Through the Storm
Gwyn's perspective
I watched as William fell to the ground. Grabbing his arm and throwing it over my shoulder, I dragged him towards the basement door. The world shook even more than before. It was as if the world was ending.
William was coughing profusely. Something was wrong as I noticed tiny black veins surrounding the cut on his cheek. I felt my heart start to race out of fear. But I didn't have time to waste as I brought his body to the basement door. That's when I realized he was unconscious, saliva dripping down from his mouth. His skin was cold to the touch.
Grunting loudly, I swung his unconscious body over the basement entranced. Slowly lowering him, the ground shook violently as I saw a giant boulder had landed outside the house, probably from the mountain.
Fully aware of the danger, I immediately dropped Will into the basement.
Sorry.
I climbed down after and quickly slammed the basement door shut. We were closed off from the outside world. It was as if there were hundreds of earthquakes. I could only pray that everything would be okay.
Climbing farther down, I reached my foot out far out, making sure I didn't step on Will. It was pitch black in the basement as I made contact with the floor. There was supposed to be a lantern somewhere. I extended my arm out towards the blackness. Not finding anything, I reached towards the wall and accidentally kicked William's leg, I believed. His breathing was hoarse as he continued to cough. Dimmal continued to groan in the corner I put him in.
Following the wall in the darkness, I soon found the lantern I sought. I pinched the candle in the lantern using the skill [Fire Starter]. The moment I used it, status magic kicked in as it displayed the skill in front of me. I scoffed in annoyance as the candle was now lit.
It was a basic skill used to start fires. But status magic was getting annoying. I am curious how those summon heroes or kings can use such a thing.
I retracted my hand as parts of the room were no longer shrouded in darkness. I could clearly see where Dimmal was resting. A couple of the shelves and drawers held boxes full of stuff. Due to the earth-shaking, a few items rattled and clanked inside the boxes. I turned my back to some of the darker areas of the basement. William is my biggest concern.
Looking back at Will, I can see the black veins on his face have spread. I saw a black window-like status magic appear above his head.
[Infected]
I quickly ran over to some of the shelves, recalling that I intentionally grabbed some potions that should help. The shelves were covered in dust and cobblestone webs. I looked into the boxes as my heart pounded in my chest, but I kept my calm. I spotted a few potion bottles and herbs, running my hand across each bottle to see if it was what I was looking for.
William kept coughing as he started to wheeze. I continued to search each bottle, and the status magic assisted me by showing me the names of each potion: mana potion, healing potion, Estus bottle, and so much more. I grew frustrated as Will's cough kept getting worse.
Where is it?!
Grimacing as I threw a box out of my way, I looked into another box, then another.
Then another.
The Cure Disease potion is missing. I know I had one for this moment—the one I have been waiting for all this time—to make sure William lives.
Anger wilded up in me as I couldn't find the potion. Grunting as I opened each drawer, I started to panic, making a mess of the basement. My heart was slamming in my chest, and I huffed loudly as I rechecked each potion. Out of anger, I threw one of the potions at the wall.
"Where is it!?!" I yelled.
Will is supposed to be infected today, so I had a potion. Why isn't it here?
"Gwyn..." I heard. The voice was weak, barely a whisper. I turned to see Dimmal holding something in his hand. I ran over to it, pushing everything out of my way as I stumbled towards it. It was the Cure Disease potion. My status magic even indicated it to be so. "It won't..."
I took the potion before he could even finish, not caring what he would say. All that mattered was saving my son.
Running over to William, I scooped him into my arms and dragged him away from the ladder leading back up to the living room. His skin was cold as the black veins spread across his sickened, pale face. I was scared.
Afraid.
With shaking hands, I popped the cork off the potion and brought it to his lips, pouring its contents into Will's mouth. Some of it sipped out of his mouth and down his cheek. But most went down his throat. As soon as the bottle was empty, I tossed it to the side. The sound of broken glass echoed throughout the basement as I held Will close. His coughing began to subside, and his breathing grew calmer. I sighed in consolation, watching the black veins slowly fade away. I knew having that Cure Disease potion on hand would be worth it. I even made it myself to ensure it's even more effective than an ordinary one.
My relief soon faded as Will started to cough again, groaning in pain as the black veins began to spread even more.
Why isn't it working?
"Why is it not working?" I yelled out, tears starting to burrow out of my eyes.
"It was a Gravewalker who infected him," Dimmal said weakly but clearly enough. "Once a Gravewalker infects someone, it's over."
That blighted giant? It can't. It cannot be. But he said if I bring Will here, he would live. It has to work. It can't be true.
"Fight it, Will, you have to," I pleaded, shaking him, begging him to fight. Tears dripped down my eyes as my worst fears were happening. The worst fear that I knew was going to happen that I tried to prevent.
I watched as the black veins slowly spread across Will's face as I held him in my arms, helpless. Powerless. I hated it. I hated it all. I hate this world, I hate this country, I hate everyone.
He's all I have. All we had left. I can't lose him.
I begged—to Will, my king, and the world—to please spare my son. I can't lose him like I lost Cira.
If anyone was listening, they didn't answer.
I pressed my forehead against Will's, knowing he would become a Blightfiend.
"Mr Hunter," Dimmal spoke as he stood up, leaning against the wall. "You have to kill him."
"No," I answered, holding Will in my arms. My eyes widen in horror as a black, inky vein runs over his skin, slowly making its way up his cheek.
I would rather die than kill my own son.
"It's okay, Will," I spoke, my voice hoarse as tears poured down. "Your father's right here."
I held him close as I heard the sound of a sword being picked up. I didn't care as I cradled my son, only for a coo to be overheard. It was a soft, gentle coo noise as something approached. A golden light shimmered in the far dark corner, too dim to see what was coming closer. Its cooing was shifting into a purring sound. Soon, whatever creature it was came into sight.
The golden light that was shimmering came from its scales. It was small, almost like a dog.
A dragon.
The dragon had four small, dull golden horns that matched its scales, adorned on its head like a crown. The horns matched its curious eyes as it approached us. Its wings were folded nicely and elegantly to its side, showing more of its golden hide that shimmered brightly in the darkness. It was as if the darkness couldn't smother its golden light. A twin row of tiny, jagged dorsal spines ran down the dragon's neck and tail. The dorsal spines were connected by a thin webbing that vibrated with each step the dragon took. The whole dorsal spine shook softly with each quick and cautious step. Its small four legs carried its body closer and closer to me and Will. Its golden metallic scales grew brighter.
I could almost hear it purring and cooing as it approached us. No, not us, to Will.
"Get back," I yelled, swinging my arm at it.
It didn't care, as it slithered underneath my arm and touched Will. Its nose twitched gently, scrunching up as it pressed against Will's cheek. I wanted to push it away, but a soft golden light appeared on Will, and the black veins immediately vanished.
Will greedily sucked in air, gasping in relief as his in return to its natural color, and a small scar went down his cheek. I smiled in hope as the infected words displayed above him from the status magic soon disappeared. I chuckled loudly as I held onto Will even tighter.
He was right. He does live.
I turned to the dragon, who looked up at me with curiosity in its eyes. "Thank you," I said clearly as day, forcing whatever made my voice weak and hoarse backdown. The dragon looked at me, and its golden eyes showed intelligence that I may never understand. Nor did I care to understand. All that matters is that Will is safe.
"That's a dragon," Dimmal said abruptly. I turned my head slowly to him, glaring at him as he looked at the dragon in shock. T en to me.
Then to his sword.
Then back at me.
The once sharp-looking Dragon Lord was now a former husk of himself. His eyes looked dead and lifeless, hollowed inward as he glared right at me.
I immediately jumped off the ground, letting go of William as I pulled the dragon behind me. Dimmal reached for his sword as I moved, but I was already on him. I lunged at him the moment he swung his sword at me. Ducking under his sword swing, I threw my right arm under his arm, wrapping it around his neck as I lifted him off the ground. Slamming him down on the ground, his sword fell out of his hand as he wrestled against me. However, I locked my arms around him as he struggled.
Dimmal was stronger than me, though. Eventually, I was thrown off of him. But that was his mistake.
Dimmal may be a Dragon Lord, but he is too reliant on the Dragon Force and his dragon. I threw myself right back on him, shoving him into shelving.
The gold dragon squealed as I got behind Dimmal, wrapping my arm around his neck and locking him in place. Pulling my arm up as tight as I can, wrapping my hands together into a tight grip as I choke him out. He tried to use his strength to get out. I quickly kicked his knee out, forcing him to the ground as I pulled him up on me. Wrapping my legs around his legs so he can't escape.
He struggled more and more, managing to lift me off the ground and slam me back down. My eyes were filled with stars whenever my head felt the ground, but I didn't give in. This ain't my first rodeo. I owe that dragon everything now, and I'll be damned to let someone kill it.
But I also knew better.
"Dimmal, listen!" I yelled out. Snorting hard, he tried to snap my arm, but I channeled my magic into it so that wouldn't happen. "Your soul is damaged from the death of your dragon. You can't stop me. You are powerless. You won't survive long outside."
He continues to squirm as his face turns red. Struggling as he tries to exhale, attempting to suck in any oxygen he can.
"Stop resisting, and I'll let you go," I demanded. "Please."
I didn't want to kill him. He was someone William actually looked up to, but I will if I have to. That dragon is bonded to Will, and it just saved his life from fate.
Dimmal slowly stopped resisting, letting go of my arm as if he were wishing for death. But I wasn't going to grant his wish. I let go of him as he inhales loud, sucking in as much air as possible. I huffed hard from the little wrestling match we just had. But I wasn't tired or exhausted. I was emotionally drained. Too drained to let this guy lay on me.
"Get off of me," I scolded him as I pushed Dimmal off of me.
He wheezed as I made myself over to Will. The dragon stayed close to Will as I pulled him away from where me and Dimmal wrestled. He continues pants hard as he slumped onto the shelve until he finally collapsed.
"The Order will have both of your heads when they find out about this," he said exhaustedly. He coughed painfully, and his throat must have ached from me choking him.
"We leaving anyway," I uttered, glaring at him.
Do it. I want to see you try.
Dimmal grunts, "Do what you want, I don't care."
I sighed in relief as I gently lay Will on the ground. Looking around at our supplies, I thought about making a bed for Will. We have basic food jars that I usually seal up for storage.
What to do till when Will wakes up?
A mirror caught my attention as I looked at myself. My eyes were red from crying earlier and sunken back into my eye sockets. My hair wasn't slicked back like it usually was. I reluctantly ran my fingers through my hair, slicking it back as my beard turned grey.
I sighed loudly out of stress.
It's going to be a rough night.