To The End

Chapter 9:

The sun’s warmth kissed her skin as it gleamed through the dirtied glass windows. It beckoned her to wake up, pulling her from her slumber. She fought it off for a bit; she wanted to get as much sleep as possible before they had to continue their journey east. However, she is forced awake when remembering the events of the night before. Her eyes shot open and darted around in a panic.

Slowly coming to a calm, her gaze landed on Oren. He didn’t seem to notice that she had woken; his own eyes glued to the body that lay at the door. They were narrowed, and she thought she saw him sneering for a moment. But then his attention turned to the small journal set on the table, jotting something down. As she watched him closely, she wondered what he was writing about. With the look on his face, she would have guessed it was something in regards to the beast at the door.

Asteria’s mind wandered back to the night before, and she felt sick near instantly. Despite her best effort, she had fallen asleep on her bed with her blade in hand and back against the wall. She felt uncomfortable and clammy at the thought of what might have happened if she had not fallen asleep with her dagger in her grasp and the nightstand adding the extra blockage at the door. The sound of the beast slamming against the door and the clattering of the nightstand flying across the room had given her enough time to wake up and realize her dire circumstance.

Bile crept up in her throat when she remembered the smell of rot and decay billowing out of its mouth like a toxic fog. She had just about retched onto the bed with how it poured across her face as it had gotten closer and closer to her. She had put all of her strength into bracing her dagger against its fangs, but it wasn’t going to be enough. If it hadn’t been for Oren… the thought made her uneasy. What would have happened to her if that thing had bitten her? They didn’t even know what it was then, and she could have been turned into whatever it was, or poisoned, or many other things.

The journal slammed shut, the pencil used as its page marker. Oren rose from his seat and began to pace, flexing his hands as he walked back and forth. She watched him, his brows furrowed in serious thought. Muscles flexed beneath his shirt as he clenched and unclenched his hands, and she had a hard time looking away. She wondered what was going through his mind; what was making him so tense? Or was it that he was worried or anxious? She couldn’t tell.

“Uh, Oren?” Asteria asked gently, trying to get his attention.

He did not respond, only continuing to pace and think. She slowly rose from her spot. Unsure of whether to approach him or not, she simply walked in front of his path just beyond the point he was stopping and turning. He stopped mid-pacing and looked up at her, his eyes deep and mysterious. Yet, once they landed on her they seemed to lighten a bit.

“Sorry,” his voice was so soft, it was barely more than a whisper. “Were you saying something?”

She nodded and explained, “Sort of. I was trying to ask what’s got you so on edge or transfixed, but you seemed to have been so lost in your own thoughts that you didn’t hear me.”

“Ah,” he acknowledged, and he went on to explain what had him so focused. He told her that while she was asleep, he had been looking around and trying to find some simple home remedies for her cut. While he doubted he was going to find a poultice or something of the like to dress her wound with, he felt confident that he would stumble upon something like garlic and honey or perhaps even some turmeric. However, upon entering the cellar he was horrified by what he found.

Oren continued, detailing the symbols and sigils he had found. There had been some tokens and - what he described as- bobbles that had the same markings. While he was down there, he started to smell something revolting. The color drained from his face for a moment before he told her about this door, how ominous it was. He had pushed it open, and it led to a small room. The same markings were scattered along the walls, written in deep red. When he had looked down at the floor he saw bones and body parts strewn about. It had been an absolute mess, and he saw only one that remained mostly whole.