From the Ashes

Chapter 18 ~ The Relief of Pain

Tarion blinked his eyes open and winced as his head began to spin and pound with renewed pain. He had no notion of where he was or what had happened. One minute he'd been facing down two Corrupted Fae and the next, there had been a skull-splitting ringing. His ears had popped, blood began to pour from his nose, and then there was nothing. 

Tarion shook his head, though it only made his lingering pain worse rather than clearing his senses. He lifted a hand to his nose. The blood around it was still warm and had only just begun to clot, which meant it hadn't been as long as he feared. So where was he, and where was Morana?

He struggled to sit upright and blinked again. His surroundings remained dark, almost pitch-black. His heartbeat quickened. Tarion stuck out a hand and his fingers brushed against dirt. He snapped a ball of light into his grasp and cast the soft glow around himself. Crumbling dirt walls were all that met his gaze. They'd thrown him in a hole somewhere.

Tarion gulped down shallow breaths as his lungs grew increasingly tight. Not now. He couldn't afford this now. He had to get back to Morana. He squeezed his eyes shut and magic funneled out of the hole, encompassing the land around it.

He could sense several bodies close by, but just out of hearing. His magic honed in on one of them in particular. Her silhouette formed in his mind, shining brilliantly as she sent her own magic pulsing out in unrelenting waves.

He reeled his senses back in and opened his eyes. The dirt walls blurred closer and closer, pressing in all around him. Tarion sucked down one breath after the other and forced himself to look up. The hole was covered by something. That's why there was no sunlight. He thrust a hand towards it and magic blasted against the barrier, but it didn't budge.

"No," he rasped, hurtling magic at it again.

No, he couldn't be trapped down here. He'd only just escaped his last prison. The darkness was stifling. The walls continued to creep closer. His back pressed against something and a shudder laced his spine. His chest heaved with uneven breaths but he found no air. Maybe there was none. Maybe they meant to suffocate him.

Tarion doubled over, digging his nails into his scalp. No, no, no. He would not die down here. Not like this. There was a way out. There had to be. He had to get back to Morana. He wouldn't wait here for those Corrupted Fae to figure who he was and send Rhidian, Gaelen, or Astaroth to collect him.

But his mind was slipping fast. He could scarcely hear the logical thoughts that were desperately trying to make themselves known. They were overwhelmed by panic and terror. It was so dark. It was small. It was enclosed. He couldn't see the way out. It was dark. So dark. Like the tomb.

"It's just as you left it," Astaroth had said. He still had it. Of course he did. He was just waiting for a chance to use it. A chance to seal him away for another century. Maybe forever.

He had to get out of here. He had to get himself back under control. Tarion jerked one of his sleeves up to his elbow, then raised a shaking palm and watched his magic seep through it with a crimson glow until his skin radiated with heat. He clamped his hand around his arm without a second thought. Scorching pain bolted through his nerves and a hoarse scream tore from his lips.

"Fuck!" Tarion seethed, letting go of himself. The burning was excruciating. He could feel his skin sizzling where his hand had been. But it worked. The pain had thrust his panic back for now. He didn't give it time to return.

Tarion threw himself at the dirt wall and dug his fingers in along with the toe of his boot, then stretched his other foot to the opposite wall. Dirt slid loose around his feet but he paid it no mind. Inch by inch, Tarion clawed his way up the walls. His arms trembled and he clenched his jaw against a fresh wave of pain.