Elegy For An Epilogue

Stirred awake by the gentle rushing and bubbling of a nearby stream, Cecillia just barely raised her bleary eyelids. She gasped for air, and a burning fire ignited within her lungs. It hurt to breathe. A cough left her lips, and the scent of her fraying breath smelled of blood. At first, since she didn’t seem to be injured anywhere, Cecillia tried to move. But immediately after, pain filled every ounce of her body and she mustered a hollow groan.

“Don’t move.”

The voice filtered into her mind and she reflexively stiffened. Yet her instincts only made the pain worse. Cecillia’s vision swam, washed in a blinding river of white while her consciousness struggled to avoid being swept away into the darkness.

“…Didn’t I tell you not to move?”

Latching onto the sentence, Cecillia recognized the intonation to be Doran and she just barely avoided blacking out. Thoughts floated around in her mind, the last frames of what had happened replaying in a loop. Still, it was hard to make anything sensible out of the jumbled mess of scattered scenes.

Sword… Monster… B-bomb—

“Open your mouth.”

The sudden voice brought Cecillia out of her head and she caught a blurred motion at the edge of her vision. There was a faint outline of a bottle of some sorts and for some reason she found herself complying. Cecilia cracked her lips open and not a second passed before a chilling liquid dribbled into her mouth. Immediately, a soothing vitality surged through her being, the screaming weakness in her limbs fading into a dull groan. The fire in her lungs was extinguished and a desperate plunge of air was sucked into her body.

Cecillia sputtered, gasping for several more lungfuls of air while the man thankfully remained silent. The only sounds she heard from him were a subtle shuffle of movement, and the tinkling of glass against stone.

It wasn't long before her vision started to finally clear. The open space above her head was exceedingly high, and pale crystalline lights scattered across the ceiling. Beneath her, the ground felt cold, soft in some places and hard as if it were made of dirt and stone. Cecillia shifted her gaze slightly to Doran hovering over her. It seemed that he had recovered his sword as well. Their eyes met, and even if they were as unreadable as ever, they didn’t seem to be their usual level of solidity.

“Take it easy and rest,” Doran said, his head tilting upwards. “We’re safe… for now.”

Cecillia stared at the man and an awkward moment passed. She knew that he had sustained several injuries, far more severe than the undiagnosed pain coursing through her very own veins. Eyeing his severed arm, she ought to have said something, but it didn’t seem right to mention. Wordlessly, she tilted her neck back into its neutral position and allowed her eyelids to fall back over themselves.

The only source of sound was the trickling of the cavern’s cave and what seemed to be the flipping of pages. Doran’s presence melted into the background while an icy draft of a whisper blew past her. Cecillia shivered. For once since arriving in this new world, she felt cold. Her hands silently wrapped around her own trembling shoulders; by now, the bitter frigidness had seeped into her bones, rendering the aching numb.

It wasn’t so hard for her to assume what had happened, but it wouldn’t hurt to make sure. Her blue orbs were revealed, tinged with a flicker of white and her lips shaped a whisper.

“We’re under Kaust…”

A raspy cough followed, and her gaze snapped to the man. Doran wore a smile on his face, but his hardened eyes were resting downcast, just as they were a minute ago. Cecillia frowned, noting his battered body, scored in burns from head to toe. Patches of his cloak, and even armor had been torn to shreds, revealing sickly mottled skin. Dark veins spread across his naked chest, flowing out from a core of darkness; the origin of impalement, before they shot upwards to cinch around his neck.

His breathing was labored and an image surged through Cecillia’s mind. The scored wounds trickled blood from his flesh, the infection coursing through his limbs.

Wasn’t it something she had seen before?

A wave of nausea washed over her, but a ding was suddenly emitted and a screen appeared before her eyes.

[Shadowbane Corruption]

Her breath created frost when she allowed herself a relieved exhale. It only took another moment to realize that this was something new, though her brows furrowed… What if it was worse?

Doran seemed to notice her concerned glance, his eyes narrowing when they lifted from a notebook, simultaneously shifting his torso away. Blood dripped from his cleanly cut forearm, seeping into the papers of the book until the pages snapped shut with a pronounced thwack.

“Why?”

His voice echoed, the single word reverberating through Cecillia’s skull. Why? A word that could mean many things, a question, or a statement, but both of them already knew what he meant.

“...I don’t break promises.”

Doran’s hazy eyes dimmed, and a hollow sigh left his lips. Cecillia ignored the cold penetrating through her flesh and she only stared vacantly into the cavern’s wall. While staring past his figure, there was a little glass vial with only droplets left of a deep, crimson liquid. It must’ve been what he had poured into her mouth earlier, evidently some sort of elixir or potion. Her gaze pondered over the glass for several seconds until with decent pain, she raised her body.

After all, it was her turn to ask.

“Why?“

Her question seemed to amuse Doran, and he almost was mocking himself with the way his head turned down to the glass vial. To Cecillia, the situation was clear, but she couldn’t accept it just like that. Otherwise, she would just be like all those other sinners.

"Drink one,” Cecillia continued. She gestured to the vial with a hand and her identification skill was used.

[Lesser Grade Health Potion]

Doran grimaced, but didn’t reply with words. Rather he shuffled a leg to the side, and Cecillia saw two more empty bottles that were once hidden by his calf. Cecillia frowned in frustration, her gaze running over the man’s wounds helplessly. Based on the dull, splintering pain within her own body when it should’ve been excruciating, it was apparent that the man had used up all the vials on her.

“Why,” she repeated.

Doran simply shrugged and Cecillia raised a brow, it wasn’t like him to make such a movement.

“My body isn’t as weak as yours,” he replied bluntly.

The strain in his voice, and the pain his body tried to hide away was as clear as day. There was no use arguing against her, not when she had seen countless injuries. First hand within others, and even inflicted upon herself. And she knew that whatever that Shadowbane of Corruption was, it was akin to poison.

“Don’t lie to me,” Cecillia said coldly, her eyes narrowing into a squint. “You’re not very convincing.”

“In what regard?” Doran said calmly. “There’s things out there far more dangerous than an Aberration.”

Cecillia’s eyes flashed with irritation. The same feeling that welled up within her when she had just started working in the kitchen was prevalent. Laen’s face appeared in the front of her mind. She couldn’t bear the thought of his final pleading words. No child should deserve to live like that. Alone lost, just as she once was.

“Don’t you care about your son? He’ll never forgive you.”

Doran’s expression froze, hardening into a cluster of anger. His usual calmness began to slip away. His eyes darkened, his jaw clenching but he didn’t immediately reply.

“He’s not my son,” Doran finally muttered. “He’ll be better off without me anyways.”

Cecillia was taken aback. Her pupils widened and a lapse of understanding filtered into her mind. Everytime she said something about Laen to the man, his reaction would be strange, almost as if he was repulsed by the bare mention. Now it was so clear. But still, when was it that she had taken things at face value.

“Doesn’t matter,” Cecillia shook her head. “He’s still your son, whether you like it or not.”

Doran’s eyes flared with crimson and a weak pressure was released from his being. Though, it was still strong enough for Cecillia to stiffen.

“Girl. Who are you to decide what he means to me,” Doran growled. “Just because I allow him to follow me around, doesn’t make me anything significant.”

“I promised him.”

“And that was your mistake,” he said flatly before he turned towards the stream. “Your second mistake was assuming that I am a dead man.”

Doran promptly stood. The movement poured out another burst of blood from his wounds. He was otherwise silent except for a stifled groan, but he started walking along the water’s path. Cecillia scowled, but she followed the man anyways. It was already a lot to ask for in their current situation, but based on their current resources, they had to move. If they didn’t, their stamina would continue to fall until death was inevitable.

Cceillia’s mouth was dry while she paced after Doran’s steps. He didn’t once look back, only pausing to crack one of his joints. A bitter feeling coursed through her veins, but she was unable to say anything. It wasn’t likely that she had been wrong about Doran’s injuries, but it seemed that her intuition had failed.

She remained quiet as she followed the man. Her steps were carefully placed to avoid the trail of blood leaking behind Doran. But after an hour of walking alongside the stream, Cecillia noticed that he started to slow. Her injuries were obvious, but at least she was able to bite through the pain and maintain their pace. With his level, something was definitely wrong.

“Doran,” she called out.

However, the man didn’t reply and only continued to walk. It was as if her words floated past his deafened ears like an inaudible whisper. Cecillia pursed her lips and quickly caught up to the man. She glanced up at his face, but his sunken eyes made it seem that he was on the brink of going insane.

“Hey,” Cecillia grabbed his arm. “Doran, stop moving.”

Yet the man only continued, dragging her along with his quickly going pale body. Cecillia bared her teeth and released a low curse before she swept a leg in front of the man’s feet. Doran didn’t react, and he started to fall until Cecillia caught him. Groaning, she placed him on the ground, flipping him onto his back before laying him against a stalactite jutting upwards from the ground.

Heavy breaths left her mouth from the exertion. This couldn’t be happening, not now.

She placed a hand on his forehead, and when she pulled back, it came back slick and warm. Quickly scrambling over to the stream, she ignored the cold and pulled what remained of her shirt over her head. The stale, brittle air of the cavern slammed against her naked skin and she shivered. Still, it was nothing compared to the bare thought of breaking her promise.

Cecillia dipped the cloth into the water, running her hand through to wipe off the blood before carrying it back over to Doran. She laid the makeshift bandage over his face and a weakening moan escaped his lips. Her eyes scanned his body once more before she suddenly pulled his trousers off. When they exposed his flesh, his notebook tumbled onto the floor.

“Motherfucker,” she muttered under her breath. Cecillia tried to keep her frustration in check, but just seeing the man’s face filled her with spite. All those harsh words he had said… what even was the purpose? Still, Doran’s condition was rapidly deteriorating, and she could see the dark bruising spreading across his legs. The signs of the poison working its way through his system, it was tough to say if it was too late.

Cecillia grabbed the wet cloth from the man’s face, but she quickly found that it had dried up completely. She clicked her tongue before running towards the stream once again. But this time, she tore off her skirt and slacks before plunging all three pieces of clothing into the water. She made sure that they were relatively clear of blood before returning to the man.

“You’re a stupid, stupid man.”

Cecillia frowned at the streams of blood from the pooling into a puddle beneath him from the lacerations in his thighs. She wiped down his skin with a grimace, ignoring the man’s pained moans. The icy water stung her fingers, and she let out a hiss, but it wasn’t about her anymore. It was about keeping him alive.

Once the flow of blood seemed to relatively cease, Cecillia grabbed the man’s sword from his waist and cut her skirt into a bandage-like ribbon. Biting on the cloth, she stretched it out before wrapping it around Doran’s legs tightly as a makeshift tourniquet to stem further bleeding. But as she worked, the darkening veins sent a chill down her spine and she glanced down at the blade at his waist.

“...I’m sorry.”

Unsheathing the silver weapon, Cecillia was ruthless with her administrations of pain. She even stuffed a ball of cloth into Doran’s mouth to ebb the pain, but it didn’t seem to do much as she ripped chunks of darkness out of his flesh. She ignored his unconscious body’s reactions, and only continued with a grim stare.

Thankfully, the surgical and medical knowledge applied to the human anatomy of this world as well, and it wasn’t long until Doran’s condition stabilized. Cecillia exhaled shakily, her hands hurt from the cold, but she still managed to wipe away the sweat that had formed on her brow.

The pungent scent of infection littered the cavern floor, but at least the dark veins that had almost completely covered the man now retreated from the worst of his injuries. Though, now his lips were dry and cracked from the fever, and she surmised that it would help if he had something to drink.

Sighing, she returned to the stream for a third time, looking at her wavering reflection in the water. A delicate finger trailed across her cheek; her face was a mess, her hair even more so. Cecillia knelt down, splashing the liquid onto her skin before cupping a mouthful of water down her throat. The freezing cold water was refreshing for a moment, but after that it started to hurt. Even with her attunement, the cold in the air was nothing to scoff at. The way her breath cast long clouds of condensation before her face, it was an obvious thing to say that the temperature was below freezing. She glanced down at the stream once more, regretting that she had not taken one of the vials with her. Forming a cup with her hands, she brought back another handful of the freezing water to Doran.

Cecillia made sure to be careful when she poured the water against his mouth. Once enough of it had left her hands, she cracked his lips open and the man greedily consumed the liquid. He swallowed soon after, but there were still no signs of waking.

Her heart grew heavy and the exhaustion in her limbs had ran way past its course. The adrenaline that had fueled her against the Aberration was nowhere to be seen, and now, the aftermath was affecting her in its full.

Cecillia collapsed to the ground, her teeth chattering from the chilly underground air. Back when she had just started her training within the military, everyone was required to participate in a wilderness survival course that involved camping outside in the middle of a frozen mountainside in the deep winters. Of course, it had been like hell, but that didn’t come close to anything as cold as this.

She brought her knees to her chest, arms wrapping around her knees before she buried her head within her bosom. The cold had infiltrated past her internal organs, seeping into and starting to gnaw at her bones. At this point, she would do just short of anything to have her exo-suit.

“Status page,” Cecillia mumbled.

The screen of light emerged before her eyes, but when they landed on her condition, their situation only felt all that more heavy.

Health: 182/600

Mana: -/-

Stamina: 24/800

She blinked, and the system screen disappeared. Looking at the numbers wouldn’t help anyways. After all, she didn’t need a constant reminder of how tired she felt, otherwise she might be tempted to lie down and fall asleep… forever.

Cecillia bit her lip—she raised her head and glanced up at the man—she couldn’t do that at all. Doran’s resting body gently rose with steady breaths, but he seemed to almost resemble a corpse. Even with the full view of his sculpted torso and clean-cut muscles, the vitality that should’ve been there simply wasn’t.

Although, her eyes were drawn towards his neck, moreso the chain wrapped around his nape. The silver twinkled against the luminescence from above and a circular pendant adorned with a single small jewel gleamed. Cecillia looked closer and there was a clasp in the metal, which through that showed a faded piece of paper. She wasn’t quite able to see what it was, but her curiosity took over, and without thinking, she reached out. Her fingers brushed against the cool silver of the pendant and she carefully pried open the pendant.

Slowly, she opened it, revealing a small folded piece of paper tucked inside. Its edges were worn and frayed, the material itself yellowing in color. Cecillia carefully unfolded the delicate paper where she was met with a faded but still striking portrait of a beautiful woman. Her eyes were softly sketched, holding a happiness, and her smile was gentle, forever preserved in a moment of peace.

Whoever the artist was, they were extraordinarily talented, able to capture the flowing hair and delicate features in a sketch such as this. But Cecillia looked further down where at the bottom in elegant, but slightly smudged handwriting, were a short sentence.

I will always love you.

The black ink was long faded, as if a finger had brushed against those words countless times.

“Love…?”

Doran had asked her once what she thought about the word, but she was unable to return an answer, now it would be the same as well. Cecillia looked closer to the portrait, she also remembered how Naira had said that she had once loved Doran. Yet, these were two completely different people. Her gaze rested on the man’s face for a moment before she slipped the sketch back into the pendant before closing it with a click. There were more pressing matters at hand that were way more important than a concept she couldn’t yet understand. Cecillia grabbed the man's notebook and placed it within a fold of one of the bandages. She had rested long enough.

Pushing herself to her feet, Cecillia struggled to hoist the massive man over her shoulder. The extra stats of strength should’ve made it easy, but with the amount of stamina she had remaining, such a task was multiplied in difficulty. But once he was settled against her back, the warmth from the skin to skin contact was more valuable than anything.

Cecillia made sure to pick up the lightweight blade before once again following the water downstream. But with every step, it only grew harder. Every muscle cried out in protest, but Cecillia forced herself to focus, just one foot in front of the other.

Doran who was slumped against her back stirred occasionally, his shallow and uneven breaths hot against her ear. Although, everytime he shifted Cecillia would wince, feeling his weight dragging down upon her exhausted body. Her legs had already started to wobble, but the burning sensation gradually grew dull when the minutes flowed past.

An hour soon passed, and Cecillia stopped thinking. Like a robot with a single assigned task, she mechanically marched forward. It had been a while since she felt Doran move, but the cold had probably made him fall asleep.

Eventually, Cecillia was forced to stop for a moment’s respite. She laid Doran on the ground before releasing several coughs. Her entire body felt heavy, but she couldn’t rest a second longer. Coughing once more, she was back on her feet.

At times, she even felt her mind slipping away. But as she continued, the sound of the water flowing served as the only anchor that kept her grounded. The air slowly became heavier, and the tunnel narrowed as jagged rocks jutted into her path from the walls. The amount of space she had to walk slowly shrank, but with no other way to go, she was forced to wade into the stream.

Cecillia didn’t bother to remove her boots, the exertion simply wasn’t worth it. But the shoes offered no protection against the cold as the stream rushed at her ankles.

‘Cold…’

Other than the constant blinking, her face was emotionless, like a blank slate. Her body had long since been numb to the pain, and her mind was in a constant state of delirium. There was nothing to think about, not when the precious energy had to be spent escaping this place alive.

Her stomach growled, and she glanced down. There was nothing she could do about that now. They had no food, and her last meal was but a distant memory. The water lapping at her feet had grown warm a long while ago too. A strange feeling in the back of her mind told her that wasn’t right. But at least they had water.

Suddenly, the stream dipped sharply, and Cecillia faltered, nearly slipping when the ground gave beneath her. She struggled to summon the strength to hold onto the man, but somehow, they didn’t come crashing down. Pressing forward, she raised her head when a soft, pale glow shone at the edges of her vision. Hope rekindled in her chest, and her limbs were reinvigorated with strength.

An exit couldn’t be far.

Cecillia hurried through the water and soon she stepped out of the water. Her boots squelched against the rocky floor, but her legs trembled when impacted with the frigid air. The water stuck to her naked skin, but it would be far worse if she were wearing drenched clothes.

Ahead of her, a small tunnel loomed and at the end, a light shone brightly. There was a faint breeze, something she hadn’t felt for a long while, but it lifted her spirits considerably.

“Doran… we made it,” she let out a shaky laugh.

However, there was naught a reply. Cecillia didn’t even hear his breaths and her blood ran cold. Immediately, she dropped the man and set him against the wall as the sword clattered to the ground. Kneeling before him, she frantically checked for a pulse, her fingers trembling when they pressed against his neck. There was nothing felt.

“Doran,” she whispered. “You have to wake up!”

Cecillia shook his body, slapping a hand across his face. But the impact was weak, and her hand soon fell to his chest. She couldn’t go on, not when they were this close, abandoning him couldn’t be an option.

She slapped him again, and again, but no matter what she did, the man refused to wake up. Soon, her hands balled into fists which fell uselessly against his chest.

‘I failed.’ she thought of Laen. The boy who had entrusted everything to her and whom she had made a promise with. ‘...I’m sor—’

In the pits of her despair, she hadn’t noticed the two emerald eyes staring at her pale face. Only once Doran had wrapped a hand around her wrist, did she cease to drown in her thoughts.

He gave her a soulless smile, “This is why you don’t make promises that you can’t keep.”

Cecillia glared at the man, yet no words left her lips. Instead, she yanked her wrist free while her blue orbs blazed with icy fire.

“Sorry,” Doran’s smile faded. “There’s just someone that you reminded me of.”

Cecillia’s gaze dropped to the man’s pendant, could he be referring to her? Well, a scowl formed on her lips, that wasn’t important.

“You’re dying.”

Doran shook his head. “It’s not that simple. I’m already dead.”

“How?” Cecillia’s expression hardened, “How can you be so sure? You’re breathing, we still have time to escape. Why do you have to say something like that?”

Doran sighed bitterly and glanced down at his chest. He raised a hand, hovering it over where he had been impaled.

“The Shadowbane Corruption is akin to a parasitic disease,” he said. “It will constantly drain me of my mana, and when there is none left, what do you think it’ll go after next?”

Cecillia’s mouth opened slightly, she already knew the answer too.

“Your life.”

“Exactly,” Doran grinned. He then glanced down at his blade. “And even if you did cut out the more potent parts, this kind of corruption cannot be cured.”

“Why? Cecillia frowned. “Can’t a healer help you? We just have to get out of here.”

“Like I said, it’s not that simple.”

She glared at him and felt irritation rising once again.

“Then what? What do we do now? Do I have to leave you here to die alone? Is that what you want? Do you think Laen wants that?”

“I’d rather call it a compromise,” Doran started to take his necklace off. “But yes, that is exactly what you will have to do.”