Hollow

Chapter 4: Horrors of the Reach

A jolt of pain wracks through Llwell's hand all the way up his arm and he collapses, holding the limb and stares at it as the black corruption crawls a bit further up his forearm. He doesn't even need to look up to see as Dumaine kneels in front of him and holds him steady by his shoulders.

"Not too much farther now. Trust me, once we get out of here, it will hurt less," he says, continuously glancing around to make sure nothing gets the jump on them.

Llwell grunts and pushes himself to sit up, still holding his wrist. "How bad is this going to get?"

Dumaine shrugs with a sigh. "Hard to say. The technicalities of the Siphon are a bit too extensive to go into right now, but just know that once you use it to kill the Jeal, that will make the pain go away. But right now, we must keep moving."

Llwell sighs as well and he nods, dreading how long they have been aimlessly walking through the vile halls of this twisted place with no indicator to tell them where to go aside from intense pain to let them know that they might be on the right path.

"The void is calling, crushing, claiming you as its own but you resist. You fight it, you are stronger than it. Not because it forces you to be but because you are scared of weakness. Of weary, wistful, wailing cries at night. The absence of comfort leaves space for anger. Use that anger. It is stronger than your pain," the voice makes Llwell gasp and jump to his feet and Dumaine just smiles and stands up, turning around to face the boy. Etho.

Dumaine smiles. "Ah, there you are. I was wondering if you would show up."

Llwell looks from Dumaine to Etho. "Wait, how are you here? You weren't hit with the spell like we were," he asks.

The boy shakily glances between him and Dumaine, saying nothing but looking slightly more timid than before but he relaxes a bit when the mage nods once. "It's alright, Etho. It's better for him to know sooner rather than later. Best to rip off the bandage now," he says and turns around to see the confusion on Llwell's face.

"Etho here is a shade. He entered your mind just as the Jeal did," he states.

Llwell's eyes widen a bit and he stares at the boy. "He's a horror?"

"NO!" Etho shouts and takes a step towards him, but he stops and lowers his head, shielding his face behind his hat. "The dark is cold, empty, unwelcoming. Banging against the wooden door, scraping, scratching, clawing for freedom but it never comes, not from the door. The chair, ceiling, the shadows inviting. They want to play so I indulge them. But not as I was, as I am now. They couldn't hurt me. Only I could. I needed help, and only they came. They helped," he says, his voice weakly shuddering and he clenches his fists and lifts his head again to look at the elf.

"I am not them. Demons, death's waking will, wishing to bring harm to give itself power. I want to help. You, not them. Deep down, you do too. I feel it. I feel you," he takes a deep breath to calm himself.

Dumaine places his hand on the boy's shoulder. "Easy, kid. Now, if you came here to help, then am I right to assume you already found the horror?" he asks.

Llwell watches in silence, uncertainty fills him as he tries to understand what's going on. He knows very little about horrors and shades, but he does know that there is some kind of difference between the two. Something in the way they are created, or is it what they are created from? He's not sure, but if Dumaine thinks this boy is safe, he'll play along. Etho did ease his pain after all, so maybe there is some truth to it. As an elf, he's certainly not one to look down on someone for being different.

Etho shakily nods and points down a shadowed hall. "Jeal lays in wait, watching, wanting you to arrive but I can feel it. The horror is scared of you, Hollow, that's why it wants you dead. Warring enemies wish to have the weapon that would let them win. You are that weapon. It wants to take it before you can use it. Envious of your power, scared of it like you are but you don't have to be. You're stronger than it," he says and faces them again, still with the brim of his hat covering his face.