electric current and a pained wail, rising to an ear-piercing decibel fills the room. Damien blinks, taking in what is laid out before him, not really quite believing what his eyes are telling him. What he presumed was Lycana, as a child... she couldn’t be much more than eleven years old if he had to judge, strapped to a chair. Thick straps wound their way around her arms and legs, holding her steady. Even larger ones hugged her abdomen tightly, from her tiny waist all the way up to her neck, secured with heavy silver buckles. It was nearly obscene the way they swallowed her small frame. One around her head, amidst... oh God... were those, electrodes?
Indeed they were. He felt a horror wash over him as he took in the conductors adorning her skull, now noticing even more here and there, festooned upon her body. His stomach rebels at the notion that this could be true, that this wasn’t just some mental ploy by the crafty bitch to win him over. His eyes unwillingly follow the trail of wires down and over to the box they are connected to, handled by a tall, extremely slender man with salt and pepper hair. His glasses perched on the edge of his nose, he looks disapprovingly at Lycana as he cuts the power, plunging to room into quiet, punctuated by gasping sobs.
“We know you did already. Why do you insist on lying every day? Don’t you want this to end Tavora? You could leave here. I promise.” he encourages her, his deep voice oddly hypnotical and soothing. For whatever reason, it sent a chill up Damien’s spine. He drags his gaze back to the tear streaked face of Lycana, seeing it crumple with misery. Her lower lip juts out slightly, trembling as she opens her mouth. For one brief moment, he thought she would capitulate, agree with... whatever it was he was trying to convince her to agree with.
“It wasn’t me!”
Her denial burst forth, her words firm despite the terror etched all over her face. She knew it was coming, and the doctor did not disappoint. She screams as the voltage bursts through her body, and Damien is forced to turn his head, closing his eyes to the sight, wishing to be able to close his ears as well. The din slowly comes to an end.
“Why did you kill them Tavora? Your parents, your sister... they loved you. The story you tell doesn’t make sense. It was you. Just say it out loud, and all will be well. Don’t you believe me?”