Beneath The Surface

Act 35 - Give them a chance to prove you wrong.

Normal text
Thinking
Onomatopoeia

Astaroth's POV
Astaroth groggily opened her eyes, only to be blinded by ceiling lights. This sequence of events was starting to get real tiring. She has been seeing it way too often in recent weeks. Astaroth let out a pathetic groan, prompting a bunch of faces to instantly crowd her view, helpfully blocking out the stinging glare.

"Asta!"

She winced from the collective shouts that nearly deafened her.

"Urgh... Stop shouting."

"I knew I should've tagged along! Then I can mince that bastard up!" Kali growled.

Kaisa looked a little conflicted, probably because her supposed father was this said 'bastard' himself, "Akali..."

Seeing how uncomfortable the rabbit was, Astaroth tried to change the subject, "Can you all back up first? It's stuffy."

Thankfully, the rest obediently pulled away. Unfortunately though, they still stubbornly remained glued to her bed. The once spacious mattress was now thoroughly cramped and overcrowded. Astaroth propped herself up, to which her body immediately howled in protest. After the initial drowsiness had faded away, her brain finally registered the stinging ant bites everywhere. Her body instinctively flinched as she clenched her trembling fists. The fox lady hurriedly touched her forehead. There was a soft glow before the discomfort inexplicably dulled. Replaced by a rush of euphoria that had her fingers tingling. Enough for Astaroth to have a normal conversation without her brain screaming incessantly from the sensory overload.

She peered down at her arms. The new cuts and bruises have added extra layers of ugly white cloth on her skin. She could feel her blood pressure climbing. Astaroth was utterly livid. Not to mention how stuffy it was beneath these thick bandages, that fucker had literally resetted all progress by destroying her hard work! HER HARD WORK!!! If Astaroth was the harbinger of death, then that bastard was the master of disfiguration! Or simply put, a bitch! How was he any different from her?!

The warmth in her pocket intensified, serving as a reminder for Astaroth to control her temper. Reigning in her fury, she took a deep breath.

"What happened yesterday?" Astaroth managed to spit out through gritted teeth.

She could scarcely believe that demented creature would let them go scot-free without breaking any of their limbs.

"Nothing... He left... He didn't want to come back with me..."

Astaroth glanced at the rabbit's complicated expression and her anger inexplicably melted.

She couldn't help prodding into her business, "How are you sure that guy's your father?"

"What?" Kali shot Kaisa a quizzical look, "he's your dad???"

The woman nodded dumbly before mumbling, "Binsikhi... It means little explorer in our dialect... Only my dad and mom call me that..."

She didn't continue anymore. Because the other possibility has long since died. However, unlike the rest who have ample amounts of social intelligence, Kali fell short in that department. She opened her mouth, about to ruin everyone's day, mostly the fragile rabbit's one. Before stupid questions even left her lips, Astaroth pinch the rogue's hand, shooting her a warning glare. The girl looked aggrieved, completely clueless to the current precarious bridge she's treading on.

At this moment, Kaisa laughed in a somewhat depressing and helpless way, "I thought Dad would have been living well since he wasn't there when my village got swallowed by a rift. But..."

"He's Void-touched," Astaroth finished her words, "and judging from his current state, the corruption should be somewhere along the severe stages."

The rabbit jolted from the verbalisation of the cold hard truth—her sole living family wasn't spared from the same tragedy that had befell upon the rest of her village. With power comes sacrifice. The raw strength that bastard had displayed last night, able to crush even her all-powerful grandfather... That's not something ordinary Void-touched folks should possess. Even if Kassaiadyn's sea of hatred was his motivation to not succumb to the corruption, there still needs to be a trade. Such prowess has always required an equivalent exchange to be made. Something that weighed just as much as the ability to fully harness the Void's ability to riftwalk—his life. That bastard's dying. Every passing day was just his humanity being eaten away, his corpse decaying further. At this point, he couldn't even be classified as a human anymore.