Winter gets on a knee, brushing leftover ice shards off her body along with dust from the impact. The smell is so strong that it’s making her nauseous. It was like hundreds of decaying bodies were in her presence, a smell she’s quite familiar with on Divon in her line of work as a notable huntress. But this? It was so different. It was more akin to that smell individuals emitted when they were ill.
“I can’t see for shit down here. Even the damn hole above me is sealed. Well, isn’t that just great?”
“I’d really kill to have Neil’s night vision. Why is the smell even worse down here?” The blonde finally composes herself, standing upright and grabbing her hood once more to place it over her face. Naturally, she’d keep it on. If she has anything falling on her from above, she’d prefer if the hood was on. She tries to see, only finding pure darkness still. “Guess I’ll just feel my way around here then.”
Winter begins her journey through the darkness, placing her fingerless gloved hand across the rocky wall. Her fingers shuffle along it, feeling every dent, every groove, and any dampened area. It isn’t until she finally laces her fingers across something that feels oddly flesh-like. Was it a carcass? Muscle? She goes wide-eyed, unsure of what exactly she brushed her hand over. Upon further feeling, she can tell that there were bones, a ribcage of sorts that felt like it was shredded. They faced outwards, as if something had bursted out of them. Even the mushy sounds of gore could be heard underneath her worn boots. Taking her hand off, despite lack of vision, Winter clicks her fingertips to the other to try and rub the substance for better inspection. With the foul scent infiltrating her olfactory, any type of sense of smell needed for inspection was rendered useless.
“What the fuck?! I’m dead positive I just touched a corpse. I think I’m just gonna stay off the walls for now…” Winter’s head shoots up in the direction of what sounds like a little girl coughing. It meant someone was alive, and not too far away.
I have no clue who I’m jogging towards but it sounds like a little girl. She might know how to get me out of here.
Winter couldn’t make out the words being said between the faint coughing, but if they knew what was going on, it would better her chances of finding a way out of this hole. “Hello? Hey! Whoever you are, I’m comin’ for you!”
She dashes fast, her black boots pounding into bloodied soil beneath her, a panicked expression rushing across her face in the darkness. As she runs, the coughing becomes louder, more apparent. If it’s Prayers, she needs to be cautious, in case this was another deadly trap that awaited the Winterlance. Her fingertips align with a solid ice claw, salient edges ripe for tearing through any type of flesh or bone if danger dares to cross her.
Just as soon as Winter’s hastily thought finishes a blue light appears in the distance. It was ominous, mysterious, and intriguing. The huntress approaches closer, her arms falling to her sides as she blinks a few times before she registers it’s a young girl. She’s decorated in an elaborate Cloaks Tribesfolk dress sitting on the ground in front of a metal door with lettering on it that Winter couldn’t recognize. Winter allows the ice attached to her arm to fall off before further approaching.
“Hey! Are you okay?” Her words had gotten the young girl’s attention, seeing her head turn and look upon the huntress with pure white eyes. She’s a Cloaks, as that was a distinct trait of theirs.
“Please…Help me…” The young girl pleads.
Winter’s hand reaches over to place it on the girl’s shoulder, a form of comfort to offer the young female.
“Don’t worry, I’ll help you, kid. Just–” Winter cuts herself off as soon as she gets a closer inspection to the girl’s face. The huntress is horrified. Was this an illness? The girl was bleeding profusely from her mouth, watching as more ichor spilled with each cough hesitantly emitted. There were dark patches splattered across her skin, almost as if they were some type of tumor infecting her body. Winter removes her hand, unaware of what this was or what was happening.
“What happened to you…?” The Winterlance leans over, still keeping distance.
“They offered me to something called 'Biohazard'. They threw me in here…” she coughs, wheezing in between her responses. “They told me someone named Demi-God could help me.”
“Who?” The horrified look on Winter’s face only intensifies.
“The Prayers.” She lets out another wheeze, reaching up to wipe the blood from her left ear.
“Hey…Are you Princess Aress?” Winter cocks her head slightly.
If this was really the princess, then this would be a problem for Winter. She accepted a contract, but if this princess was quite ill, there’s no way she could bring the girl back to King’s Court like this. Winter doubts Aress could even survive a trip through the desert of Daggermouth, let alone all the way through Matrum. Not without a Blazerock wanting to take her head. After all, the Blazerocks and Cloaks were enemies. Their conflict is far more than a trivial problem, as a war could break out at any moment between the tribes.
“Not anymore.” Aress sighs weakly in her response. Her body hunches over, obviously exhausted. The girl looks more defeated as she speaks. The huntress extends her knee out and rests and arm around her, something to at least comfort the girl. Aress lays against Winter, her chest heaving as she struggles to take normal breaths. “...My father, King Uthar disowned me to the Prayers.”
“What do you mean he disowned you?”
Why the hell would King Uthar get rid of his own daughter? A possible future Tribe Leader?
“My father…He traded me to the Demi-God for supplies for an upcoming war against the Blazerocks. I wasn’t good enough for him.” The teenager coughs, falling over from her body’s fatigue. Winter catches the young female, holding her close. Winter knows she isn’t looking too good.
“I’ll get you out of here. We just have to go through the door, right?” Her fuchsia eyes swivel towards the direction of glowing cyan and letters she couldn’t understand. It had to be some kind of power, magic, something mystifying, or a hint that this was a Lair of the Gods.
“Yes…But it’s sealed.”
Winter lays Aress down gently against the rocky wall, making sure she’s at least somewhat comfortable. If there’s a chance that this Demi-God could actually help Aress, it’s worth breaking into whatever that glowing door is.
“Ever met a Winterlance before?” Winter states with a smirk on her face.
“No…”
“Well…in that case–” Winter cuts herself off, reaching her right arm outwards, watching as rock hard ice decorates along her fingertips once more. It quickly spreads, coming out of the woman’s pores and attaching itself firmly to each fiber of her skin. Her arm becomes aligned with ice, jarring outwards into other spikes of ice. The cyan lights reflect off of her encased arm, shimmering off her sheer ice claws with a deadly beauty.
“--Lemme show you what a Winterlance is capable of!”
Comments (1)
See all