Chapter Fifty-Eight: Awake

After the battle's conclusion, hundreds of orcs' bodies turned to specs of light, as they became Jantyr's property. But even then, there was much to clean up. Falken laid left and right, walls of flesh remained, but many would never be recovered. Orcs and Falken had been used to fuel the sacrifice, a tremendous price.

Many families would never get a body to bury, instead they'd have an empty grave as a memory.

A massive graveyard was commissioned to be built, as Falkens left and right came and buried their loved ones. They got financial support for their mourned ones and were able to get them graves for free.

The worst part of it all was the stagnation. The village was in ruins and little had been done to fix it as of yet. No one was in the mood, or had the time to start to rebuild. Jasmine was still out of the picture, Lenart was mourning his brother's death and Howard couldn't do everything alone.

…

Jantyr had shown his new form to Howard, who immediately started the construction of a statue of him in the midst of the graveyard, so that their deity could watch over the dead. A noble thought, which put many villagers at ease.

Weeks went by and wounds closed; but the scars would remain. The village was cleared from the rubble and a project of reconstructing the wall and the many houses took form.

Eventually the day came: jasmine regained consciousness.

~Pov Jasmine~ (First Person)

I woke up feeling nauseous; my whole body was aching like crazy. It felt as if thousands of ants were biting me beneath my skin. My vision was hazy and I could barely move.

Above me reeked of death, literally. The magic felt contaminated, impure even. But that wasn't the worst of it, I could sense a tendril of my own mana connected to the contamination. Worst part, it was the same. I was the same.

I struggled to lift my stiff arm, slowly raising it to the edge of my vision. Within the blur of my sight I saw a pale white arm, like the sun had abandoned it for centuries. The mark I got from the diary at the ruins was shining an eerie red, lighting up the darkness around me.

"Greetings my Lady, Jasmine Marth." a raspy voice sounded, making me flinch. I slowly turned my head to the source of the sound, coincidently the same place the contaminated mana was located.

As the blur subsided, I was greeted by a blue fire, burning brightly around a floating skull. Vague memories of what had transpired slammed into me, as I clutched my head.

"Jantyr has blessed you with a ritual, apparently the two of you had it prepared. You never became a lich, you're simply a dark magician, a pity. If you were to become a lich, your powers would increase exponentially." the floating skull rambled, as reality slowly sunk in.

In haste I sat up. But my actions were less than appreciated by my sour body. The pain came in full force, making me spasm in place.

"Your body and soul are still mending their connection, any hasty movements will be very painful, my lady." it said.

I saw its bone jaw move up and down as it talked, sound even coming from its mouth. 'What the hell is that thing?' I thought, as I tried to stand up slowly.

My pale hand touched the stone floor. The cold sensation brought me back and made me feel alive.

"Where am I?" I whispered. I was struck with immense thirst and my throat started burning and itching. The itch threw me into a coughing spree, making the pain even worse.

"You are being kept alive by my mana, but you've had no interaction with water or food for several weeks." the floating skull said. I felt the contaminated magic surrounding me, seeping into my body, slowly corrupting me with its foulness. Yet I also sensed my body absorbing the mana and making it my own, while purifying the filthiness.

"Please..take…m..me to….the..outside." I begged, barely forming a sentence without coughing again. The itch made it hard to speak and it barely came out as a whisper. But the skull seemed to move with my plea.

"Very well my lady, I shall take you to the outside!" the skull exclaimed with vigor. Like it was happy to help me.

Suddenly I felt cold air take hold of me, as my hair started to sway in the wind. My body slowly floated towards the stairs in the secret library.

The statue scraped against the floor, as a path to the surface revealed itself. I was brought to the room and light finally blessed my world.

"Water, please." I begged the floating skull.

"Right away, my lady!" it said and vanished, floating through the wall. Some seconds later it returned with a wooden mug filled with water. It was floating next to the cold flame, slowly freezing from the emitting cold.

I clenched my hands around the mug and brought the ichor to my lips. The cold water quenched my thirst, soothing my aching throat.

"Lenart is coming Jasmine, my dear child, brace yourself." my deity said. Its voice calmed my mind, but the words did not so much.

Soon Lenart bursted into the room, his hair was a mess and his eyes had gray bags. His clothes were dirty and torn.

"Jasmine", he said and towards me, embracing me into a hug. His sudden actions sent a jolt of pain through my body, making me gasp for air.

"What's wrong?" I asked, making him let go and step back. He took a deep breath and braised himself, before finally saying.

"Ronan, your father, he's dead." was all I heard before I lost consciousness again.

(An: I still stand by my words, three or more chapters this week :) )