When Evelda finally awoke she distinctly remembered having the most horrific nightmare. Nothing she could completely recall but skin splitting pain and burning hot and cold spasms played a big part in what she could recall. The redhead coughed and wondered when was the last time she had something to drink. Her tongue darted out and did little to moisten her lips. She felt cold, like she did in the past when she collapsed from fatigue in the field and the cold of the night had crept into her bones. Her left side of her body felt the caress of a nearby fire so she turned her face towards it to warm her.
That was a mistake.
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!” Her bloodshot hazel eyes snapped open as her whole body punished her for moving with painful spasms. Everywhere burned hot and jolts of pain tore through her.
“Wha? ‘velda? Shit. You’re not supposed to be awake yet!” On her right side she heard the voice of her oppressor and master. What was Turuk doing here? What had he done to her? Where was she? Why had he done this? Evelda cried out like banshee as he began slathering her body with something that felt like wet mud. At first the pressure of the brush he used to paint her with the thick gunk made her vision blur from the pain. The barest touch seemed to burn her. Evelda thrashed and tried to push him away. As soon as she found the strength to turn her head to look at him he took hold of her flailing wrists and stared down into her eyes.
Maker…that’s…what he looks like…
“I know it hurts, but you must remain still. The sooner the poultice is applied the sooner the numbing extract can quell the pain. I was airing your wounds so the enchanted incense could speed up your recovery. My spell to keep you asleep seems to have worn off sooner than I would have liked. Your instinct is to stop me hurting you, but the more you move the more damage you will cause. Remain still, allow me to soothe your wounds and you will start to feel better.” Turuk took her frozen state as her having understood him. So he nodded and released her hands to retrieve his mixing bowl and brush. As he got back to painting her chest with a thick mint coloured paste Evelda clenched her teeth to bare the pain. Her body would tense and flinch under the necessary assault, but she remained as still as possible. All the while she never stopped staring up at her master.
Dark grey skin, long black hair that would make Valdis jealous for its thickness and sheen, orange and red eyes with black pupils and sclera. White teeth with a hint of a point on each one, thin lips and a defined jaw. His hair hung in long curtains with bangs at either side of his face and the rest hung down his back. A small pair of horns sat upon his head. They were thick at the base and curved backwards with the natural shape of his skull. The ends curved under ever so slightly and he wore silver bands just before each point. What was even more curious than the oddly beautiful appearance of the demon, was how determined he looked as he tended to her wounds. Now that the poultice was starting to take effect she was able to relax against the table she was laid on. “You’re staring.” His black eyebrow raised but he didn’t stop what he was doing. Her chest was totally covered, as was her torso to her navel. He was now painting her neck and shoulders with it.
“I…” She croaked and began coughing, which hurt far more than breathing ever should.
“It’s alright. Don’t try to talk. Conserve your strength for the recovery process.” At last he finally returned her gaze and frowned. “I don’t sleep in my cloak. I will put it back on once I am done.” Evelda tried to object but he snarled at her and pointed at her face with the paintbrush. “I told you not to talk.” Wincing Evelda didn’t even dare nod. Even the smallest of movements sent ripples of pain through her. She stared at the hand pointing the brush and saw they were not as monstrous as the gauntlets he wore led you to believe. They looked strong and each finger looked supple enough to wield any weapon or spell. But other than his dark grey skin and slightly paler nails they were normal hands. No claws or spikes in sight. Turuk rolled his eyes and scooped more poultice onto his brush. “I suppose you were wound to wake up at some point. After all this time I’m actually surprised you haven’t come to before now.” The look in her eyes must have spoken for her, as Turuk paused his painting of her left arm to roll his eyes and answer her. “You’ve been unconscious here, in my dungeon for two weeks. Coming back from death is no easy or swift feat.” Evelda rasped in her throat as she gasped in shock. “You do remember using yourself as a battering ram and barrier on Freydis’ behalf on Fødsel, do you not?”
Then it came back to her like he’d pulled the wool from over her eyes. Of course. Lars chased us into Turuk’s glade. I thought for sure he’d sense us there. I thought he either couldn’t or didn’t care, so I did my best to protect Freydis. All she did was cry and cower on the floor. I thought…I thought he killed me… “I see you do. Good. At least you will understand my rage when you are well enough to receive it.” Turuk snarled, marring his beautiful face and making her tremble. “Not only did you trespass on my sanctuary again, tearing up the place as you fought and clawed at the floor, splattering blood over my flowers, but you got yourself so close to death I had to use all of my most rare and expensive ingredients to cast a very powerful binding spell. After all, if your spirit left your body before I could heal it, what would be the point?” He hissed at her, very put out, and applied slightly more pressure to her forearm that he needed to with the brush. She whimpered, anticipating he would be heavy handed with her from now on, but his brush strokes returned to being gentle. The demon had simply meant to make a point, not torture her. “Some of the roots I used to make this paste alone take centuries to grow. And now they are all gone. Practically priceless herbs. When I will ever get my hands on another unhatched Dragon’s egg?”
Evelda couldn’t do anything but watch as he ranted, all the while covering her body, which she now realised must be naked, with healing salve. The pain was practically gone now. She just felt a dull ache and could no longer move anything other than her neck and head. “Had you been anyone else I would have left you to be fertiliser for my glade, yet because you are under contract to me, I had to heal you. I had no choice.” He sneered down at her and shoved the brush back into the bowl he placed by her head. She didn’t flinch, which he found disappointing, so he folded his arms over his bare chest and continued to glare down at her. “We agreed that I would keep you safe ‘to the best of my ability’ whilst you were under oath to me. I was not aware of your situation, so I could not intervene any earlier than I did. However, as it was within my power to stop you from dying and heal you, I have done so.” He pressed strips of fabric into the bowl to collect a coating of salve and pressed the first across her forehead. “You will live Evelda, but now you must protect yourself.” His sneer twisted into an arrogant smirk he prepared the next strip. Turuk cocked his head to one side as he grinned, making his long black hair sway with the movement. “We agreed you would serve me until I chose my maidens. I have done so. Valdis, Talita and Freydis have all agreed to become mine.” Turuk pressed the next one from her temple, across her cheek, and curved to her chin. “To do with as I see fit.” Evelda’s eyes widened and prickled with fresh tears. He pressed the last one to mirror the second piece and patted her cheek for effect. The sting made her hiss with pain. He did that on purpose. Turuk was still smirking as he brought his hands back to fold over his chest. “So you are a free woman Evelda. Once this salve has done its work, you will be stable and recovered enough to have fulfilled my previous obligation to you. I am no longer required to do anything for you. You therefore can leave whenever you wish and try to make it back to your home.” He cackled, making Evelda realise that he wasn’t as done with her as he made out. The brief flicker of hope she held was soon squashed beneath his boot. “Of course I will catalogue exactly how much you owe me for my expensive and priceless resources used to save your life. Once I have the figure for you, we can discuss how exactly you are going to pay me. Oh and Evelda?” He practically sang as he headed towards the door. This left her to stare up at the stone ceiling and silently cry to herself. “I have a few ideas.”
Slam.
For a long moment Evelda didn’t do anything more than stare up at the ceiling. She counted the cracks and wondered where they were. She couldn’t turn her head, nor did she want to, so she couldn’t confirm her suspicions. He said she was in his dungeon, so that implied a fortress, a castle, a lair, or a house of some sort. So much natural stone like this didn’t speak to them still being in Skygget forest.
Evelda couldn’t distract her mind for long, however. The gravity of her situation pressed down on her more heavily than the hardening paste on her body. Thanks to me my friends are now the playthings of Turuk the shadow demon. Lord of dark magic. I’m free, but he’s going to make me pay him back for saving my life. He knows I have no money or material things beyond what he’s given me, so he’s going to ask for something else. Oh Maker what does he want from me now? If he has chosen his maidens then what possible use could I have for him? What more will he make me do? What can I possibly have that he wants? I’m a peasant girl. Sure I can repair clothing quite well and I can sow and weed a field but other than that I have no other skills. He has his maidens now. I’m no longer useful to him for information…
Despite not having even an inkling as to Turuk’s motives, she knew that whatever he was after, it would be bad.
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