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Chapter 235
🕑 Added 2024-10-12 05:09:34 +0000 UTC“Nievtala devour the bastard’s soul, may his hunts end in failure, may Narsha’at poison his blood and Huldtar scorch his eyes…” I cursed the nanuk in every way I could think of in every language I knew as I sprinted over to my fallen friend. Looking down, Took shuddered and struggled for breath, but she remained barely alive.
“Victory… by–”
“I’ll knock you unconscious myself before I let you finish that.” I cut her off as I turned to several of the hatchlings and Foire. “Run down to the swarm. Get Vefir to start coming up here as we descend.” The hatchlings stood, frozen for a moment, but Foire didn’t hesitate. “GO!” I roared at the hesitating children and they startled before nodding and sprinting down the way towards the valley in Foire’s steps towards where the swarm was. “You stay!” I commanded the stumbling female who’d barely managed to rise to her feet after her magical manifestations.
“Ok. Ok. Silf, I need you to press hard on the wound. The entire wound. Keep the blood from all running out. Joral, Ytte, try to clear a way so we can move more smoothly and quickly. You, cut the densest, longest, cleanest fur you can from the nearest goat. Now, little girl, your part is the most important.” The hatchling looked at me, confused. “I need you to sear the wound shut.”
She didn’t understand. She tried to, but couldn’t. “No, no, no, I can’t do that. I’ll kill her.”
“No, you’ll save her life. It’ll keep her from bleeding out as we carry her down.”
“I… I.. I’ll hurt her. I can’t control my flames like that. It’ll burn everything. I’ve never used them before today, and I’m too tired. I couldn’t do what you need me to.”
“No, you’ll be fine. Now do it and save her life.”
With a shuddering breath, the child conjured up a flame, too weak to sear Took’s wound shut. “Hotter!” A small increase, but still not enough. “HOTTER OR I’LL THROW YOU OFF THIS CLIFF!” Suddenly a gout of flame shot into the air, uncontrolled, and then it just as quickly died out as she gasped and collapsed to the ground, sobbing. I hissed my frustration, and very nearly did what I’d threatened. The little girl began hyperventilating, panicking as I approached, and Nievtala’s voice came over me.
Calm.
With just the barest hint of the Goddess’s presence, I forced the panic from my mind. Nievtala withdrew herself with a vague sense of confidence, and I steeled myself. My mind made and without thinking any further, I extended my right hand’s claws as far as I could as I fastened my scales all together.
“What’s your name, little one?”
“Hala.” She whimpered.
“Hala, keep the flame as steady and hot as possible. Don’t worry about where, just do it.” I spoke and channeled [Innervating Address], and Hala, to her credit, breathed deep and summoned a sharp pillar of flame. Without waiting further, I plunged my prepared right hand into the fire.
I’d known that it would be agonizing, but my formless prayers had hoped that my claws would hold up in the heat and that they could then cauterize the wounds well enough. My flesh bubbled under the flames as I held my hand in the fires and Hala began to quench the flames as she panicked. Before the fire could die out again, I barked out, “NO! Keep it up, try to concentrate the flame!” Before long, my petty hopes were drowned out in sheer agony, my fingertips initially withstanding the heat, but as my claws became superheated themselves, so too did the heat conduct itself deeper into my bones.
This consuming, mind-ripping pain was different from when my shoulder had been ripped apart. That was a throbbing agony, one that had dulled my senses of everything else. This pain kept amplifying itself long after I thought it had hit the final threshold for torturous torment. I could feel my skin crackle under my scales, my blood beginning to boil and bubble just like my skin that wasn’t exposed to the heat directly, my bones aching and my mind couldn’t focus on anything else than the burning hell that was my hand. Then, I stopped feeling my fingers, the agony continuing to crawl further up my arm.
I could take the suffering no longer and removed my hand from the flames as I called for Silf to move and give me access to the wound. He scrambled away and I saw the ripped flesh and a deep gouge that carried through three of Took’s ribs, exposing a lung, shuddering with her every breath. The second the pressure came off, blood began to pool in the cavity, flowing freely from a large artery that was exposed and torn through. Without another second’s thought, I pressed a claw against the artery and pressed it against Took before she jerked uncontrollably in reaction to the searing sensation.
Took, the never complaining and ever stoic, whimpered. I thought I heard her whisper something about Oncli as I gestured for Silf and a couple others to hold her down and prevent her from writhing away from the searing, possibly healing pain. My second claw pressed into the artery and again Took jerked away, but the four bodies holding her down prevented her from moving enough to prevent the cauterization from happening. The smell of burning flesh filled my nostrils, and again Took cried out in pain. She was losing consciousness, and in her delirium, she lacked her usual self-control. With my other two claws I seared the most afflicted areas I could, but it wasn’t everything. The male whose name I didn’t know appeared, his arms full of long white goat fur.
“Silf, pack the wounds tight with the fur then retain that pressure on it. We’re moving now. The rest of you, help him carry Took, keep her from twisting and moving around as best as you can. Keep her from bleeding out. Now go. Keep an eye on whatever the best route is.”
I couldn’t focus on the journey after that–my mind was too consumed with the agony from my hand and occupied with trying to keep myself steady with my burst eardrums. Hala was continuously mumbling apologies to me, which I nodded my head to accept while continuing to hustle down the mountain as best as I could. Silf quietly spoke to Took about how Treel had died in this way, so Took didn’t need to. It didn’t make sense to me, but maybe it was just my mental state. The rest of the pack was quiet but hurried, following Joral and Ytte’s path as best as they could while Took mumbled in pain, nothing that made any sense.
I focused as best as I could on Took’s condition, and, sure enough, she went silent about halfway down the slope.
“Took, stay with me! Talk!”
Nothing.
“Took! Say something!”
Silence.
“TOOK!”
“Vic…tory…” Then nothing more.
No no no, wake up! I wanted to stop, to try something, but it was best to get her even a second sooner to one of our two healers. “HURRY!”
It was an excruciatingly long ten or so minutes before we came in contact with Vefir and Etra. Vefir was visibly panicked, guided by Joral and Foire. Etra came not far behind, panting but putting in obvious effort. We settled Took onto the ground as both began to push their magic into her unresponsive body.
One minute… Two minutes… Five minutes… No response.
I could feel tears beginning to form at the corners of my eyes. Another of my pack, my friends… dead. With an effort of will, I began to call magic to my throat, wanting to scream my rage to the skies, when–
“Victory… by fang… and blood.”
