The sudden knock pulled all of their attention to the door. Belezan gripped the sword while Kieran maneuvered his shadows. Silence filled the air, replacing the panicked squabbling between the two men. “Hello? I know you’re in there. Open the door,” called a male voice from the other side. There was no lock. Kieran was surprised it had a doorknob in the first place for being a communally used shack.
“Belezan,” said the voice. “Open the door. I’ve been tracking you for the last two days.”
Belezan frowned, his eyebrows knitting together as he tried to recall the man’s name, “Kahtan?”
“Yeah, it’s me.”
Belezan reached for the door and Kieran smacked his hand. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“I know him.”
“Yeah, and why would he follow you all the way here? Use your head for once before you get us killed.”
At best, it was just someone hunting him down. At worst, it was the Corrupted. The door wasn’t locked, it had no lock. If Kahtan wanted to come in then he could just open the door himself.
“Look, Belezan I- What the hell?!” The man started to scream. “Let me in!” The door handle shook as he struggled to open it. Kieran bolted for the door, clamping the knob shut as best he could and pushing against the door. The old man shook his head, raising the sword. “Geh- Get away from the door! He’s dying!” Kieran dived out of the way as the sword cut into the wood.
“You’re fucking crazy!”
“I told you to never call me that!”
Kahtan’s anguished cries didn’t stop. With no one to block the door, it opened. Half of Kahtan’s face had been torn off and his shoulder was exposed all the way down to the bone. The Corrupted, clung to him like a beast to its prey, claws digging into his skin while it ripped apart his flesh. Belezan lost his grip on the sword when the door swung open. The crazed old man reached for it but Kieran pulled the chain.
Using all of his strength and assisted by his shadows, he restrained Belezan and carried him on his shoulders. He blasted a hole in the cabin’s wall and ran. It took only three steps before he fell. Pain had shot up his left arm, which was definitely broken at this point, and distracted him from noticing the blanket still laying on the ground.
The screaming stopped when the Corrupted’s beady black eyes changed, shifting into larger, rounder balls. It let go of Kahtan and pierced his chest with its beastly hands. The dying man gazed at Belezan and let out a ghastly groan. His limbs turned and twisted, breaking apart and he went limp like a puppet with its strings cut.
“No!”
Kieran blasted the Corrupted backward with a shadow bolt and picked up the old man. “Let’s go! It’s too late to save him.”
Belezan took one last look before turning to run. They dashed through thick brushes, dodging branches, and leaping over rock filled gaps. In minutes they covered more ground than they had in hours. A natural overhang caught their eyes and they rested there. Fatigue overcame them almost immediately. They plopped down on near opposite ends, unable to move or even speak.
The Corrupted was different from the ones at the Loftus Manor. At first, he thought their way of eating smaller animals like squirrels were different, but after seeing the man, Kahtan, have his vitality drained from his body, he was sure of it. One type ate their prey while the other stole their very lifeforce.
“What did you do?”
Belezan glanced at him and then turned back to staring at the ground.
“If you don’t-”
“Kahtan was my son’s mentor,” he started. “He was the only one. He kept them all away while I tried to save my son, and he died because of me.”
“You… You summoned that thing?”
He nodded. “I-I only wanted to protect him. The villagers were already looking at him like he was different. I saw them talking to officials too. They were going to send him to die. I spent every day thinking of what I should do. I prayed to Bel’kah until he finally responded. A man came by a few weeks ago. He told me of a ritual that could give Colorless blessings like the rest of us.”
The beaten and broken old man seemed on the verge of tears, his eyes hazy. “I used all the money I had to purchase the scrolls and knowledge. I couldn’t read it very well but I couldn’t let that stop me. I killed some animals in secret and used their blood to draw the circles. When the day came, my son didn’t want to go through with it. He had seen the texts and heard of other incidents in neighboring villages. So I tricked him. I told him we had to go hunting and lured him here. I had him look through the tools while the ritual circle lay hidden beneath the blanket. I recited the words as quietly as I could. I was a fool.”
Belezan slams his brittle fist into the ground, “There were so many issues, so many problems. I had doubts throughout the entire process I was preparing, but I kept moving forward because I believed it would truly work. Near the end of the ritual, I felt my limbs weaken, my eyes growing heavy. Terrible pain wracked my head. The circle began to shine with otherworldly light and emit putrid odors. I knew then that something had gone wrong, but I didn’t stop. I didn’t stop until my son’s hands were covered in blood. My blood.”
“Your… blood?”
“Yes, mine. The ritual requires a sacrifice. I didn’t know until my son was screaming for me to stop. I was going to be the sacrifice.” Belezan started to laugh hysterically. “Of all the things I would do for my child, giving up my life turned out to be the line I drew.”
“So the Corrupted came out of the ritual circle. It killed your son.”
“No. No no no no. That Corrupted is my son.”
The thought was horrifying. Were all the Corrupted at the Loftus Manor once people too? Were they one of those villagers who had no other choice but to turn to a forbidden ritual? Could he have gotten blessings if he’d done it, or would he have also become a Corrupted?
“Please,” Belezan got onto his knees and lowered his head. “Please help me put him to rest.”
Little details of Mist Mountain became clearer. If they kept at their pace, they would reach the foot of it in two or three days. That was two or three more days they’d have to survive in nature off of food that nearly upset their stomachs or were too small to satiate their appetites for even an hour.
Belezan was barely keeping up. His condition was nothing short of a walking corpse. Ever since the encounter with the Corrupted a day ago, his health took a dive. Every now and then he’d ask for a rest and Kieran, just as tired, allowed them.
The matter of the Corrupted wasn’t completely settled. In a show of compassion for Belezan’s situation, Kieran agreed to kill the Corrupted but only if it followed them. So far they’d seen nothing. A cave that they could rest in was in sight, however, “Let me rest,” Belezan said.
They just cleared a lightly forested area and the sinking sun that bore down on them sapped much of their energy. The humid air did nothing to help. As they sat for the tenth time that day, the Corrupted appeared. Its arms had shrunken since they saw it a night ago and its head resembled more of a human’s, same with its eyes.
“Fuck.” Kieran pulled on the chain, dragging Belezan along with him.
“Wait… Where are you going? You said you’d kill it!”
You think I’d be stupid enough to actually do that? Fuck, this is bad. I don’t even know how many shadow bolts I can cast in this state. My arm feels like it’s gonna fall off.
It was clear from the moment he saw it that it knew where they were but the moment they ran, it ran. “FaaaaaThhERRRR,” it groaned. Tree bark flew and branches snapped. Belezan trailed too far behind and the chain was being pulled tight. Kieran ground his teeth and turned around the moment the Corrupted leapt at them. His shadows rose, catching the monster midlunge. “Jarl und vass!”
His arm jerked back from the recoil. The spell was about as powerful as the ones he used back in the castle. Instantly, his vision blurred and he staggered toward a tree. Half of the Corrupted’s face was gone as well as a portion of its shoulder. “LeeeeEEEEETTmeeeeEE inNnn…” it screeched as if to mock them.
He had to press his advantage. He held up an unsteady hand and muttered the words. At the last second, he was pulled back by the chain onto the hard dirt. “Why did-” the tree he leaned on a moment ago was now falling over as chunks of it were torn out in a single strike. The tree was thin but the Corrupted’s power was no joke. Its right arm twisted and contorted like shifting Essence.
It attacked again. Kieran braced himself for the worst. Belezan shot forward and intercepted the attack with his claws. His gifts were nothing impressive, but they were enough to save him. The Corrupted broke free of his shadows and swung. Belezan grabbed him and threw him away from the spot. When he turned back, the old man’s back was bleeding profusely and his leg seemed absolutely shattered. Tears streamed down his face as he crawled away.
The Corrupted went for the finishing strike.
“Jarl und vass!”
The Corrupted’s chest blew open, about the size of two fists. Inside he saw pieces of bone and blood as the Corrupted’s writhing black body tried to reform itself. Could he muster the Essence for another spell? No, he couldn’t. The monster’s arm shot toward him and the chain pulled tight once again, saving him from certain death.
“Kuh-Keep it together…” Belezan said as his body was in shambles. The pathetic, cowardly old man turned and dug his claws into the Corrupted’s leg. “Kill it…!”
Would one more do the job?
Shadows stretched across the forest without orders. He looked to the sky and saw a sun sinking into the horizon. An idea hit him. Belezan shouted for him to cast another bolt but he didn’t. The Corrupted ignored the old man clinging to its leg and focused all of its attention on him. Kieran dodged, rolling across the ground and hiding behind trees for his life.
“What are you doing?”
“Just a little more,” Kieran responded. His gaze shifted between the Corrupted and the sun. The trees obscured parts of its descent but he could tell from the color of the sky what time it was. Three. Two. One. He gathered Essence into his hand, steadying his shaking arm by supporting it with his broken one. “Jarl und vass!”
The amount of Essence he had left to give without dying wasn’t much, but the shadow bolt, as if drawing power from the world itself, shot forward and tore the Corrupted in two. Just like when he was still a child at the Loftus Manor. He felt his consciousness slip and fell into darkness.
When he woke up, he was in a cave. It was night and Belezan was either sleeping or dead. The old man was facing away from him, revealing the wounds he suffered during the short battle with the Corrupted. It wasn’t as bad as he thought, though the low light may have hid the worst of it. By his guess, it was sometime after midnight, maybe two hours away from dawn. Not that he could really tell. He trudged over to Belezan and checked to see if he was breathing.
He wasn’t moving and the torn clothing made it difficult to see if his chest rose at all. He didn’t want to touch the old man in case he was already a corpse. Like it or not, he owed a small part of his life to him. However, if was still alive, their progress toward Mist Mountain, even with his guidance, would be too slow. If they didn’t die to exposure, then their pursuers would certainly catch them.
As he knelt over Belezan, his mind wandered about what to do. Assuming he was dead, would he have to cut his stomach up and hope the key was in a state that he could still use? Maybe he’d just try to cut off the old man’s arm. He wouldn’t need it anymore. Unfortunately, magic was out as an option. Any more and he’d teater on the edge of life and death. He’d become partially familiar with the feeling by now.
“Belezan,” he said, waiting for signs of life. When there were none, he was about to turn him over when he saw a key. It couldn’t have been. He reached for it.
“Do you need something from me?” Belezan croaked.
Kieran jumped back, “Wh-what? You’re still alive.”
“Of course I’m still alive. Were you going to kill me in my sleep after I saved you?”
“No.”
Belezan sat up. “Are you feeling alright?”
He felt like he was wearing weights on every limb and his heartbeat felt erratic. He shrugged.
“Well, that’s fine.” Something was different about Belezan’s attitude. Though his wounds were worse than before, his speech, his voice, was crafted with great care. He showed a smile, the first Kieran had seen. “We can make it. We can escape.”
“Yeah, I’m sure.”
For the rest of that night, Kieran only pretended to sleep.
