Chapter 192: Living Nightmare (Patreon)

Loh sat next to Stryg’s bed as the blue goblin slept. He had been injured horribly, even Elzri was amazed he had survived. Despite all the healing spells Elzri had casted over him, Stryg’s body was still recovering.

Sweat dripped off his body and soaked into the blankets. Loh had already changed the wet towel on his forehead several times, but his fever did not seem to be receding. She was grimly reminded of when Stryg had fallen last year during his Duels Class’ final exam.

Loh glanced at the half dozen bottles and vials on the nightstand. The town’s resident red mage had come in earlier and brought several magical tonics for when Stryg awakened. Loh wondered if she should give him one now.

She glanced out the window, the sun’s light was already fading on the horizon. The moon flew high in the night sky, gone was last night’s blood-red face, the moon's bright silver sheen had returned.

This year’s Festival of the Gods was over, not that Loh had even bothered walking through the river town during the festivities. Loh had been preoccupied. She looked away from the window and back at Stryg.

Why had the frost wolves kept Stryg safe? If it hadn’t been for them he would have drowned in the Dire River. Those wolves weren’t supposed to be friendly, the bestiaries classified them as very dangerous. And since when could they talk? Loh had never read any text mentioning that particular ability.

In either case, it still didn’t make any sense why they spared Stryg’s life or hers. More importantly, how did the alpha frost wolf know about Stryg? Her apprentice had never mentioned meeting any frost wolves while growing up, in fact, if he was to be believed, last summer was the first time Stryg had seen a frost wolf.

So why did the frost wolves care so much for Stryg?

Loh clenched her fists and bit her bottom lip.

Could it actually have to do with Lunae, after all, Stryg said the frost wolves were the moon goddess’ harbingers? But if the ebon gods were real, then wasn’t Stryg supposed to be some kind of bad omen? Why would Lunae send her frost wolves to save him?

Loh shook her head vehemently.

No, what was she even thinking? The ebon gods weren’t real, they couldn’t be. She refused to believe that everyone’s lives were dictated by some four invisible beings floating in the sky. There had to be some logical explanation for all of this. She just had to figure out what it was.

Loh stared at Stryg’s sleeping face with curiosity.

“...Who are you, Stryg?” whispered Loh.

“Please, don’t…” a soft mumble escaped Stryg’s lips.

Loh’s eyes widened, “Stryg?”

She reached out and gently placed her hand on his shoulder.

“Please, don’t…” he mumbled.

Loh furrowed her brow, the words were the same. He had mumbled the same exact words when he had been unconscious after his fall last year.

Stryg grimaced, his body tensed with discomfort.

“Please, don’t leave… me…” he whimpered.

“Stryg, can you hear me? It’s okay, I’m here,” Loh whispered soothingly.

His eyelids shot open, his wide pupils constricted into thin slits. Loh jumped back in surprise.

A puzzled look crossed his face. “...Master?”

Loh sighed, her tense muscles relaxed with relief.

“You’re awake,” she smiled.

Stryg looked around the small room, his eyes darting everywhere.

“W-where am I?” asked Stryg weakly.

“You’re in a room we rented at a tavern, second floor. We’re in one of the river towns near Widow’s Crag.”

Stryg sat up and grimaced with pain. He staggered and fell back.

“Careful, your body is still healing. You shouldn’t move around a lot, you need to rest,” said Loh sympathetically.

Stryg groaned, “Ugh, what happened? Why are we here?”

Loh swallowed the lump in her throat, “Um… Your classmates and you were escorting a few human families across Dusk Valley. But when you reached Widow’s Crag you were ambushed by the Cairn Valley Tribe. Many of the enemies escaped, but we were able to save a few of the students, including you, but the families all died.”

“Died…?”

Stryg’s eyes widened, memories of last night flooded back to him.

He sat up in a flash of shock, “Clypeus! Clypeus…”

Stryg slowly turned to Loh, tears forming at the corner of his bloodshot eyes. “D-did he…?”

He let the question fall into silence, unable to finish his words of fear.

Loh licked her lips and nodded, “...Clypeus Gale was reported to have perished in the defense of his comrades. Guards were sent out to recover his body, they should be back soon.”

Stryg’s blue face paled, his lips trembled, and his pupils widened until only the faintest lilac ring could be seen at the edge of the irises.

“Uh... uh... uh…” he gasped in short mutterings.

“Stryg,” Loh grabbed his hand.

He pulled his hand away and bent over with clenched teeth. He gripped his chest tight, his claws dug through the bandages and opened the wounds underneath.

“Stryg, stop! You’re hurting yourself!”

Stryg screamed, a hoarse voice escaped his throat with a sonorous noise of pain and agony. He rocked back and forth and cried with a wretched dissonance. Loh threw her arms around him and held him tight as he wailed.

Tears slipped down Loh’s cheeks as she witnessed the true immensity of her failure.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” she whispered over and over.

Loh held him close, his anguished cries reverberated through the walls. A bitter howl echoed in the far-off distance. Loh looked up with suspicious dread. To her relief, the moon was still its usual silver.

“I’ll kill him… Marek… The Cairn will pay.” Stryg snarled through tears and spit.

Loh bit her lip, “Stryg, I know how you feel, but-”

Stryg’s voice grew cold with the sting of hatred, “I’ll destroy them, each and every single one of those bastards.”

The bottles on the nightstand began to tremble.

“Um, Stryg…” mumbled Loh.

He laughed with derision, “I won’t leave a single one alive. There will be no children to spread the stories of horror I will inflict on their people.”

Small droplets rose within the bottles and vibrated.

Stryg’s laugh turned to unhinged rage, “And Marek. I will leave him for last, he will see his people scream out for help, but there will be none! I swear to you, Cly, they will all DIE!”

The bottles shattered, their fluids spilled over the nightstand dripped to the floor. The rage in his voice fell into soft whimpers.

“Stryg?” Loh rubbed his back.

“...It’s all my fault,” he cried. “You told me I couldn’t handle the exam on my own. You told me to listen… but I didn’t. I led my friends to the wrong cliff… Cly is dead because of me.”

Loh’s hands trembled, “...Stryg, this isn’t your fault. No one could have predicted this.”

A scream of anguish echoed from downstairs. Stryg’s ears twitched.

“Nora,” mumbled Stryg.

He pulled away from Loh and stumbled to his feet.

“Wait, don’t go down there,” she called out.

Her voice fell on deaf ears. Stryg pushed the door open and limped past the dark empty hall. He gripped onto the stair railings and hopped down the steps. He stumbled every few steps, but he didn’t stop and kept walking.

Stryg reached the final step and froze.

Several people stood in the bar. Nora was on the floor, crying over Clypeus’ body. The vampire’s pale complexion hadn’t changed very much, he seemed almost asleep. But the dried blood on his lips and the large dark red stain on his shirt were unmistakable.

None of it seemed real to Stryg, as if he was in a horrible nightmare, begging to wake up. It was Clypeus’ two short swords laid next to him that made the grim reality sink in. The memories of the battle against Marek swam through Stryg’s mind.

Clypeus was gone.

Nora caught sight of Stryg from the corner of her eye.

She glared at him, “Clypeus should have run away with us! Why did you stop me? WHY!?”

Stryg was at a loss for words. What could he say that would make any of this right?

Nora stood up and marched over to him. “Tell me, Stryg!”

Kegrog wrapped his burly arms around her small frame and held her back.

Nora screamed, “Tell me, Stryg! Tell me!”

Nora fell to her knees and cried, “Why did he have to die?”

Stryg trembled, a large lump in his throat. “...I…”

Stryg turned and ran. His legs spasmed with pain, but he didn’t care. He pushed open the tavern’s front doors and ran. Stryg gritted his teeth and fled the tavern. His bare feet slammed into the dirt street with painful steps. The cool night air blew away his burning tears.

His leg cramped and his ankle twisted at the unexpected movement. He tripped and fell face-first into the dirt. He bit his lip, one of the sharp canine teeth slicing into his inner cheek.

Stryg rolled over and spat out a glob of blood and saliva. He didn’t bother getting up. Where would he go? Where could he hide that would shelter from the pain in his chest? Stryg stared at the silver moon hanging in the night sky.

He really was a bad omen.

Loh’s face came into view and blocked his sight of the moon.

“There you are, it took me a while to find you,” she grinned.

Stryg frowned, she was resting on a crutch. He looked down and finally noticed her leg, it was bandaged and in a splint.

“What happened to your leg?” asked Stryg.

“It’ll heal. More importantly, you shouldn’t run off like that, people around here aren’t the nicest to strangers, especially to hybrids and goblins. You being both definitely doesn’t help.”

“Time to get up.” She threw him a handkerchief, “Use that to clean your face.”

Stryg blinked, he hadn't even noticed the tears. He slowly pushed himself to his feet and wiped the snot, blood, and tears from his face.

“Goblins aren’t supposed to cry, it's a sign of weakness,” he mumbled.

It seemed fitting, he supposed.

Loh shook her head, “You’re wrong, crying is a sign that you care. You cared greatly for Clypeus, there is no shame in that.”

Stryg stayed quiet and clenched the handkerchief tight.

Loh wrapped her free arm around his shoulder, “I know it hurts. But you aren’t alone in this. I’m here with you and I promise, I’m not going anywhere.”

“Mm,” Stryg mumbled glumly.

“Now come on, I don’t know about you, but I’m starving. Help your weak, old master back to the tavern,” she grinned.

“...Okay. Master?”

“What is it?”

“You may be old, but you're not weak.”

Loh frowned, “I was joking.”

Stryg nodded in understanding, “Oh… Makes sense, you know you’re strong.”

Loh wrinkled her nose, “What exactly do you consider old?”

“Anyone past 30. Most goblins in the Blood Fang tribe never made it that far.”

“Well, for your information the rest of the Realm consider drow my age to be very young, practically teenagers. Do you see any wrinkles on this gorgeous face, huh? I think not.”

“...How do I face Nora? How do I face all of them?” Stryg mumbled.

Loh sighed, “You don’t have to, not right now. Everyone’s emotions are running high. It’s best if we stay away from Nora and the others for a while. I’ll have our food brought to our rooms.”

~~~

As they walked back to the tavern Stryg caught several familiar scents wafting from a nearby building.

“What is that place?” Stryg pointed.

Loh’s face turned grim, “The town’s garrison. Why?”

“I smell someone in that garrison,” he walked off.

“Stryg, wait, where are you going?!”

“I have to know,” he muttered. “Why is that lamia here?”

(AUTHOR'S NOTE:)

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