Elegy For An Epilogue

Cecillia’s words echoed in the back of her mind and through the darkened cave. The utterance of such a pledge wasn’t reassuring, but it was all that kept and upheld her own fragile composure. She took a small wisp of air into her lungs, smelling the scent of the stale earth mixing with the iron of the corpses. Something about the aroma of death was calming in a way, and everything started to slowly fade away. Cecillia released the breath through a sigh, and she stared at Laen’s sleeping face—nothing other than that mattered.

She placed a cold hand on his burning cheek, a pale finger brushing the hair from his face. His breathing was still shallow, but rather than the twisted, desperate despair there was a certain contentedness in his adrift image. But time was running out, both for him, for the others, and for his father.

Cecillia pulled away slowly with fists clenched at her sides. Diana’s words still hung in the air, a truth that she had known for the past decade. No matter if it was acknowledged by her or not, the chef must have noticed something that she hadn’t. That running away wouldn’t change anything. Cecillia glanced up at the chef, just long enough to see a kindling ember emerge with those coal-like eyes. Diana met her gaze and gave her a firm nod.

“Go. Now.”

Cecillia nodded resolutely and turned towards the dark depths of the tunnels of Kaust. She eyed Doran’s fading figure, the light pulsating around his fist only growing in intensity. With the pressure emanating from the bomb, she estimated that she had around a minute until certain failure…

Her gaze drifted to Laen one last time while his words continuously replayed in her mind.

‘P-promise me…’

That was right. Cecillia had made a promise, and she intended to keep it. Without another word, Cecillia locked eyes with the chef before turning on her heels and sprinting towards the captain. The wind howled around her as she ran and the dagger at her waist was unsheathed with a rip of cold steel. Her feet pounded against the cold, rough stone, zipping past mutilated corpses while she blocked out everything in her vision other than the man. Cecillia saw the tendrils wrapped around his being, toying with his body as if he were nothing more than an action figure. Yet the destructiveness of the explosive he carried, it seemed that even the Aberration was oblivious to the danger.

‘Hang on… just a little longer,’ she bit her lip.

Cecillia leaned forward and her speed exploded once more. The muscles in her legs, primarily her calves, burned, and she was starting to regret allocating all her extra points into strength. Frowning, she dug her fingernails into the palms of her hand and kicked her acceleration a notch higher. The pain allowed her vision to clear, and everything became razor sharp. So much so that when she was only about fifty meters away, a faint glaring of silver caught her eye.

‘His sword!’

Although, the Aberration had also seemed to notice her and several of its monstrous tendrils pulsated. They coiled around Doran’s limbs like non-venomous snakes, shimmering with an unnatural energy. The creature held the man out before its maw, dangling his body in jeerful jest. It wanted the woman to see, to hear as it savored every single sweet drop of lifeforce he had to offer.

Cecillia’s lips turned down into a scowl until suddenly one of its tendrils shot towards her like a spear. Her eyes widened slightly and her body dipped to the side, her weight dropping almost instantly. The darkness pierced over her shoulder, the rush of wind deftly following and she was almost knocked off her feet. Her heart pounded from the close call, but it was nothing more than an adrenaline inducer.

Cecillia’s vision was split between the blade buried within the ground and the explosive within the man’s hand. The ominous blinking was worrying, but the light dagger in the grasp of her fingers wouldn’t be able to do much more than simple flesh wounds. Putting on another burst of speed, Cecillia raised the blade to her lips and bit down on the dagger. She sensed another attack incoming and dove for the sword just as the tendril dangerously passed over her head with a cascade of wind.

Cecillia landed on the stone before tumbling into a rough roll. The impact jarred her bones, and her already injured shoulder protested in pain, but she pushed on. The sword was just within her sights, and all it took was another step for the weapon to be held tightly in her hands.

Not a second was wasted before her form was racing towards the man. The weight of the sword felt strange in her hands, but Cecillia attributed it towards her extra points in strength. The fact that it was lighter than even the dagger, maybe it would be explained if they even survived this entire ordeal.

Cecillia felt a claw scratching against the insides of her chest when she looked at the man. Half of his features were illuminated from a flickering torchlight not too far away, but that only enabled her to witness the creature that hung him in such a state.

‘The Entropic Aberration.’

The monster loomed over him, a writhing mass of darkness and tendrils with countless, beady red eyes. Its glowing orbs flickered while it toyed with Doran, but as the bomb continued to pulsate with raw power it no longer regarded Cecillia as a harmless girl. The air around the monster exploded in density and a rough groan escaped through the dagger between her teeth.

Pressing against her shoulders were the very mountains that formed Kaust itself while Doran’s skin grew lifeless. His limp body dangled helplessly, the grip on the bomb slowly weakening as the tendrils rushed towards the explosive. Cecillia watched the darkness coiling around the pulsating device and his hand. The red light was faint, but visible through the Abberation’s flesh and it was slowly moving towards…

‘Shit!’

Cecillia couldn’t afford to hesitate, any second wasted here would result in both the death of the captain and herself. She pushed forward through the pain, her muscles burning with the effort, but it was all ignored. It was nothing compared to what Doran was going through after all.

The Aberration seemed to notice her frail form tottering towards its massive writhing mass and several tendrils snapped towards her, faster this time. Cecillia stepped to the side just as one whistled past her ear, her boots scraped against the stone as she narrowly avoided the strike. Another lashed out, grazing her side, but the brunt of the attack was sent downwards against the captain’s blade. A wince left her lips, and she kept moving.

Doran was right there in front of her, spasming in pain with muffled groans tearing from his throat. A rippling shiver ran down her spine, the once seemingly invincible captain was reduced to such a state, and the cause was now right there, staring directly at her.

[Entropic Abberath - (Level ???)]

Now that she was but a mere ten meters before the creature, the appearance and the pressure itself was on a completely different level than anything she had ever seen and felt before. The Aberration towered over her, a monstrous, otherworldly being that defied all sources of logic and reason. Its writhing mass of coiled, undulated tendrils, where each one was seemingly alive with their own set of consciousness shimmered with a sickly, dark energy.

Its skin, if it could even be called that, was a swirling miasma of pitch black shadow and demonic ichor. Light could not penetrate its features and she wasn’t able to receive an accurate description. Although, what her eyes could not see, could be felt as within that blackened mass, hundreds of glowing eyes blinked in unison. Their forms varied in size and shape, some being oval-like while some were almost as large as a human head. The feeling was cold, and although it wasn’t the most impressive thing Cecillia had seen, the pure primal dread evoked was on an entirely different level. Perhaps the only thing that came close to the feeling was that strange dream she had when she had arrived. Then again, that white haired woman… it was way worse.

Cecillia stared at the monster, her pale face hardening as a bead of sweat rolled down her forehead. It had only taken a single second to capture the Aberration’s terrible features, but it wasn’t enough to comprehend everything.

Cecillia released the dagger from her teeth with a hand to intake a sharp hiss of air. The massive, gaping maw at the center of the Aberration’s torso was a magnificent abyss of pure evil. Rows upon rows of jagged, crystalline teeth lined its ravenous mouth as if they were made out of the shattered rays of the moon. A low guttural sound rumbled from within which effortlessly sent the ticking sound to the background.

Cecillia’s grip tightened on her blades in an effort to soothe the untrained instincts of her sister’s body. Each of the eyes were trained on her, while the tendrils forced Doran’s hand closer towards his own body. She heard a crack and she knew that the man’s bones had collapsed on itself from the force.

Cecillia resisted the urge to turn from the sight and steeled her mind. It wasn’t too late to turn away and escape, but she had already made her choice.

A grimaced grin crept onto her face. She would fight.

With her eyes locked onto the explosive, Cecillia’s form flickered as she lunged forward. Doran’s blade gleamed in the light of the Aberration’s pale, glowing gaze; her blue orbs reflecting a nightmare. Her feet barely graced the ground and adrenaline was pumped through her veins. Cecillia felt her heart slamming against her skeleton, but the bloody battlefield was her asylum. There was no such meaning as having no home, for even in the absence of walls, or a roof, the indomitable human spirit would always find shelter within something so terrible as a vice.

The flickering light of the bomb flashed against her face, casting a wicked glow against her skin. For someone such as her, who lived in an endless, estranged waltz with death…

It wouldn’t be strange to say that she was right at home.

The Aberration screeched, the sound reverberating through the cave as its tendrils whipped towards her. Cecillia dodged to the side, narrowly avoiding one of the appendages, her breath hitching as it slammed into the ground with a deafening crack. Again, another tendril lashed out, aiming for her knees. She leapt into the air, barely clearing the attack when the rush of wind brushed against her skin.

‘Five meters.’

Cecillia’s eyes narrowed, and her form lurched forward. Thankfully the next tentacle to arrive was thin, and with her blades held in a cross the appendage was eviscerated. Dark ichor exploded from the attack, some splattering onto her face and burning her skin. The acrid scent seeped into her nose, but her eyes widened when she noticed something about the creature.

As she moved, some tendrils were shriveled and twitching unnaturally. Corrupted blood dripped from several wounds across its massive form, countless gashes where something had cut deep into its eldritch flesh. It was hard to see, to even comprehend the sight as the edges of the lacerations seemed to flicker like embers still trying to survive in the absence of a flame. Still, Cecillia welcomed the sight. If it was weakened, then her chances were all that much higher.

By now, Doran’s fingers had grown limp, and all that was supporting the bomb in his hands were the countless tendrils wreathing around his limb. The amount of blinks that passed were too quick to even count and only a few seconds remained.

Cecillia slashed in a wide arc, her form twisting while she leapt into the air. The creature’s blood stained her garments black and seared into her flesh. But only another second passed before she had cut through a dozen tentacles and reached the man. Without wasting any time, Cecillia slashed down with her blade, intending to cut through the tendril suspending him in the air.

The sword cleaved through the thick tendrils holding Doran aloft, and for a moment she had thought she had succeeded. The man’s body dropped slightly, only for her to hear another crack as the man’s arm snapped. Still, the Aberration hadn't released the man, rather, more tendrils quickly coiled around his wrist, running along the length of his arm and pulling him back up like a marionette on a string.

Cecillia’s heart sank as she saw the pulsating bomb inching closer towards Doran’s chest. The red light pulsed faster and faster, melting into a single beacon of doom as time itself ticked away like the final beats of a dying heart.

The Aberration released a roar, dark spittle and blood slamming into her and she leapt backwards towards safety. However, the tendrils didn’t shoot for her. Rather they seemed to sense the impending explosion and tightened their hold around the man’s hand, desperately trying to contain the device before it could unleash its destruction.

Scowling, Cecillia ripped out what remained of the energy within her body, and Doran’s blade slammed into the coiling tendrils. If only she could free the man, for just a single second, she could pull him towards safety. She sliced through the first thick tendril, her dagger following suit with a backhanded tearing slash. However, as fast as she cut, more of the writhing appendages surged forward.

The seconds melted into painful minutes of failure and her back was frozen over with frost. Her movements slowed, her stamina ebbing away as she stood within the winter of defeat. The icy claw of despair gripped her heart, threatening to shatter all that remained—

Until suddenly, a raspy, broken voice reached her ears like a crepuscular ray of light.

“Cut… my arm.”

Cecillia heard his voice, and not even a millisecond was wasted because that was all she needed to understand. A weak groan escaped Doran's lips when Cecillia plunged her dagger deep into the man’s elbow joint. She pulled down and through, hitting bone; then with a flickering flash of steel, Doran’s blade whispered a ballad of bloodthirst and crimson was introduced into the world.

The man’s body convulsed slightly and his form was whipped to the ground. His arm fell limp, severed cleanly with surgical precision, and the bomb—along with his detached forearm tumbled with the momentum towards the Aberration.

For a brief, fleeting moment, Cecillia allowed herself a faint smile. Her eyes traced the freely moving explosive, hurtling towards the monstrous eldritch being that had caused so much pain. Yet, she had been far too slow.

The Aberration’s myriad of red eyes blinked in frenzied unison, reflecting the hellish light of the bomb. Each tick fell heavily like the crescendos of an harmonious melody—a piece titled Lament. Time stretched, the seconds slowing to an agonizing crawl and the chorus of a deafening silence followed.

Cecillia’s world was engulfed in white, the explosion erupting, consuming everything in its path. A soundless scream echoed in her mind, the sound unable to escape through her lips. The blinding light turned into darkness, but just before the detonation could annihilate her entire existence; the last thing she felt was a tight grasp, pulling her into an embrace.