Hollow

Chapter 13: Rivalry

"...and that, my dear Gwynnestri, is why I'm fairly certain the noble chevalier of Atedin is still very adamant about the warrant for my arrest, but only in one small district of the kingdom. So, overall, I'd say I won that game of Arsonist Tag. True story. I don't recommend—Tathlani?"

Llwell groans as he opens his eyes just as Dumaine appears above his line of sight with a cautious gaze.

"Not dead?" the mage says and tilts his head. "Not dead! I've only been waiting for about two hours. But it's alright, I suppose. I think I've really built up some camaraderie with Gwyn here. I never knew perytons could be such good conversationalists—"

The elf waves him off and sits up, frantically scanning his surroundings until he sees Etho still laying on the ground beside him. He's tossing his head back and forth, letting out occasional whimpers of pain.

Llwell jumps up and kneels at the boy's side, holding his hands over the wound on his stomach. Etho unconsciously grips his wrists only to immediately let go as he thrashes some more.

"Etho? Etho, can you hear me?" he asks frantically, his hands are still slightly shaking.

The boy grits his teeth and tosses his head to the side with a whine, but he says nothing and just continues to breathe heavily.

Dumaine kneels on Etho's other side and holds his shoulder. "What happened?" he snaps his attention onto the elf. "What did that thing do to him?" he demands.

"It pulled us into his mind. When I tried to trick the Entice out of its deal, it attacked us and Etho got hurt protecting me," Llwell explains without taking his eyes off the panting boy. The mage brushes his hands off of Etho's stomach and he examines the wound.

"He's... bleeding," he says somewhat absently.

Llwell stares at him in question. "Is that not normal?"

Dumaine places his hands on Etho's stomach instead. "No, not at all. I've seen him get hurt before, but I've never seen him bleed. Not even that sticky black stuff that the horrors excrete. Could it be the forest's doing?" he asks.

The elf sighs with a tense shrug. "I honestly have no idea. The fact that a shade attacked us in The Living Forest is making me question what is and isn't true about the magic of this place. But that isn't important right now."

Dumaine nods sharply. "You're right. Etho needs help."

"Do you know any healing magic?" Llwell asks and the mage woefully shakes his head.

"Nothing that would work on a shade. I've tried it on him before and the spells had no reaction to him. I'm certain there're probably a number of magisters in Tessiavar who specialize in healing shades for spirit binding purposes but we can't exactly stroll right into the Obsidian Empire on a whim. Besides, even if we could, that would take too long. This injury looks... bad," Dumaine says and gently holds Etho's head still by the back of his neck.

Llwell stares at the boy and purses his lips, panic spreading through his heart as the gravity of the situation becomes evident. He doesn't even know what danger Etho is actually in since he's a shade and shades can technically only be killed by the Siphon, but even with that in mind, the worst case scenario is Etho losing his human form. That's enough motivation to set doubts aside on what to do, as he realizes there's really only one good option. Well, maybe not 'good,' but it's definitely an option that it seems he has no choice but to take.

With a sigh, he looks to Dumaine. "Can you carry him while I lead the way?" the elf asks.

The mage eyes him curiously. "Where are we going?" he asks but proceeds to scoop Etho into his arms, carefully lifting him off the ground. The action seemed to take such little effort that Llwell briefly wonders if it's because of the boy's light weight, or how strong Dumaine is.