(MalexMale) The Crimson Immortal [Crimson Immortal Series: Book 4]

8: Liar's Secrets

[[TW: Non-Con, mentions of rape, torture]]

After his seizure, the wound on Sei's chest healed at a swift pace. Within a few days, the once oozing wound closed and became a gouged scar--sensitive to the touch like his wrists and neck scars.

Body movement continued to be troublesome and cumbersome. His limbs still contained lingering numbness and made his progress slow. Wanting to keep up with his practice also bared setbacks. With his goal to keep Mysia unaware, he needed to understand her daily schedule. Luckily, Mysia was like most habitual humans. She kept to a strict schedule without much deviation. She'd leave early in the morning, often before Sei woke up, and return late at night. At least, he assumed it was morning and evening hours, as his imprisoned room contained no windows.

It was when she was gone that Sei had ample time to practice his movements. After a few days, accompanied by many grunts and groans, he regained movement in the entirety of his right arm and most of his left. He worked hard, straining his body to exhaustion each time. Any progress he could make was worth it.

By the fourth day, his legs started to twitch, though they still felt like water-soaked logs when he mustered enough energy to try walking. Not only were his legs causing him issues, but his torso was too. At times it seemed his stomach muscles were cooperating with him, then suddenly, they would seize, and he would tumble to the ground, unable to move. Other times, he could move with ease with a few stumbles.

As each day passed, Sei could see the slow progress, and his movement was getting easier.

Sei's new training didn't stop after he let his body rest. While Mysia slept, he would try to gather his magic to break his bindings. It wasn't going very well. The slightest hint of magic set off a bodily response of waves of painful dizziness. Sometimes it got so bad his body became heavy, and he felt like he couldn't breathe. On a good day, the dizziness would only last a few hours, and all he had to do to alleviate it was to force his eyes shut and wait. In the worst bouts, a searing pain, as if a thousand knives were cutting at his insides, would accompany the dizziness. Those instances left him trying to silence his troublesome panting before he passed out while secretly hoping he hadn't disturbed Mysia.

On the few rare instances when Mysia stayed to tend to him, he pretended to be mostly paralyzed. Every so often, he would give her hints that his body was 'healing' by giving her a hand gesture or a slight movement of his head. Not once had he spoken to her while in her presence. He wasn't sure he could. He had tried a few times when alone. His throat constricted each time and he could only let out a cough. The only audible noise he heard came from the groans from hurting himself or the magical backlash from the soul bindings.

Sei wasn't sure if his failure to communicate was due to something physically wrong with his throat or if it was mental. The trauma inflicted upon his mind from his realization of being the Fate Immortal weighed heavily on him. He remembered his screaming--a cry for help that etched a deep scar against the always festering wound in his mind. He'd been living in silent agony for so long that he never thought he could express emotion about his past. When it all became real, the lingering pain he held deep within for centuries was released all over again, proclaiming his sadness all around. He didn't find relief or comfort in its release because his pain became overshadowed by grief. Another one of loss. His new love was silently tortured and ripped from him too soon. It was one tragedy piled atop of another, over and over again, as if a black thread had tied him to the world that he could never sever.

It had been over three weeks since Sei had awoken, but it had felt like years. Alone with his thoughts, Sei only grew more depressed as he struggled to gain control of his body. He had no will to fight his mind and welcomed the darkness to permeate the hateful and vengeful thoughts. They were meant to be the driving force behind getting his body stronger to escape.