My chest burns. The only sound bouncing off the walls is my incessant coughing. I crawl out of the water before collapsing against the wall, finally calming down, and for a time, there is just my heavy breathing.
I turn my gaze to the right—that side is flooded; it is also where I washed up. To my left, the tunnel runs somewhere into the darkness. There is no one else. I am alone.
We must have got separated when Mami Wata took us away. But where exactly? I can observe that this tunnel was not naturally formed; the walls are too smooth. It is not my people's handiwork, though. If this is a completely different cave system, where does it lead, and how can I get back to the others?
"I hope everyone is alright," I whisper, and my voice echoes despite how small it had been.
If it had not been for Mami Wata, that giant would have killed us all. I know this truth with certainty.
That was… that was a Nephilim, wasn't it? It should not be possible—No. It can't be possible…
They are supposed to be a myth. Boogeymen in children's stories. T-they are not supposed to be real. No, no, no, no…
Is this the evil Tchio sent me to purge? Is the boy mad? How could he ever think I could deal with this?!
This is a nightmare. Why did I agree to any of it? I should have just stayed in Asso and waited for Zaylany and Sabar to wake up. I should have waited for my people to wake up, so that someone with better skills for this situation could deal with it. Now we are all going to die, and it is my fault.
We shouldn't have come here.
What should I do? What can I do?
No, no, no. Calm down… I have to calm down.
I get back on my feet on trembling legs.
I-I… I must find the others first.
My eyes fall to the pool where my staff drifts. I wade forward, fingers tightening around its familiar weight. Drawing in several steady breaths, I channel my essence, and the staff glows—its light spilling into the shadows, a fragile beacon against the void. I walk over to the body of water where my staff is floating. Clenching my hold on it, and after taking several deep breaths, I channel my essence, and my staff glows.
"Alright, I can do this."
I hardly make ten steps before the whole tunnel trembles. I yelp and fall to my knees. The quake is so fierce that the walls and floor heave in a violent rhythm. I stay crouched on the ground, knees drawn tight to my chest, arms clamped over my ears, bracing against the chaos.
The earthquake raged for several minutes in succession before everything suddenly went still.
I relax my posture and look around. "Is it over now?"
Then, without warning, the water on the flooded side of the tunnel becomes agitated. I leap to my feet and retreat as waves surge forward, and I am left stunned by who the waves washed off.
"Ike?" I practically sprint to him—just as he wobbles to his feet. "Ike! Thank goodness you are here. What happened—" I am gasping when he straightens up.
A deep diagonal laceration stretches from his left shoulder to his right hip, the flesh split with surgical precision, and fresh blood seeps out.
"Vyswe'eyaga," he groans, then forces a smile despite the evident pain. "Hello there."
"Y-you are bleeding!"
I try to get under his arm to help him up, but he doesn't budge and shakes his head. "I could accidentally crush you right now. Don't worry, I can stand on my own."
He staggers up and collapses against the wall a couple of steps later, his face twisted in agony. I fidget with his clothes, slowly unbuttoning his jacket and shirt. The full magnitude of his injury is uncovered, and I breathe in sharply.
"It's not as bad as it looks."
It is as bad as it looks. The wound is deep—his hand on his abdomen is the only thing preventing his organs from spilling out. The very fact that he is still breathing at all is mind-boggling.
"Y-you can heal, right? Are you going to be alright? Is there something I can do?" I don't have anything to apply first aid, but if I don't do something, his wound will get infected, and he will die.
"Don't panic, milady, I will heal—" His grin turns into a wince. "It's just… taking longer than expected."
"What happened to you?"
"Well…" he diverts his gaze, and a dreadful suspicion settles over me.
"Please… please tell me you didn't stay there," I breathe, "Tell me you did not stay and fight a godforsaken Nephilim!"
His silence is an answer in itself.
"Why?!"
"I wanted to help in holding off that guy… Maybe kill him if I get the chance. I suppose I bit off more than I could chew." He chuckles but ends up in a bloody coughing fit. "But from the state he was in when Mami Wata shooed me away, he shouldn't be alive for too long."
I cannot even begin to fathom how—why he thought he could rival a Nephilim in combat. I know he is sharp enough to gauge just how mighty the Nephilim is; that is why I don't understand why he did it anyway.
"—Wait. Did you say he was dead?! The… the Nephilim?"
"Pretty close to it—he was in a far worse state than I am. I just hope Mami Wata managed to kill him. Oh, and thank you, Vyswe'eyaga; had it not been for your medallion, I would be dead right now."
My stomach twists strangely, and I shake my head, frowning. "I clearly did not make that good of a job if this is the state you ended up in."
"You did a great job," his head sways forward. He looks at me like I am the most wonderful thing in the world. "Thank you so much."
"I-I… ahem… let me take a look at your wound." He said that it was taking longer than usual to heal. Given that a Nephilim inflicted it, there is no doubt that this wound is nothing ordinary.
I use my Gaze to see what could be wrong, but Ike suddenly grips my forearm.
"Can you… maybe warn me… before doing that? It tickles."
I stare bewildered at him. "Oh… Ah, umm," I cough to hide my embarrassment. "My apologies." So, he does sense it when I use my Gaze on him. "Would you allow me to use my Spiritual senses on you?"
A faint smile blooms on his paling face, then he gestures to his bloody torso as if he were offering it to me. "Help yourself." As if the sight of his bloodied and mangled entrails should evoke some reaction out of me. I throw him a scolding glare, telling him clearly how unfunny the situation is. He gives me a lopsided grin as I focus back on his state.
What I see with my Gaze chills me, and Ike observes me warily when he sees my face fall.
"What do you see?"
"You have been poisoned, of sorts. That thing… it somehow polluted your wound with its essence, and it has begun slowly spreading throughout your body—it is contaminating your essence streams."
"It's contaminating my essence, you say? That doesn't sound very reassuring."
Shivers run through my body—what will be of him if this continues? Ike grips my arm, calling my name. "I… It is just a conjecture, but… You might end up tainted? I sensed something similar in Mami Wata when she was a junju. Anyway, if we let this be, you will either die from organ failure or the corruption will completely overtake your essence and…" I pause, not liking the ideas that I have. "Can humans turn into junjus, Ike?"
His jaw draws tight. "Not that I know of… No."
This is too concerning.
"Can you heal it?" he asks.
"N-no, I'm… I am not a healer—this is way out of my expertise."
"What about what you did with Mami Wata? That fire you gave her… she said she would use it to save her daughters, yes?"
"I…"
I stare at my hands. How can I summon that power again? I know I unintentionally did something with Mami Wata, but I have no idea how to reproduce the feat.
Ike's palm clenches on my hand, and he looks at me with absolute confidence. "You can do it."
I brace myself and rest my hands on his chest, each hand on either side of the wound.
Please. Help me heal him.
Nothing happens for several seconds. I bit inside my cheek in dejection. Of course… what was I expecting?
But then, my hands suddenly burst into flames. It worked?! I stare at my hands in utter shock before I remember what I am supposed to do and focus back on the task at hand.
The effect is immediate. Upon contact, the white flames completely cleanse Ike's body of the foreign essence, burning it out of existence.
A moment later, the flames extinguish themselves when the corrupted essence has been purged entirely. Contrary to my expectations, Ike's wound has not healed—the diagonal slash is still fresh and haemorrhaging.
"I feel better now. I should be able to heal completely in a while," he sighs.
"Are you sure? Should we not at least cover it with something?"
He leans against the wall and closes his eyes. "There is no need."
"A-alright." I hold my knees close to my chest and wait, then a second later, I turn to Ike—who still has his eyes closed—to observe him. His face is already gaining back its colour. I lower my gaze to his wound, and I am stunned to see how fast it is healing. I can see his blood vessels and muscle tissue mending themselves in record time. It is not as fast as how the Nephilim did it, but it is impressive, nonetheless.
How fascinating.
"You sure are very interested in my body, milady."
I jolt away, having just realised how close I have got. "Oh, I'm sorry, I did not mean to—" His smug face stops me short. "You oaf!" I yell, slapping his arm.
"Ouch," he cradles his arm closer. "How can you be so violent with an injured person?" Then he sighs dramatically. "And here you made me believe you were a gentle person. I am betrayed."
I roll my eyes. "I did no such thing, sir; you made that idea up all on your own." He tilts his head slightly, a fond smile at the edge of his lips, then his expression darkens out of the blue. "What? What is it?"
"I…" he hesitates, "I came so close to losing you… Twice."
I pause, more than a little taken aback by his choice of words. I feel my heartbeat getting faster. "That is not something you could control," I say carefully.
"I know," he sighs, "I know that, but—it is so damn frustrating. I failed you. I wasn't there when you needed me. I failed to keep you safe… and everyone else, for that matter."
I fold my arms across my chest. "Well, no one expects you to protect everyone all the time—that would be unreasonable—so you should not expect the same."
"That's kind of what I'm paid to do, actually," he says, and I shush him immediately.
"It doesn't make you all-powerful, still. Plus, you saved me from the Nephilim earlier. That counts for something."
He scoffs. "He let me—"
"Whatever it is, you were the first to move when we all stood petrified of him. You were incredible."
He looks at me. "You think so?"
"Yes. So don't be hard on yourself, alright?"
He smiles wistfully. "Very well. Your wish is my command, milady."
My heart skips a bit. He had started to call 'milady' for a while now. I don't know if he did so to tease me or not, but I do not dislike it.
My gaze wanders to his torso—his almost entirely healed torso.
"Wow," I gasp, leaning closer. My hand grazes his chest, slowly running my fingers along the side of his wound. The scar that has formed is still tender—not fully healed yet, but it has sealed shut. "Your healing factor is astounding."
I flinch when I feel him shiver. I withdraw my hand, but he stops me and presses it tight on his chest, his tawny skin contrasting greatly against my brown one. I feel his heartbeat; it is so very slow and incredibly powerful; I can feel its reverberation travel through my arm and all over my body.
"Can I ask you a question?" I manage to meet his gaze. His eyes are calm, steady—yet within them smoulders a hidden fire that makes my skin feel as though it burns.
"Of course."
I hesitate, momentarily distracted by his calloused fingers playing with mine. "What is this… between us?"
He stays silent for many seconds, his eyes focusing on my fingers. He hums, then gazes back at me. "It can be whatever you want it to be. What do you want?"
I am slightly peeved that he dodged the question and redirected it back at me. Yet, I relinquish. I started this conversation after all. "I am not sure." I bite the corner of my lower lip. "But I do not dislike it… I do admit that I may have developed a… casual interest."
"A casual interest… huh? What an interesting way to put it." He watches me with a playful smile on his face, but it is also a look that hides something more than that. I can't tell what exactly, the way he plays with my fingers and the heat from his chest are very distracting.
"Hmm… casual interest… it irks me the more I think of it." Ike's gaze on me is steady and resolute. "Vyswe'eyaga, allow me to be straightforward with you; I fancy you. A lot. And if you would allow me, I will make sure to change your mind about this… casual interest of yours." He gently presses his lips on my knuckles, and I feel my heart somersault inside of my chest.
"I wonder why you have so much effect on me?" I wonder out loud.
He smirks. "My unequalled charm, I would suggest."
"Hmph, don't flatter yourself. And I will have you know that you are far from being the most handsome man I have seen." He is very attractive, appearance-wise, though he can't compare to people like Teacher and Zaylany… or Kamogne, too. Kayin has this exotic charm to him, as well—mainly due to his unusual appearance—while N'jobu is the most handsome without contest. I don't think I lust after him… not too much.
Truthfully, it feels unreal that he is about the same age as I am; he feels much more mature than I am, and looks much older too—I will say even older than Zaylany. The feeling reminds me of how I felt about Kemfak. It is a bit intimidating.
"Why do you look like you are comparing me with someone else?" He asks, his eyes narrowing.
"Must be your imagination."
He pulls on my arm, and I fall onto his chest. His arms surround my waist when I raise my head. Our faces are so close that I feel his warm breath on my lips.
"I really, really want to kiss you," he whispers, and my heart does another leap in my ribcage. "I have been fixating on it for an unhealthy amount of time."
I swallow hard but manage to calm my tumultuous emotions to rise slightly, creating some distance between us.
"You should know; I am not one to partake in wanton promiscuity."
"I know. I never was under that sort of impression. I was just expressing a desire of mine."
"And this is not exactly the best time for canoodles. You are still hurt anyway," I add.
"One does not prevent the other," he says very seriously.
I look away, feeling my face getting hotter and hotter. "But, uh, I wouldn't mind it, I suppose. There is no harm in a small kiss after all."
"I concur." He leans closer, his voice dropping as his grip around my waist tightens. "No harm at all."
His gaze sears into mine as I tilt toward him. His warmth brushes against me first, the faintest touch of his lips grazing mine, tentative, almost questioning. I answer by closing the distance, pressing into the kiss with a quiet certainty. A shiver runs through me as heat floods my chest. My fingers clutch at him, sliding over the curve of his shoulder, pulling him closer, and his response is immediate.
His hand tangles in my hair, tilting my head back, deepening the kiss until the world dissolves into nothing but the press of his mouth. I release a sound that is not quite my own, raw and unrestrained, which he swallows deep in his throat.
I feel the sweep of his tongue on my lips, and when I open for him, the taste of him overwhelms me—warm and intoxicating and impossible to resist.
A fire it ignites in me, and every nerve in my body sparks alive. His hand cradles the back of my neck, guiding me, and I let myself be carried by the rhythm of our mouths moving together.
I gasp as our lips part, the breath stolen from me, my body trembling as his warm finger traces a line on the bare skin of my thigh—where the fabric had been torn away and left me exposed—his mouth trails from mine, grazing along my jaw before descending to my neck.
"Ike," my voice is lower than a whisper, and I hear him groan. A sharp prickle flares at my neck where his teeth graze, and it melts into shivers as he soothes the spot with the slow caress of his tongue. He moves up, peppering kisses along the slope of my ear.
"I-Ike… it tickles." I manage between breathless giggles.
He jerks back, eyes wide. "It tickles?"
"Your stubble… the way it grazed my neck. I-I am a bit ticklish there, you see?"
He stares blankly before releasing a raw laugh. "Of all things.. this had to be what you preferred?"
"N-no, it's not like that. I liked the, umm, kisses very much too. I promise."
"You are just… something else, Vyswe'eyaga," he says in a low laugh, then rests his forehead on mine, and sighs.
A comfortable silence settles between us as we remain there—two breaths mingling, content in the stillness.
"There is something else I want to ask." He nods and I continue, "You have… felt this way for me for some time now, right? Then why did you become distant with me after," my stomach twists, "after we left Dalisso's lair."
He blinks several times, then tilt his head. "I thought you were the one avoiding me. You wouldn't even look at me in the eye, and you became agitated whenever I got close to you... When I think back on it; I must have come on too strong, didn't I? I'm sorry, I just can't seem to keep my hands off you at times." He sighs, "That is why I thought it would be best to leave you your space. I did not want to overwhelm you."
"…Oh."
I had not seen things in that light.
"Vyswe'eyaga, I… want to do this right. So, when this is all over, I would really like to take you somewhere—spend time with you in a… less deadly environment. What do you say?"
I can't stop the stupid grin from rising on my face. "I would love to."
He smiles too before his face becomes serious. "Now, how do we proceed from here, milady?"