Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ When I Faltered ❯ Chapter 2 ( Chapter 2 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

 

 

A/N: Thank you for reading this despite me revising the first half of the story; I am not the best author. Now that chapter 2 and 3 are revised, I am working now on chapters 4 and 5 while writing chapter 10, hopefully I can get them out quickly and get this story back on a proper track. Thank you for bearing with me.

 

Removing her torn and blood stained garments with trembling fingers, Hilda’s hand stopped at her arm to see fresh, jagged scarring on the underside of her upper arm.

 

This was surely the work of a curative spell, the speedy recovery aided in sealing wounds, saving lives, and eliminating pain to a certain degree depending on the level casted and the severity of the injury, however due to the quick nature of healing, it always left hastily-made scars in its wake. Natural, biological healing was necessary if one wanted to minimize any physical marring on their person however anytime a “Cure” was needed for physical damages, it was usually in cases such as hers, leaving the patient with no complaints.

 

The new scars mattered not. She looked into her dressing mirror, all color drained from her face, even her lips, half naked.

 

What was she to do?

 

She wasn’t sure how long she had been in her tiny room, as she had merely sat in a chair and stared at her door in fear, wondering if one of those faceless men would enter, or worse, the pretty one with the sickeningly sweet smile, announcing that her fate had been decided. She wasn’t a little fool, even she understood that killing her would be the most logical option. Ransom would be her first conclusion if the would-be leader was so inclined but without a doubt she was most sure that money was not of interest to the man. Just as he had observed and remarked on her attire, she too could recognize that his vestiges were sumptuous and well-made in turn, the fabric and highly detailed plating of his mantle something procured only by the elite.

 

The way he had removed her hand from his person when she had reached for him led her to believe that he was in no way interested in retaining her for sexual gratification. Nor could she aid his little band of men in any magical capacity.

 

Looking down at the mess of her gown is what prompted her to get up to change; her hair is disarray much like her nerves. Once changed, there was a slight knock at the door which caused her to jump in fright; her body stilling after in anticipation, sure that someone would enter. After several slow, nail biting minutes passed and her door remained shut, she inched over to it, slowly resting her face against the smoothened wood, listening for any sound from the other side.

 

All that met her ear was silence.

 

Whispering harsh words to herself for her cowardice, she cracked the door open, willing her posture into something ladylike and refined. What met her eyes was an empty hallway. She poked her head out, peering down both directions, not a person in sight. Something reflected against the light coming from her room; as it was now dark, and she looked down to see a polished tray with simple fare piled on it. She reached down to take the offering of what she assumed was her serving of the evening meal, slipping back into her room after looking about once more to verify she was indeed alone.

 

Placing the tray on her desk, she sat dazed, looking to the bread, cheese, fruit, and what was obviously Cid’s favorite wine, wondering how she was supposed to muster any form of appetite in order to consume what was before her.

 

They were obviously making themselves at home, clearly already helping themselves to this ships’ larder. She began picking through the spread, everything she consumed settling like heavy stones within her stomach, her thoughts enabling her to even recall the taste of the meal. Chewing slowly, she quickly eliminated all thoughts of escape while still airborne, thinking of her poor men as their bodies had been set alight and tossed asunder in quick momentum, making her in turn wonder about the capabilities of what appeared to be a white mage as their leader.

 

What a strange arrangement, that. Surely he could not master black elementals as they had; he had used a restorative spell on her! Only whispers of black magic had remained on the Mist Continent, researchers and mages alike unsure if the craft had ever truly existed or if it had died in time, the only remnants being dusty faded books, accounts that could not be verified for either truth or fiction. But she had witnessed it first-hand today. And she would be unwise to eliminate the possibility that perhaps one could control both sides of the spectrum after what she had been through.

 

It was enough to make her worry that perhaps she had mentally short circuited.

 

And later, she lay silent in her bed, the only noise being the hum of the turbines beneath her. She could not sleep, staring up at the ceiling, wondering where it was they were travelling to. After much deliberation, she willed her body up and out of the room, down the dimly lit hallway in her dressing robes, up the small steps and out into the night air, almost gasping with it, the cold air hitting her like a shock wave, the sudden chill clearing her head and stilling her piling thoughts. She grasped onto the rails of the side of the ship, hanging her head over, allowing the whipping wind to catch her hair, soaking in the sensation to drown out the fear that had been accumulating within her the last several hours.

 

Taking large gulps of breath, she could hear several feet shuffle in the background, shuddering at the thought of the strange men still moving about, wondering on how much longer she had before she needed to turn back lest she be discovered. Her body soon followed her head, becoming cold in turn and she raised her head, still in the shadows of the side of the ship.

 

“Are you thinking of escaping?”

 

She jumped at the query, her head whipping to the man merely three feet from her, his arms tossed carelessly over the railing much like her own, looking not at her, but to the night. When had he come upon her? How long had he been there?

 

There were no moons to be seen due to the overcast but she could still see the outline of his face and the billowing of his sleeves.

 

At her silence, he turned to her then, the small movement prompting her for an answer.

 

“Of course not,” she answered naturally, irritation unmasked in her response. She placed her head back on the railing, resting her cheek and closing her eyes. The atmosphere didn’t feel threatening at the moment and she was becoming so very tired.

 

She could hear the smile in his voice, “Your husband then?” Her eyes opened, raising herself to look at what she could see of him, her dressing robe whipping about her legs. She heard movement once more and looked behind her toward the light spilling from the hallway over yonder.

 

“Never mind them. They’re far too invested in their tasks to ever pay you any mind.” His head rested in one of his hands, the elbow propped on the railing, looking at her thoughtfully.

 

“Does that mean I am free to walk aboard or am I to remain confined?” Her fists were clenched as she turned back to him; her eyes narrowed despite their obvious tiredness, a slim calve peeping out here and there from her robes with the wind. She was a regal little thing, he thought, not disliking the view. He had expected her to cower in tears, beg him to spare her, and other such nonsense one of her ilk were predisposed to doing, yet she had done nothing of the sort. There was still time for that, however. He wouldn’t put it past nobility to show a burst of bravado before succumbing to their fears.

 

“You’re most welcome to peruse the ship comfortably, my lady, all but my rooms, of course.” She didn’t doubt that this man would take nothing but the best given his taste in livery, sure that the master cabin was now in residence.

 

“And our destination?”

 

“The Kiera Desert.”

 

She blinked, her mind coming up blank as she failed to recognize the location he had given.

 

“I have never heard of such a place.”

 

“No, I’m sure you haven’t, “he sounded bored. “It’s on the Outer Continent, I’m afraid. We still have a few days aboard before we alight.”

 

He was expecting admonishment or disbelief but was rather surprised to watch her tired eyes widen, her voice curious and almost childlike.

 

“Truly?”

 

As if remembering her place, she schooled her features into refinement once more, a hand absently petting her hair down to tame the somewhat short locks.

 

“Whatever for?”

 

He didn’t need to consider an answer, still unsure himself as to what to do with her, keeping all information brief and miniscule until it suited him otherwise.

 

“Research. You will remain a guest, for now.” There was a small warning in his response despite his civil tone. She heard the finality in his answer and decided it was time to return to her room. With a small inclination of her head, she locked her eyes on his.

 

She was afraid of him. But she would never allow herself to be a pitiful, weeping thing at his mercies. She would rather rot.

 

“I see. Then if you would excuse me, sir, it is rather late.”

 

Ever the lady, she waited for him to respond in turn and she wasn’t disappointed. With a beautiful bow, he bid her goodnight, watching as she left, amusement tickling his curiosity.

 

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

 

 

 

Despite the freedom allowed to her upon the ship, there wasn’t much to do in ways of occupying her time. The little men that roamed the ship were ever silent and gave her nothing more than a passing glance if she happened upon a room they were in. They scuttled about their business, ten in all she counted, monitoring the navigation controls, making hearty sandwiches with thick slices of bread, and cleaning the deck for all remains of the ships previous occupants.

 

She didn’t see much of the man that appeared to be in control and when she did chance upon a whisper of silver in the distance, she made to turn in the opposite direction, not necessarily inclined to engage in any form of fake civility, her worry growing but still manageable as she understood too little about the Outer Continent, much less this Kiera Desert to formulate a proper plan on what she was to do once she got there.

 

Four and a half days of journey from her initial kidnapping, she sat in her room, her fingers twitching and burning from a sad little practice session of long disused magery, when she felt the ship begin to descend, the change in elevation swift but steady, a small panic itching in her stomach at the realization that they must be here.

 

She looked about her room before making to pack her two trunks, unsure if they were to follow her, unsure if she would even be allowed to live long enough to make it off the dock itself. Her captor had still not specified if he had indeed found a “purpose” for her, and she dreaded to think that perhaps if he had, would it be worse than being killed instead? Swallowing down her emotions, she stilled her hands to make quick work of her little task, smoothing out the wrinkles in her dress as she finished, reaching for her door. She had felt the ship settle several minutes ago and knew there was no point in waiting about in her cabin. She straightened her posture as she often did and made out into the hallway, walking briskly as if she were in the corridors of the Grand Castle itself.

 

She could see the silvery mage below the ship, watching as his men came down with food, caskets of wine, and eventually her trunks as well. Walking down without looking for permission, she suddenly grabbed the rail of rope to steady herself, looking aloft to see the opening of the cavern they were in, hot gusty wind blowing, creating a whistle about the rocky walls. In the distance she could see sand dunes and she couldn’t help but pause, her ever curious nature taking hold of her and she marveled at the sight, wishing to take a closer look but understanding that such an action might be considered as an attempt to escape, not wanting to see what the “no-faces” or so-called “healer” might have in store for her.

 

With one last glance, she turned about and continued down the planked walkway, her travelling boots kicking from under her skirts as she looked up to meet the taller man’s eyes just as she alighted.

 

“I see we have arrived, sir.” She looked about the cavern before turning back to him.

 

“That we have,” he replied, turning smoothly and flicking his fingers at her to follow.

 

They stopped before a glowing sigil on the floor, the light pulsing the closer they got. Her eyes widened once more and she looked up to see him smiling in amusement at her obvious wonder. She didn’t bother to hide her expression, her eyes imploring for him to explain the thing glowing at their feet.

 

“Teleportation. This will take us into my palace.”

 

“Palace? In a desert?”

 

“Beneath our feet, no less.”

 

“Beneath the ground?!” She balked at the possibility.

 

She looked again at the blue streaks of light designed upon the floor, the strange little occurrences happening about her increasing every day.

 

“I’ve never seen magic like this,” she almost whispered, slightly dazzled.

 

“Not magic, my lady. Technology.”

 

Their eyes met once more, question after question building upon her tongue but she did not know where to even begin. Before she could even ask her first one, he grabbed her swiftly and pulled the two of them into the center of the ring, her stomach lurching violently. She blinked several times, trying to register the fact that within in instant, she was in an entirely different environment, grasping onto the slightly younger man as a perch despite his efforts of entangling her hand from his arm.

 

Hues of dark dusky purples, gold, and red accents in strange patterns she had never seen in any of the grand kingdoms of the Mist Continent draped and webbed and wove across the stone and glass-prismed architecture, leaving her struck and staring. She was unsure if her mouth hung open as she gaped at the decadence and foreign aesthetics that made up the grand room they were in.

 

This…all of this…was underground?

 

“One of the puppets will show you to your room. I advise you to be cautious in my abode, as not every room is necessarily safe, especially the lower levels.”

 

He was still speaking but she could not hear him as she was still marveling at the room about her, the grandness and large scale of it all breathtaking.

 

“Lady Hilda,” his voice was firm, making her turn back to him, unsure of the importance of what it was he had been saying.

 

“I am to be free to roam this establishment?” she looked about, a small flutter of excitement racing through her despite the circumstances,” but not all facets of this keep are safe. What is the most dangerous then?”

 

Looking at him once more, her body stilled at the chills that suddenly raced up her arms as the man before her smiled, something sadistic hinting at the corners of his mouth.

 

“The most dangerous thing here, my lady, is me.”

 

What he said was not boastful, merely a fact. With a swift gesture, one of the little men appeared before them to lead her to her knew chambers, blue eyes following her as they parted, making her feel exposed and almost as frightened as when they had first met.

 

 

 

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

 

The eerie silence that encompassed herself and her guide was met with more than a little trepidation. She watched him from behind warily as the little man weaved through halls, corridors, and stairs, knowledgeable about their surroundings despite the strange, almost mechanically-inclined way in which he walked. He stopped abruptly in front of a door, causing her to almost crash into him, opening the thing swiftly, staring straight ahead as if she wasn’t even there.

 

Slowly, she stepped into the room, looking about her with as much awe and curiosity as she had the moment she had arrived in this foreign place. Her chambers in Lindblum were very much in décor like all the state rooms within the Grand Castle, polished wood, red draperies, and golden accents, her bed linen and possessions about the room being the only things resembling her personal touch.

 

This room however boasted of a cascade of color and fabrics, the ceiling very much like the interior she had seen so far, dark purple with gold and silver accents in its design, patterns bold yet refined. There was a small little window on the opposite side of the bed of colored paned glass, creating a small prism of colors upon the floor where the sun shone through. The bed was large, enveloping so, canopied with two overlays of fabric in plum and champagne, coverlets stylized almost in a damask manner with pillows to spare in shades of amber and jade.

 

A large carpet took over most of the room, a slightly raised fireplace aloft between the bed and the tiny window. There was an armoire, wardrobe, desk, and her two trunks, waiting for her. She had almost forgotten about the little man at the door, so taken in with the luxury of her “prison” that she jumped when she turned to see him still there.

 

He said nothing, looked to nothing, and merely stood in place, as if waiting for instructions. She thought on this behavior, concluding that if he indeed worked in such a capacity, then he could have only killed her men by his master’s command.  

 

She watched him for several minutes, looking to his chest as it rose and fell, his glowing orbs for eyes blinking every now and then, but still ever silent and unchanging.

 

“Thank you, that will be all,” she tested, watching as his body moved into motion, closing the door behind him as he exited.

 

How very, very strange.

 

They were nothing more than dolls. Very frighteningly powerful dolls.

 

She thought a moment on changing her travelling boots to a more comfortable shoe and about whether her common sense and survival instinct should win out over her itching curiosity. She pondered the idea only momentarily, coaching herself to act the part as the Regent of Lindblum’s Chief Advisor would and countering that she didn’t know how many days she had left to this life and being her first and possibly only time to ever be in the Outer Continent, she should take advantage of this opportunity and make the most of it.

 

She liked to think that had she not married into the Regency, she would have followed suit in her families’ tradition and would have immersed herself in research of ancient civilizations much like her father at the university. How strange that through love and loyalty she had turned to politics, and how very naturally suited to it she had become, much to the surprise and anger of many former sirs whose seats had become empty once she began to learn how to play the game.

 

Curiosity and what resembled recklessness, won out and she made to change her shoes to explore.

 

 

 

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

 

 

 

He only stayed for three nights, having perused the tome he had needed, memorizing the location of the four crystal shards once more, a painstakingly detailed rendering of Alexander etched about the long-fading pages, yellowed and decaying.

 

He had tucked a Dragon Wrist in his sleeves as he settled atop his pet, whispering their destination sweetly to his companion, the serpentine creature growling in affection and acknowledgement, its razor sharp claws retracting slightly as it made to stand, rustling from side to side in anticipation for takeoff.

 

He was unsure about the woman he had let roam about his home, having not wanted to kill her outright lest holding her hostage might prove useful later. Their few interactions aboard the airship had been surprisingly amusing, if not stimulating from the stale silence of the puppets that had accompanied him. She had yet to break down and had he had more time to pay attention to her, he would have indulged in bullying her just a little, his range and ideas of fun a little meaner than most.

 

From the moment they had arrived, he had seen very little of her and what he had had been merely a small acknowledgement in passing of one another as he was busy about his research, her with her “explorations”. She was quick to take to his library and surmised that he would no doubt find her there when he returned.

 

Maybe the puppets would Stop, or forget to feed her, or she would fall from a staircase and the lady would be no more. He cared little either way, looking ahead as the dragon leapt in a great gust of wind, it’s wings flapping heavily to buffer them further in the air before taking them forward, back to the Mist Continent. His new ship was quite convenient for transporting his mages and such but nothing was faster than a dragon, not on Gaia.

 

Once arriving to Treno, he made directly to King’s Auctioning House, taking the back entrance in, guards and servants alike inclining their heads in acknowledgment as he made quick work up the stairs to the private residence above the business. Entering the bedchambers, the silvery man paused but didn’t even blink, his hand still on the handle of the door as he watched in mild boredom as a young man with brownish hair all but fell out of the bed in startled embarrassment, making fast work of reaching for his crumpled attire, fastidiously dawning on shirt, vest, trousers, and various other accoutrements.

 

Despite the tailoring of his clothing, his hair was in disarray, his face stained red, giving a small inclination of his head in Kuja’s way, stopping momentarily to gape at the beautiful man before remembering himself and escaping quickly before questioned by the silvery intruder. Closing the door behind himself after the young man’s exist, he threw himself lazily into a chair, propping his elbow on the arm, his hand against his cheek.

 

“I didn’t think you went for the studious types,” he mused, looking to the other man still lounging in bed, covers hanging loosely about his hips, a wry grin on his face.

 

“Not necessarily but he was pretty enough,” Cassius King supplied, lifting himself from the bed, naked and without an ounce of body shyness. Older than Kuja by twenty years but still quite handsome and cleverer than a snake, he began to throw on a robe before taking a seat across from the mage, hair slightly grayed at his temples, features sharp but refined, eyes greener than envy.

 

“You’re back earlier than I thought you would be.”

 

Kuja removed the wristlet from his sleeves, placing it on the table and toward the man, “Have Solomon place this in the next show.”

 

 Lord King picked up the piece in immediate delight, recognizing the wristlet for what it was worth instantly. “You always do bring the most interesting things.” He placed the piece down back on the table and appraised his “friend”, noting there were no outwardly changes to his partner, thinking perhaps he should call for wine to discuss the man’s current holdings.

 

As a silent partner of the establishment, almost half of the houses earnings went directly to the younger man across from him, his investments coming in the form of items such as he brought, usually quadrupling their worth in profits, making the two of them very rich men.  To refer to each other as friends was for niceties alone as although they were closer to one another than any other, their relationship was still marred in suspicion of one another.

 

Kuja knew if it gained a hefty enough profit, King would turn on him in any way imaginable and King held no doubt that if he crossed the beauty before him, he would be found dead in the most dreadful of manner. 

 

“That boy didn’t look like he was from around here,” Kuja offered, not really interested in the other man’s current paramour but not immune to light hearted conversation.

 

King’s grin widened, “Astute as always.” Getting up to pour the two a glass of wine, he sat back down, his robe opened at the chest, his body relaxed and warm, “An engineer from Lindblum. He followed his would-be fiancé here on the rumor that she had found another. After confirming that truth for himself, I had no other option but to avail myself to him. To comfort him, of course.”

 

“Of course, “Kuja agreed, sipping at the red liquid smoothly, the taste dry and tart. “And what if he comes back on the morrow with flowers at the gates to court you properly?”

 

King barked out a laugh, amused at the thought,” You might not be too off, he looks the part, does he not? As his first man, and me being me no less, I wouldn’t be too surprised if he did come calling.” The boast was only in half jest, his pride sometimes running away with him.

 

“I doubt it; he’s from Lindblum you said. A droll, buttoned-up sort, that is,” Kuja derided, a delicate finger dancing on the edge of his glass.  

 

“Not necessarily, not since Cid IX. Have you seen those air cabs? Fascinating things! Droll in fashion, Kuja, but ever efficient and imaginative, I’d say. Between those new streamlined ships and that little lady of his, Cid of Lindblum is a force to be reckoned with.”

 

Kuja’s ears perked at the mention of his prisoner, his interest alight. “What would his wife have to do with Lindblum’s so called advancements, as you say?”

 

King looked at him mid-sip, surprise evident in his expression, “Surely you know she’s the Chief Advisor.”

 

Kuja waved a hand lazily at him,” Isn’t that just a title given to make his wife look important to the common folk and gentry?”

 

King drank thoughtfully as he assessed his friend. It had been some time before he had ever had to educate Kuja on anything. He didn’t think there was still a thing the man didn’t know.

 

“Yes, initially. But Cid was still in the beginning stages of technological advancement, an engineer at heart. His wife was left alone, given the title of Chief Advisor at sixteen, with a council of old sods still plagued by past wars and corruption. They beat her down and humiliated her every chance they got. Here comes this little girl spouting young idealistic nonsense to old problems as if they could easily be fixed in a group of men set in their ways and in positions longer than she’s been alive. You could imagine the hazing she received.”

 

“What of it?” Kuja couldn’t help but be interested, the intrigue, albeit old, was always enticing to a man like himself.

 

“Next thing everyone knows, council members begin resigning or quietly disappearing one by one. In less than half a year, Lady Fabool had replaced every seat with a new representative, making an outsider by the name of Horace Artania minister,” King looked to Kuja with one eyebrow raised, a tilt to the curve of his lips, “Now tell me how a girl of barely seventeen scared off all those powerful fools and set the government of a country in her favor?”

 

‘Not by legitimate means,’ Kuja thought to himself, a smile of his own curling about the lower half of his face. He thought then to the little woman back in the Kiera desert, curious now about the foundling. How very interesting, indeed.

 

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

 

It had been two weeks since she had seen her captor, having climbed through ladders and shelving of books upon books upon books, most in languages she couldn’t decipher, maps and illustrations occupying her hungry mind and she marveled at the decadence of knowledge in its many forms. There were several grand halls, five to be exact, an enormous dining room with a massive kitchen tucked in the back. There were grand scale open rooms whose function she knew not but stared in awe of none the less, the colors brilliant, and the designs intricate and artistic in its radiance. The light that beamed through the windows on the higher levels was impressive, the colored glass almost humming and vibrating with the heat, making her giddy. Had she still been a student, she would have been foaming at the mouth to her professors’ embarrassment.

 

Statues of gargoyles and angels alike littered the establishment, circular rooms here and there, some with coffered domes, others with painted ceilings, warriors and demure beauties in blushing brush strokes. Chandeliers dripped down in pearlescent tendrils, red stoned lanterns on stands creating an eerie glow along quiet hallways, all the rooms without windows darker in atmosphere with a somewhat ominous undertone.

 

There were gold railed staircases with lush red carpet and others in hard cold stone with frighteningly sharp spikes to deter the user from using the railing as aid in walking among them, creating a feeling of foreboding. The contrast of these rooms and halls usually determined which ones she chose to explore and those she sensed to avoid.

 

For a fortress located underground, she was surprised by the vast amount of plants about, always in great large ornate pots, some flowering, others lush and spindly.

 

Working her way down further and further, she happened upon a set of rooms neatly aligned with unknown symbols above each one, no handles nor nobs offered to allow access. In mere curiosity, she placed her hand flat against one, thinking nothing of it before the door slid open and upward within the ceiling, her head following the neat little slit as it disappeared like nothing she had ever seen. She could almost taste it on her tongue and recognized instantly what happened, how the door had come open, her magical signature wafting in the draft that blew from the room.

 

How interesting. Even though she had minor magical capabilities, apparently being a mage was enough to gain entry into this room.

 

She was too immersed in her musings to pay attention to her surroundings, too accustomed to being alone and nothing coming of it to hear the low rumbling of an off key growl coming from the darkness of the room. And when her senses came into focus, a sickeningly sweet putrid smell making her cough, it was too late. She could hear the drippings of saliva slide off its fangs as she felt its breath against her neck, all within the course of a second, her body too sluggish to move in its fright as a large reversed scissor like claw came slashing down, sawing flesh and meat, so quickly, taking her breath away, the pain exploding throughout her body in a burst of red until all she saw was black.

 

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

 

He could sense it the minute it happened, the seal on one of the doors of the labs lifting, even before the Valia Pira could alert him. He had only just arrived merely ten minutes prior, making his way to his rooms before a small essence of another’s magical signature raced through him like a tiny shock. It gave him pause, but only for a split second as he moved to action, opting for the teleportation sigils rather than his own two legs, knowing he didn’t have much time.

 

He knew with certainty that his puppets dare not go into the rooms below, calling himself a fool for not knowing that his guest was a mage as well. He didn’t believe her powerful enough to mask it which left him to the conclusion that she was so weak; it had never even crossed his radar, so to speak.

 

Within less than a minute he was within the stoned hall, dull red light pulsing from orbed fixtures along the ceiling, his security speaking in his native tongue to alert him of the monsters’ escape. He didn’t need to track it down however as it stood in the hall, it’s back turned to its creator, a body immersed in heavy fabric sliding slowly off its claws with a thud, crimson liquid dripping from the things appendages as a long tongue peeked out of its wide, razor sharp mouth to lick it clean, clearly savoring the flavor.

 

He stepped forward slowly, making sure to create no sound however with a heavy sniff; the creature knew he was there, turning to him halfway, torn between the prey at his feet or the new toy down the hall. Without hesitation, he obliterated the monster with a tertiary spell, the creature howling in flames as Firaga consumed him with a heat so scorching that only the smell of it remained.

 

He watched the body on the floor, listening to shuddery little breaths like the wings of a caged bird before he made his way over, gingerly turning her around, spotting the injury into her side, blood pooling alarmingly all over her garment, the mess thick and marking the floor. He needed to be quick if he wanted to keep her alive, her chest slowing in its rise and fall. Picking up the small dying thing, he cursed the woman in his arms, his clothes staining with bodily fluid.

 

 

 

A/N: Thank you for reading, I’m hoping despite my revisions and horrible previous chapters that you liked this even just a little bit!