Monsters and Maidens (015 & 016)(Book 2)

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AN: 9.5K words. Eva's chapter alone is long enough I'd considered splitting it into two! But I didn't, because I'm awesome. 

It was a hell of a lot of fun to write, so I hope you guys enjoy it too!

[015] [Sacrifice (Eva)]

Eva was going to die.

The hunger gripped her, gnawing at her from the inside. It was a twisting agony in her stomach that spread all over her like rot. She was dying. She could almost feel her own body as it tried to eat itself. Some glimmer of sanity acknowledged this was all in her mind, that it was all instinct imprinted upon her maiden brain.

It didn’t matter; the knowledge did not make the hunger any lesser. There was only room for hunger and fear for her life. Something had scared her, something other than the hunger. Eva was running and stumbling as she went, too weak to fight. The scary thing was behind her, away, out of sight.

All around her there were screams.

Death.

Fear.

Food.

It was dark, but she could see as clear as day, the shadows could conceal nothing from her. Something bright and red, smelling oh so sweet. There was danger in every direction, but the hunger was the most dangerous one. It was killing her. So she lunged at the dying thing, sank her fangs and claws, and drank. Long deep gulps that brought mercy and relief to her very soul.

Drinking was more important than breathing, and Eva nearly choked as she clutched at the thing that was keeping her alive. With every gulp the pain abated, her body stopped shaking, and clarity slowly returned to her. It started as a mild realization of her immediate surroundings, of the roars and the clash of fists and blades. There was a fight going on.

Her reaction to that was not to run, but to shift and make herself harder to spot. To use the body as cover as best she could while continuing to feed.

Next came the broader context. This was a fight, yes, but one between two factions. One… one faction had hurt her, threatened her, starved her. Immediately Eva looked for something that might help her recognize, which was the side she should hate. But this was no formal war; there were no uniforms or insignias. It looked more like an open brawl.

The next layer of awareness brought her realization that the brawl was only a part of it. The larger and more brutish maidens fought against one another with fists, blows that crippled but did not kill. Yet the same would not be said for the other breeds, the green-skins would fight against other breeds with steel and unflinching brutality. With dawning horror, Eva noticed how the Fledglings would be targeted above all else. Even Goblins or Orcs fighting one another would turn upon the shadow-dwelling maidens and kill them before going back into the brawl. Eva tugged the large green corpse and propped it against a wall so she could hide in its shadow. But she had to keep feeding.

And as she reached her fill, the grips of the hunger relented. It released the rest of her thoughts. Evans Bavtha blinked in dawning horror. The former head of the Bavtha household looked upon herself and shuddered, blood covering just about every inch of her naked body.

Reality crashed upon her, the memories returning in a flash flood of horror. The Vampire, the attack, the darkness, the fog, the hunger, and then waking to a new world, a new body, a new species. And now this. She’d lost her mind. The hunger had taken over with such ferocity she’d even…

Eva used her claws to cut the clothes of her unfortunate meal, turning them into rags to wipe off as much of the blood as she could. A futile task when there was so much of it. The maiden tried to ignore the alien sensations of her body. The familiarity of its presence didn’t take long to settle in. She wanted to vomit, to feel any kind of disgust, yet the scent of it was as alluring as a fine wine, its taste like nectar.

Huddled under the mass of flesh and muscle that was the dead Orc, she did her best to fashion herself some semblance of modesty, trying to consider how to escape this hellish place. Yet as she was finishing to wrap the cloth around her waist, she caught a whiff, of the sweetest, most delicious thing. Her gaze zeroed into the source like an equation that was being resolved within her mind. A speckle of dried blood on her forearm. Without thought, she inhaled it, feeling as it washed through her like a powerful spirit.

One lick and the stain was gone, all that it left behind a taste of lighting upon her tongue.

Rick.

The final set of memories unlocked, and Eva shuddered. She had nearly killed Rick. No, even with how distorted her memories felt, she was sure he was not long for this world. Of all the things she had done since being cursed by that loathsome Vampire, attacking a fellow human was the lowest she had ever been.

The repugnance came to her naturally this time, and Eva almost enjoyed its punishment upon her conscious self.

“BLOODSUCKER!”

The scream came with a flash of pain, something sharp digging into Eva’s shoulder.

She cried out, kicking away at the Goblin that had snuck up on her and running away before the next blow could land upon her. The shadows invited her in their gentle embrace, choking the air out of her lungs the moment she went too deep, allowing her sweet breath as she came out far from her attacker.

The world had shifted around her; the brawl continued but in an entirely different place. Violence was all around her. Eva saw a handful of Goblins attacking an Orc, biting and scratching as the larger maiden backhanded them out of the way, kicking at those that latched onto her feet. A Doggirl broke into the fight, screaming, raising a sword and charging in.

One goblin pounced onto the maiden’s flank, knife in hand that rained down blows upon her target’s throat and face. It was with screams and rage that the maiden tore through her enemy. Eva’s eyes widened as she noticed something else, imperceptible at first. Within seconds the Goblin had gained a full foot in height. The maiden’s wiry body was filling out with muscle and sinew.

A shift.

The Goblin was shifting, transcending into an Orc. The knife was discarded, turning to use her meatier hands to pummel away until the body of the Doggirl stopped moving altogether. The new Orc raised her bloodied fist high, roaring as the enemy had been felled. The instant she did, the first Orc was upon her, and they traded blows.

Eva saw the Goblins stepping away from the duo, seeking a fight of their own. Realizing they might spot her if she lingered, she jumped back into the shadows, seeking escape, or at least a place of refuge.

The more she jumped, the more of the ferocity she saw.

She could smell it, taste it, some deep part of her wanted to indulge in it. A part she ignored. Maidens were fighting all around her. She had to run, she was vulnerable; she was weak. Fighting wasn’t for her. Humans should never fight, humans-.

“COVER THE LEFT FLANK!”

It was a command that came with the strict severity of order, a singular point of sanity within the sea of savagery. A circle of torches around two maidens, Monica and Dia, their features flickering against the light. The Sabertooth was kneeling, face twisted in pain, concern, anguish. Her back was partially turned away from Eva. The large maiden was holding something in her arms, something precious. In front of Monica was the Rapha, kneeling. Her body was radiating with the green light of her power.

And between them was a half-dead man. Rick.

Eva’s breath caught in her throat, her chest strained.

Rick’s body was more blood than skin, Eva’s eyes lowered to her hands, on the black nails that were too sharp to be human. Claws. The scent of his blood still lingered on her lips. She could feel her fangs against her tongue. The injury on her shoulder, that should have crippled her for days, didn’t even hurt anymore. The surrounding shadows were transparent. She did not need light to see.

She… she was…

“Sister.” The voice spoke in a hushed rush. It came from the shadows. “Sister!” It insisted. Eva turned to see a Fledgling, one dressed in black. “Lady Aimes has ordered retreat. We are to gather for the ritual. These beasts must be dealt with.”

The maiden reached out, offering a hand for her to take.

“I…”

“I know it is new, being free of the bond and its restraints.” The pale interloper declared. “But we cannot linger here.” The hand was offered again. “There is much to be done.”

Except the bond was still there. Eva could feel it in the back of her head. Rick was yet to die, and in that flicker of doubt, the decision was made for her. If he somehow lived, then whatever the Vampire planned would put an end to that. The very thought gripped her heart with icy shards.

Her hand reached out.

“Quickly!” the other Fledgling insisted.

There was a shift in the surrounding air. Something imperceptible that made Eva’s hairs stand on edge, goosebumps running through her body. It was hard to breathe. The icy fear clenched into her heart all the harder, and for a split second she feared this was Rick’s death.

But the growl that accompanied it told her otherwise.

Eva turned her head just enough to spot them. The two blue eyes that had locked upon them. The Fledgling’s blood froze, her heart clenched, and her lungs refused to make a sound. Monica’s eyes were daggers against their throat.

Cerulean hatred burned in that gaze. One that vanished into the shadows, leaving only the Rapha and Rick behind. The pressure was not gone; however, the predator’s attention was upon them and they could no more move than they could breathe.

Monica emerged from the shadows in front of them. Her body blocked the light of the torches, plunging them into her shadow, looming over them like a guillotine. The monster’s eyes were upon Eva.

“RUN!”

The stranger had barely uttered the word. It had earned a flicker of attention from Monica. She lashed out with obsidian claws.

The other Fledgling slumped. Eva’s gaze lowered to the body. It had no head. Blood pooled around the stump, corpse twitching for only a second before becoming still.

“You. Hurt. Rick.”

Three words, laced with pain and anger and murder.

Monica’s gaze bore into Eva and pierced through her, fangs glinting in the darkness. The smaller maiden was pinned, unable to move, barely able to breathe, heart frantically hammering into her chest.

“Please.”

She saw the blow coming. Her body moved, raising her arms to protect herself. The claws ripped into her forearms. The impact was harder than the cut, and the Fledgling smacked through the hut as if it were only paper. She stood up and the next blow came.

There was no time to think, no place to run. Eva was a rag-doll that had fallen into a river. The blows would come without pause. Any time she thought she might get a moment to breathe, the next would send her flying into the next set of obstacles. Her bones screamed, cuts littered her body.

Eva launched through the shadows and ran.

Monica was faster.

So much faster.

Three steps and the claws found their mark on her back. The cut was intentionally shallow, painful rather than lethal. Eva shrieked, stumbling, running right as the next attack ripped at her chest and gut. These were deeper, tearing at her body. She tried to drag herself away from the next blow.

But none came.

Monica’s shadow loomed over her in silence.

“Please.” Eva begged the monster.

The maiden stepped closer, not making a sound. Waiting.

The instant Eva’s bleeding had stopped, the next blow was a slash, sharp, cutting into her chest again. The Fledgling shrieked, and the next cut landed upon her. It was slow, methodical, waiting long enough for Eva’s regeneration to slow the bleeding before the next wound sprang from her pale skin.

“Please! I didn’t want to do it!” Tears ran down her cheeks. “I-I didn’t want to hurt him!” Eva raised her arms, preparing for the next attack, or maybe even just a quick end to it all.

But it never came.

Monica had leaned away and was paying attention to something else. The murderous pressure had relented, as she’d turn to look at something off in the distance. Something that had bothered the monster.

Eva shuddered, not daring to move. There was something in the air around them that lingered, yet despite not having a scent, it left a taste in her mouth. Iron and rust, Eva could’ve recognized it anywhere. It was the taste of blood-energy. Her mind rushed back to the now dead Fledgling. This was a ritual.

“Rick’s in danger.”

The declaration snapped Monica to look back at Eva.

“Rick’s in danger.” She spoke again, trying to hold the cut on her gut from opening further. “They’re doing something, something big. It will hurt everyone.”

The feline growled. “It complicated?”

“Maybe. I don’t know.” The maiden looked down at her gut. The bleeding had stopped already. “I… I might be able to help.”

Eva still wasn’t sure, but… but it was better than being there. She remained still, waiting, meeting Monica’s gaze as the Sabertooth stared into her soul. An eternity of silence, even as the fighting continued all around the camp.

“Eva run away, Monica hunt. Slow hunt.” The feline spoke with finality.

She reached at Eva with her massive paw and grasped her by the leg, raising her into the air and slinging her over her shoulder. Eva shrieked, trying to break free, but it would’ve been easier to tear her own leg off than escape Monica’s grip. There wasn’t even room for indignation.

Trying to take in the upside down world around her wasn’t possible with everything that was going through her head. The pain from her gut had vanished, having patched itself and not leaving a scar behind. The thought hammered against her like waves against a sandcastle.

She wasn’t human.

Weeks of trying to ignore it, of not wanting to think about it. She’d run out of corners to hide in. The proof was as irrefutable as it had been at the start, but there was no more left of her that could fight it.

She wasn’t human.

The bond didn’t give her room for self-pity. Rick was in danger. That was enough for the bond to do as it was meant to do to all maidens. The thought of his death was terrifying. Not because of any particular attachments she might have felt. As a man, there was little that could be respected of Rick. He lacked poise and consideration, acted without a care for his appearance or repute. He was almost as much of a brute as the Sabertooth. He even kept using his own strength rather than that of the surrounding maidens. Even when it was clearly a foolish endeavor. As a supposed academic, he spoke with all the passion and certainty, yet the ideas were wild and ever impossible to believe.

Nothing about Rick should have prompted such concern for his well being. Evans Bavtha would have not paid the human any mind, let alone effort. The one thing that set him apart was the same bond that now pushed her mind to consider how this situation might be resolved without placing Rick’s life at risk.

Eva let out a croak of a laugh. She’d read about this so many times… she was rationalizing. She did not feel fear for his death, but what it represented: the threat of the ever-present feral curse. But the knowledge didn’t make it any less possible to fight back, such was the way of the world.

Maidens were slaves to their instincts, powerful beasts meant to only ever have their full minds when following a human.

Such had been her role, once.

But Eva wasn’t human.

Now she was on the other side, the instincts within her no different than a human’s need to breathe or eat.

The world spun as she was thrown aside. Eva shrieked, curling into a ball to avoid being hit by whatever had just happened, quickly scampering to hide before anyone stronger caught sight of her.

It took her a heartbeat to recognize Monica had just jumped into a fight. Or rather, it was like the fight had swallowed her.

The air reeked of power and blood, Eva felt goosebumps running across every inch of her body. The Orcs were here too, but so were the Fledglings. All of them. It was a gruesome sight, neither side willing to back down and just as eager to rip the other apart. The Orcs fought with heavy weapons and crushing blows, the Fledglings with piercing weapons and darkness. Both sides made to be brought down all the harder because they could heal themselves with only some moments of rest.

But none could regenerate quite how the Ghoul did.

The blackened maiden glowed with blood, her claws tore through the thick Orc flesh like melted butter. On her own, Zagan could fend off four others where two Fledglings would be needed to just stop an Orc. And every handful of seconds, the Ghoul would pool her power and… nothing would happen?

It was easy to see the reason. The Succubus was busy. The winged maiden flew over the fight, dodging whatever was thrown her way by either side, but focusing her powers upon the blood-suckers. Every time the Ghoul moved in to unleash some ability, she would swoop in to neutralize it, and every time the rabid Fledglings attempted to gather to attack, she would be there to scatter them.

Even with her help, however, the fighting was not looking to be in favor of the Orcs.

That was true at least until Monica emerged from behind the vampiric horde.

The maiden was a sickle through wheat. Her claws tore and maimed with a speed and power that was impossible to block or avoid. Any Fledgling that stood in her path was little more than chaff. By the time they’d realized she was there, the Sabretooth had already cut down a tenth of their numbers.

Zagan was the first to react, launching herself at the maiden with claws and fang. Their clash immediately made clear who the stronger one was. The Ghoul had been hasty and had lost an arm for her effort. Eva’s heart raced just watching as Monica did not play, pouncing in to finish the job.

Except the Succubus got in the way.

“Do not kill!” She screamed. “Rick will die!”

“Kiara lies!” Monica spat back.

Monica swatted Kiara away with her paw, but by then, Zagan had regained her arm. The Ghoul’s regeneration was not just astounding, but impossible. Eva knew the flesh eater was capable of monstrous self-healing, past what even an Orc or a Fledgling could accomplish, but even then, this was too much. And as she tore her eyes away from the three monsters, she saw the Fledglings as they too were healing themselves far too quickly. Even some of Monica’s victims, those whose heads were still attached to their bodies, were slowly piecing themselves back together.

The air reeked of blood-energy. And in it, Eva realized this was what was bolstering the night-dweller’s powers.

Monica, Kiara, and Zagan continued in a locked three-way battle. The Ghoul could use none of her more powerful abilities because Kiara would negate them. But Monica could not score a definite blow because of the Succubus getting in the way. All around them the Orcs and Fledglings had quickly learnt to steer clear, lest they get caught up as collateral.

Using the shadows, Eva moved to circle the fight, looking for the source of power that hung heavy in the air. Without Kiara to support the wider fight, the Fledglings had formed groups to cast entangling shadows to hold down their opponents. The Orcs were quickly losing ground.

Though she was unsure what she could do, Eva knew of Vampires and their power. Mistresses of massive rituals, it was well known for anyone who bothered to study the matter of how they could use blood as catalysts for their spells.

It didn’t take long for her to see the ageless maiden.

There, at the back of the mayhem was a twenty meter wide ritual channeling  formation. The massive circle was filled with intricate patterns, segmenting and shaping the energy that was being channeled through it into several spells at once. Most of the runes were foreign to Eva, but she could at least recognize which parts were targeting the Fledglings and which were targeting everyone else.

At the center of the ritual stood the Vampire. Lady Aimes. The creature had her clothes torn, her wrists cut, chains of blood connected her forearms to the spell, binding her in place and allowing her to power the massive spell with minute control. Eva watched in awe as the Vampire finely empowered and diminished individual sections of the ritual, altering its functions for whatever purposes she currently needed.

Eva had not gone unnoticed.

“You join us, then. A wise decision.” The Lady spoke with the tone of authority, lips parted into a wide smile. “You carry my sister’s blood within you. A destiny most great.”

There was a casualness to her tone, a calmness. Like there wasn’t a bloody battle mere meters away, as if the howls of pain, death, and power didn’t ring all around them. No, as far as the Vampire was concerned, she was in no real danger. Success, all but guaranteed.

The Fledglings surrounding the ritual circle parted for Eva to approach. The maiden hesitated as the Vampire looked at her and scoffed.

“Be dressed, you are a beast of burden no more. You’ve freed yourself of the shackles of the bond.” At the proclamation, Eva’s hand touched her throat, finding it without a collar. Had it been torn off when she was being attacked by Monica? The Vampire mistook the meaning of the gesture. “Worry not, you will have a mortal to bond to once this fight is over. I will make sure you are well taught. How to fight as well. Today’s display was weak.”

But she was still bonded to Rick, the man whose life depended on who won this fight. “The Sabretooth…” she muttered as the other Fledglings draped a cape over her shoulders.

“The Succubus’ toy is marked, and as long as he remains alive, she is mine.” Aimes replied, closing her eyes, the circle under her feet pulsing with her power. “Her misbehavior will be… punished once all is said and done. Delusional as she might be, but she is still an ageless one and killing her would be a waste.”

Eva stopped at the edge of the circle, looking at it, eyes wide and taking in every detail. She couldn't believe it had been made within what had likely been minutes. Such intricate and careful design would have taken any specialist hours. “It is beautiful…” she whispered, observing the patterns.

“A keen eye. Were you studied in the mystic arts?”

“Enchanting.” Eva swallowed, answering the question without a second thought. Her fingers caressed her throat. “A collar…”

“Yes, give her one.”

And just like that, Eva was staring down at the worn leather of the enchanted collar. The collar bolstered a maiden’s ability to form a bond. There was a carefulness to her touch as she turned over, exposing the underside. There she saw the ghost-silk wires that ran their way through from one end to the next.

She frowned, her mind whirling as an idea formed.

A dangerous idea.

“I wish to help.” She declared. “Even if I can’t fight.”

“Collect the collars from the dead. They will be needed for our plans moving forward.” The Vampire was barely paying attention to Eva anymore, turning back towards the fighting. The ritual shifted in its glow, and the Vampire’s features strained.

Something had shifted in the battle, and the Fledgling was ignored as the attention shifted back to the battle. Eva did her best to commit as much of the ritual’s design to memory and made a quick estimation.

Twelve.

Eva hurried, moving closer to the ongoing fight. There she found other Fledglings picking up through the corpses of their brethren, those that had been injured too severely for even their empowered healing to save. They operated with martial efficiency and coordination. Even as the battle raged right within line of sight, they would run into the thick of it and return with bloodied collars.

The fight itself was moving further and further away from the Vampire. The Fledglings were pushing their advantage and pressed forward. There were several points where the lines were being held, one of which where Monica and the Ghoul were still tearing each other apart, another where the gigantic Orc kept bulling through her opponents.

But it was a fight where the vampires would win if nothing happened.

Eva hurried to the pile and shifted through them, picking out fourteen that looked to be usable. Rushing back to the incantation, she halted at the very edge.

“Lady Aimes!” She called out. “There’s a way to empower your magic.”

Before anyone else could stop her, she knelt down and placed the first collar face-down, connecting the line that drew the perimeter and one of the inner branches. There was a split second of panic in the eyes of the Vampire as the glow intensified. But it returned to normal a moment later.

Her gaze now on Eva, the ageless creature looked at her carefully, then at the collar on the ground. “You used the conductive properties of the collar to reduce some of the spillage.” She concluded. “You are familiar with the materials of an enchanted collar?”

“Yes.” Eva nodded, stepping over the edge and into the ritual.

There was a shift in the air, the sound from the outside world dimmed. She could feel the power tickling against her skin. The sheer density of blood-energy would have crippled a human within seconds, killed them within the minute.

But she wasn’t a human anymore.

And she had a plan.

“Another point of spillage is here. The energy could be redirected into this section.” She placed the collar, and the air around her vibrated. “Though I am not familiar with what it is meant to do.”

Lady Aimes smiled. “These are secrets only those in the Red Ring can know.” There was a glint in her eye, looking at Eva more carefully. “I think I can see why my sister gave you the gift.”

Even bound to the ritual through the bloody chains, the maiden’s presence was no different than a coiled rope around her neck. “I will never forget what she did.” The maiden replied through a forced smile, moving to put down the third collar.

The energy swelled harder this time, but also flickered back to normal faster. Eva moved, careful not to step on the blood, the skill to dance within a drawn ritual, something she’d learnt long ago. Doing so in a charged spell would expose her to energies that would likely tear her apart.

As she worked her way to the seventh, every move under the careful attention of the Vampire, she realized it wouldn’t take long before her time would run out.

“Tell me, what were you?”

“I was an enchanter.” The reply came quickly, placing the eighth and feeling her knees practically give out from the next wave of power. This time the ritual did not diminish; rather, it pulsed.

“You… this is a looping battery formation.” The Vampire’s voice was laced with astonishment. “This is something humans know of?”

“It is a core part of the collars.” She replied, dropping the ninth and tenth in quick order.

Outside, the battle was going far more poorly. It was no lie that the additions were empowering the ritual, strengthening it.

But just two more to go, and all of that would be unmade.

Before she could take another step, pain exploded from her feet, her legs pinned in place. The maiden held back the scream, turning to look downwards at her legs. The blood from the ritual had thrust out to lance through her flesh, as if it were alive and protecting itself.

“No one knows how the collars are made.” Lady Aimes spoke slowly, eyes narrowing in suspicion. “What is your name, Fledgling?”

Eva’s gaze flickered at the part of the ritual she went to, then at the Vampire, and down at her own skewered legs, at the parts of the spell from where the blood originated.

The bond screamed at her to act. There was no room for anything else.

“Evans Bavtha.”

The Vampire’s eyes widened in dawning realization.

Eva threw the collars. And as she did, she turned to look downwards at the ritual. She was a maiden. She was a maiden. The bond would not allow her to stand still. It was a fact of the world, maidens would save their human at any cost.

Even if it was their own life.

Forcing herself to fall, she placed her hand on the line.

“NO!”

Too late, the power coursed through Eva, searing pain that only became brighter, burning through her like a sun. The ritual flared out with red light, a beacon that reached up into the sky. The Vampire’s veins lit up with the same power, and outside, the Fledglings shrieked and cried out, some of them bloating like a waterskin that was being forced to take in more water than it could hold.

More of the blood reached out to skewer Eva, but it barely registered with her. She could only marvel at the beauty of the ritual’s destruction. A battery formation that shifted the flow until it reversed. The Vampire tried to fight it, buying time, but only making it worse. The very powers she spent attempting to protect herself fed into the cycle, empowering it further.

Eva had only read of a ritual’s collapse in books, never seen it in person. It was deemed too dangerous for humans to observe without so many layers of protection they’d be blind to the nuances. Of how the very light stuttered and slowed, causing the illusion of time having slowed all around them.

Criticality would soon follow, and it would kill her and the Vampire. Anyone caught within the immediate blast would have the blood energy tear them from the inside, veins and arteries torn from a thousand minute incisions.

A fitting end.

A hand yanking her out of the ritual interrupted her thoughts.

The Succubus glared at her. “I can’t let you die.”

Eva tried to complain, to say something, but her throat had been pierced. She could barely breathe. Her gaze fell on the ritual, and the hateful gaze of the Vampire.

The ageless maiden vanished a moment after.

And with her disappearance, the glow intensified.

The Succubus teleported them away. Not far enough.

The explosion washed over them as a wave of pain.

The last thought through Eva’s mind was that Kiara’s embrace was warm.

[016] [Rush Hour (Dia)]

First rule of the healer’s creed: Human life must be protected.

Second rule of the healer’s creed: Do not operate on the human you are bonded to. Panic could cloud your judgment.

Assessment: A hundred thirty-five lacerations, blood-energy poisoning contaminating injuries in the right leg and left arm, four fractured ribs, right wrist crushed, three severed veins, one punctured artery. Building tension pneumothorax. Severe loss of blood. Tachycardia. Hypotension. And the list only grew from there.

Existing precautions: The patient has severely low tolerance for elemental energy.

Expected time of death: two minutes.

Dia needed a team of three.

She was alone; there was no backup.

Fear trickled at the back of her head. The Rapha submerged her mind deeper into the tranquility of her aura. There was no time to hesitate, to think. Combat healing protocol dictated Rick was a lost cause, not enough resources to treat the patient, and she was in a hostile environment.

Dia threw the protocol out and focused on the procedure.

Her blood-stained hands were shaking. She pushed deeper into the calmness.

First step is decontamination.

The Rapha spread her aura to lay claim over the area and the patient. To protect him and herself from germs, stray particles, and potentially errant energy. Most importantly, it bolstered the patient’s body to begin the healing process sooner. It would increase scarring, but that was a concern for a future she wasn’t sure he’d survive to see.

Dia placed a tourniquet on the patient’s right biceps and within the following second moved to puncture through the chest to relieve the buildup of air.

It bought time.

Expected time of death: four minutes.

Dia shot a quick burst of healing energy into the broken ribs to splint them and ensure they wouldn’t keep pushing through the patient’s lung. She’d need to break them and put them back properly once this was over.

Rick immediately groaned and tensed, the veins within his chest palpitated with a deep blue glow.

With a grimace, she could sense the energy searing into the flesh, partially cauterizing even as the bones marginally mended enough they would not wobble with every breath. The healer turned to the punctured artery. It was right below the left shoulder, a tourniquet wouldn’t help. Dia pushed a minimal amount of elemental energy, as little as she could get away with, so it would clot.

It didn’t.

The blood-energy contaminating it flared out, and the puncture widened. More blood poured out.

Dia swallowed her gasp. She needed to-.

A scream and a sense of danger washed over her. Dia’s instincts lashed out, something deep and primal, not part of her training, something that warned her of extreme danger. The Rapha spared the attention from Rick and saw the Orc breaking through the weakened defensive line and charging.

Straight at her.

“Attack the flank!” Dia commanded. No time to consider whether it was followed or not, whether or not she was about to die.

She snapped back down to her patient. That had wasted two seconds. Her hands moved, applying pressure to the arterial wound with a cloth, mind racing. Two minutes to death, she had to find a solution.

The easiest solution would involve three or more healers.

She was alone.

The lacerated vein on his thigh wasn’t contaminated. She switched targets, keeping pressure on the bleeding artery with one hand while using the other to reach out. Careful, careful, slowly, she kept the healing low and slow, gritting her teeth and feeling the sweat drenching her back.

His timer was remaining in two minutes, his blood-pressure still dropping. Every bit she closed from his leg was time lost, not closing the artery. She was moving too slowly, the blood-energy contamination was spreading. She couldn’t trust a simple clot would prevent further bleeding.

The lacerations on his chest and arms were opening up again. The blood-energy was spreading like a poison, dispersing, removing the clots. Dia didn’t bother trying to close them; the instant she did it would get worse.

It was all getting worse. Dia pulled back the healing tool, her trusty scalpel.

Prioritize.

Blood-loss would kill him first. She had to stop all the bleeding. Rick’s pulse was weakening, heart-rate rising, pressure dropping further. One minute thirty before he’d lost too much.

Dia was whirled around, a heavy hand on her shoulder yanking her away from Rick as she screamed bloody murder. A snarling face and a raised arm, green skin, a Maiden? A Goblin. Alarm, fear, Rick was going to die.

Dia sank further into her aura, her scalpel lashed out at the Goblin’s face. Two stabs in the throat, one in the eye. She twisted back to Rick, disinfecting her tool with a gesture, blood and gore flaking to the ground.

Five seconds wasted. She would not make it.

The approach was wrong.

Healing would cause the blood-energy to lash out. And it already made clotting in the areas near impossible. She dispelled the healing. Her scalpel vibrated as heat built up at its edge. Ten seconds and it glowed red.

She moved, ignoring the sting in her eyes. The heat sizzled and cauterized the injuries shut.

Dia recoiled at the sight of it, too aware this would push towards even more scarring. But was there any other way to save him? To at least buy him seconds of life?

She was alone; there was no backup.

Every seared injury stopped a little more of the bleeding, but allowed the poison to move elsewhere. It bought him seconds. Seconds that were going to run out if she didn’t put them to better use. Dia didn’t have a plan; she didn’t have a way. She increased how much power she put into the cauterization, seeking to immediately close the parts of him that had yet to be contaminated.

Expected time of death: one minute.

Cauterization was too slow. She’d have to brute-force this.

Her own energy was going to kill him.

She had to save him.

She was going to kill him.

But it would kill him more slowly than the hemorrhaging.

Dia formed the spell’s structure and charged it with her energy before altering the energy at the tip of her scalpel from dulled heat to a sharp needle. She began making incisions into the wounds, she couldn’t let her hands shake, each tiny little prickle into Rick’s body left behind a thread of power, drawing a crisscross of her power that would lead to the next point.

The Rapha poured her healing through the thread, pulling on it and imbuing her power into his flesh, willing it to stop bleeding and begin healing itself. The blood-energy contaminants pushed the bleeding into overdrive, and Dia redoubled, ignoring the sting of tears in her eyes.

Rick’s body convulsed. First the veins glowed a dim green under his skin, and as his blood circulated into his lungs and through his heart, it spread through the arteries.

This was too fast, too soon. He should have been able to take more. Was he too weakened? But Dia didn’t stop; she didn’t stop because it was working.

Expected time of death: two minutes.

The Rapha was saving him and dooming him at the same time. The notion tore at her chest. Fear and panic relentlessly hammering against her aura, against herself. Killing him to save him.

It was the only way.

Dia didn’t relent, threading her energy through his body, cutting the power where the wounds had run out of blood-energy contaminants and finally clogged. Only then moving on to the rest.

Blood pressure… stable.

Rick was breathing, pale, trembling, shaking. Alive, but not for long. His temperature was rapidly rising into a feverish thirty-eight degrees. There was no more blood-energy causing any more severe hemorrhaging, but it wasn’t gone, and it still posed a major threat.

Because it was corroding the muscles of his heart.

Expected time of death: four minutes.

The only way for the average human to be poisoned by healing energy in a single session would be if a dozen maidens were pouring their everything into the patient at the same time. There were spells for such rare occasions, meant to drain away such high amounts of excess power. But the few she’d learnt were not meant for situations like this. They could barely work when there was just so little energy within the patient.

Rick’s body was entering the first stages of elemental overdose. And the very methods she could use to prolong his life would only make the problem worse.

Dia pulled her calmness more tightly. There had to be an alternative.

If she didn’t have the answer, then she had to look for one outside.

Her hands moved through the motions through experience alone, her thoughts broadened. What nearby breeds could help her? Orcs, Goblins, and Hobgoblins were discarded. None had the abilities she needed. Politas? Healers, but not through direct energy application, too slow. Her gaze traveled around the area. Fledglings were discarded, they took blood, and Rick had very little of it. The other maiden breeds she could recognize were not useful for her patient’s well being.

Dia’s thoughts ground to a halt when she realized that the fighting had ground to a halt. She barely suppressed the instinct to reach out and help. Everything was derailed within her mind, trying to make sense of what was going on, of what had happened.

It all clashed against her goal of saving her patient.

Most all maidens were breathing, but relatively sluggish or immobile. Bruises were present on nearly every available surface. The Orcs looked better off than the rest, at least in that they could move, but it was a rough state, considering many of the weaker maidens were also bleeding from their ears.

There was no more fighting.

The attackers had left, or died, or whatever. It wasn’t important.

From all around the camp, Dia could hear wails and cries. She saw several of the maidens carrying humans with them. They were enemy maidens, not wearing the cloth tied around their wrists to signal their allegiance.

But against her better judgment, her attention shifted to the humans themselves.

They were barely alive, humans that were bleeding out of their ears and noses. The diagnosis was immediate, a wide-area attack in some form, internal bleeding from ruptured blood vessels. Her group had left their humans outside of camp, safe. No doubt it was the only reason they weren’t desperately racing back to save them.

Whatever had happened had only affected the camp itself, some areas far worse than others.

Why had Rick not been affected? Why hadn’t Dia? She hesitated, wondered whether it had something to do with locking them both under her aura, or the overcharge of healing energy currently killing Rick that she had no solution for.

Dia ignored the question, focusing on more important subjects.

She could save the humans here, though. Some of them wouldn’t make it if she didn’t help. It would be a simple procedure. The maidens had regeneration; they could be fine on their own.

First rule of the healer’s creed: Human life must be protected.

Rick was dying.

First rule of the healer’s creed: Human life must be protected.

But Rick was dying.

Expected time of death: two minutes, two seconds.

Dia pulled herself out of her forced apathy and calmness. Rick was dying, her human was dying. The fear clenched her heart. She would not let herself fail. Adrenaline fueled thoughts raced, desperate.

What could solve this? How could she drain…

The answer came to her in a flash, and her chest filled with fire and rage at the very thought of it.

There was one maiden that specialized in absorbing elemental energy that didn’t rely on sucking their victim’s blood. And a part of Dia wished she was dead, that Monica had gotten to her and that there would be nothing left save a bloody stain on the ground.

But Rick was dying.

It was his only hope.

“To everyone whose human is dying! To anyone who can still move!” Dia screamed at everyone. “I am a healer. I can help. But if you want that help, bring me the Succubus alive!” Her gut clenched in disgust, her eyes hard and unwavering. “If you do not do so within the next two minutes, if my human dies. I will save no one!”

A healer.

A healer manipulating maidens.

Threatening to allow humans to die for her own selfish reasons.

She was just as bad as the charmer. Dia’s lips curled, shaking her head.

No, no! These humans had betrayed the kingdom; they weren’t enslaved like Rick had. They were traitors. It was the one thing that made the bitter taste easier to swallow.

The Rapha returned her focus to Rick. There was less and less she could do for him while the energy was still running rampant within his body. Her meager attempts to drain the excess were pitiful like trying to empty a large puddle by dipping her fingers into it and drying them against her shirt.

The only solution was to shift the energy within him so that it would provide some minor relief in the worst afflicted areas.

It was palliation.

Expected time of death: two minutes, five seconds.

That clock was so close. And every second of the delay she bought was at the cost of putting him in a worse condition. His kidneys were bordering on full failure. His arteries were becoming stiffer. His liver was collapsing in of itself. A thousand deaths that would kill him within hours, days, or weeks.

But that brought seconds to the clock.

Expected time of death: two minutes, three seconds.

Dia’s hands were shaking now. She couldn’t stop them, her arms burned from the tension of the precise work. Heal just enough, extract whatever she could, move energy just enough. Target the parts that can take the punishment.

Kill him just a little more so that he may live just another second.

Rick’s fever was still rising. But that would kill him in an hour.

Would she last long enough?

Would it matter?

Expected time of death: two minutes.

Even unconscious, he groaned and shifted, jaw clenching, body fighting itself as it approached the second stage of elemental poisoning. There were other humans she could be saving. Every minute was a potential human life lost.

If she just let go… if she just… stopped buying Rick seconds of agony…

The thud snapped her out of her strained focus. It nearly broke her from her work entirely. All around her was screaming and chaos. Fights were breaking out, enemies and allied Orcs lashing out at one another.

And right in front of her was the unconscious body of… the Succubus. The maiden held Eva in her arms, the two of them looked like they’d been close to the center of whatever had happened, there was not an inch of them that wasn’t bruised, ears, eyes, nose, mouth, they were all bleeding. They were alive, but while the Succubus was mostly just unconscious, the Fledgling was breathing too faintly to be in a good condition.

Dia’s stomach dropped.

Rick’s body was rocking hard, the green glow of the energy overdose was creeping all over his form visible as spiderwebs growing under his skin. His muscles were tensing, the poisoning was advancing.

No time.

Prioritize.

Her hand removed itself from Rick. The clock she’d been desperately gripping onto ticked down.

“Stand back!” She did not care if anyone listened, bringing the scalpel down to Kiara’s throat, right on top of the internal carotid artery.

Every part of her wanted to just slash through it. This was the charmer’s fault. Everything had gone wrong because of her.

She’d taken Rick.

She’d put Rick into this situation.

Dia used everything she knew and had to sharpen the blade, and pushed. And pushed. And pushed. But the damn Succubus’ skin was tough, tougher than anything Dia had ever worked on. Why would the breed be made with bodies that were harder even than an Orc’s?

It wasn’t until she’d started putting her weight into it that she punctured through.

There was no time for finesse or control. No energy or spell for a full healing or anything close to it. Kiara would have to suffer, and Dia was just fine with that. The Rapha poured as big a burst of her power through the tip of the scalpel as she could, right into the Succubus’ blood-stream, right towards her brain.

With a gasp, her hateful patient opened her eyes.

“If you move, you die.” Dia hissed down at the Succubus, feeling her heightened pulse, seeing her wide eyes, practically tasting the adrenaline. “You will drain Rick. Focus on the area around his heart. NOW!”

The maiden didn’t retort, didn’t even hesitate.

Kiara did not wait for Dia to remove the scalpel before reaching out to Rick with a trembling and bruised hand. “Save the leech,” the Succubus croaked, unconcerned for the blade that could end her there and then.

There was nothing else said.

With a groan, the maiden started to slowly draw the energy out. Dia did not move from her position, holding the scalpel and with the other hand monitoring Rick’s body to verify the procedure.

“He’s still hurt.” The Succubus muttered through heavy grunts. “You… what did you do to him?”

“Buy time.” Dia grit her teeth.

The energy surrounding his heart was being drained out faster now, far more accurately, targeting the one that came in through the veins and keeping the arteries from spreading any more. Kiara had a level of care and finesse Dia would have respected had it been anyone else.

There was no room for such right now. Perhaps ever.

“You’ve done this before.”

Kiara let out a weak huff. “Second time on him, too.”

Expected time of death: five minutes.

Dia let out a minuscule breath of relief. “I am going to heal his lungs. Wait for my signal before draining the area.”

That was as much warning as she needed to give. Kiara clearly knew what she was doing. As soon as the energy had done its work, it was gone. Dia hadn’t pushed to fully suture the injury the ribs had left behind, but enough that it would no longer be of immediate concern.

“When I untie the tourniquet on his arm, I-”

“Save my human!”

The voice was sharp, loud, and came with a tumultuous outcry from the maidens that had brought Kiara. The line of Orcs holding the perimeter kept their weapons brandished, intent on fighting, even though they were leaning on one another and grimacing the entire way.

“Your humans can wait,” the Rapha said, eyes hard.

“Softie.” Kiara croaked the word out, her chuckle turning into a cough. “Leech comes after Rick.”

Dia glanced at the Succubus, frowning. “You will not run away?”

“You want to kill me.” She smirked as she spoke, lips trembling through the pain of the bruises. “But you won’t.”

The Rapha tightened the scalpel’s pressure. “And what makes you think that?”

“You’ve never felt a bond-partner die.” Despite her smirk, her tone was a sound full of bitterness. “Any of us die, and the shock alone could kill him as he is now.” Her leg kicked out at Eva, the maiden entirely not responsive. “The leech needs more blood. Her regeneration stopped.”

Dia startled.

Had Kiara been keeping an eye on the other member of their group while working on Rick? She scowled, trying to focus on the original claim, to not let herself be distracted. A bond breaking could be a traumatic experience, but there were many doubts about whether it was because of the emotional loss or the actual weight of the shattering.

And yet, some part of her couldn’t help but agree with the idea of the potential threat to Rick’s health.

Expected time of death: fifteen minutes.

His body was shutting down. But with the Succubus draining away the excess, it meant she could heal it properly. It meant she could ensure he’d survive. But there was no way he could tolerate further shock to his system.

Dia turned to the Orcs on their side. “Find me chains, make sure the Succubus can’t escape.” She gestured at Eva. “And make sure that one gets some blood.”

“I will not feed that bloodsucker.” The maiden spat on the ground.

“Then make one of the losers do it.” She snapped back. “Put a cloth on the leech’s mouth and drip the blood into it if you have to.” She gestured at Rick. “If this man dies, Monica will go on a rampage. And I will do everything in my power to make sure she knows it was your fault.”

That proved to be enough. The gathered maidens moved in a rush. Dia also organized the “losers”, informing them on how and where to place the humans, and how to provide basic first aid.

“Don’t you have any healers?”

“They were hit the hardest. They’re barely moving.” One of the tall maidens declared.

“Then bring them here.” Saving a healer saved more lives.

The sound of Kiara’s laugh grated against Dia’s nerves, she turned to glare at the Succubus. Nearby, one of the “enemy” Orcs was made to kneel and had one of her fingers cut off, the spill of blood falling on the bundles of cloth that were to be used to drip-feed the Fledgling.

“So that’s how you got them to obey you, used the cat to beat up everyone who disagreed with you. Well done.”

“Shut up.”

“If you…” She stopped, her hand tensed. “Where’s the Ghoul?”

Dia hesitated. Was this some sort of distraction? “If she’s still around, I don’t know about it.”

“The Ghoul marked Rick.” Kiara said. “I can remove what’s left of the thing, but not while sucking up your healing gunk.”

Expected time of death: thirty-two minutes.

The nurse had almost pulled away from him to have the Succubus remove the mark. “Keep doing it.”

“But-.”

“I said, keep sucking.” She kept the scalpel on the maiden’s throat. “When the Orcs come with the chains, I’ll confirm if he’s marked.”

“If Monica kills that Ghoul, or she gets away…”

She had a point. Dia hated that she had a point. But she would not trust the charmer. “If the Ghoul had left or died, Rick would be dead by now. I lose nothing if you're lying. If you’re telling the truth, then the Ghoul was caught up in the blast and is half-dead somewhere nearby and will be captured.”

Dia lowered herself so they could meet eye to eye.

“You can’t stop helping Rick or he dies.” The nurse intoned coldly. “You can’t fight or Rick dies. You will surrender and allow yourself to be captured.”

The Succubus’ eyes flared with power, and for a moment it looked like she would do something about it. Dia kept her grip on the scalpel tight enough her knuckles had turned white. The two glared at one another.

“And when Rick comes to his senses, I will help him break the bond.” Dia continued, voice cold. “He might even feel lenient enough to let you go rather than kill you.”

The glare remained steady. “You do not want to make me your enemy.”

“Or you will what? Betray us again?”

“No.” Golden eyes stared straight into and through Dia. “I would break you.”

“What do you mean?”

Kiara did not answer; she remained silent. The Orcs came and chained her, leaving only one arm free for her to continue working on Rick. She put no opposition, silently waiting for Dia to confirm that Rick was marked.

It had been a simple thing to do once aware of what to look for. Blood-curses were rare, but not unheard of. There were a couple of Vampire strongholds near the edges of the kingdom after all. It took seconds to confirm it.

It was weak, and the blood-loss had only further weakened the potential damage it could create. But even as weak as it was, Rick would not survive its triggering.

“Remove the mark.” Dia commanded, holding the scalpel tightly as she glanced at the gathered Orcs. “Search the area for Monica and the Ghoul.”

“There is no need.”

The voice came with a deep rumble. The tallest Orc Dia had ever seen stepped into the clearing. Even the maidens on her side parted ways for this maiden that was as tall as Monica.

“Who are you?”

“Urtha.” She sat with a heavy thud. “Former warleader. I would normally declare my surrender to the one called Monica, but she is currently unconscious. She’ll live.”

“The enemy?”

“The Ghoul and Vampire have run off, or hide nearby. I don’t know either way. The surviving blood-suckers that haven’t escaped are being dealt with.” Her gaze fell on Eva.

“None will harm that one.” Dia proclaimed coldly. “If you don’t need healing, get out. I’m busy.”

There was a speck of annoyance on Urtha’s face, but that was as far as it went. She did not move from the spot she’d sat on, and Dia could feel the powerful maiden looking at Rick with an intensity that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on edge.

It didn’t matter.

Rick would survive.

Nothing else was as important.

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