Chapter 7. Entwined

DOLOREM'S REGENERATION

The type of regeneration Dolorem is capable of is called "growth regeneration." This means that magical energy is used to "grow '' new tissue to seal injuries, or forcing old and damaged tissue to regrow much faster than it normally would. This leverages the natural healing ability of the body, albeit at an accelerated rate. It's a relatively efficient method of healing, but is somewhat limited in the sense wounds have to heal from the edges inward, meaning larger wounds take longer to heal.

The other most common form of magical regeneration is transmutative regeneration, in which case raw magical energy or a transmutation medium is used to produce new tissue. Transmutive regeneration can quickly, if at great cost, seal even the most grievous wounds in seconds. It should be noted that this method also has a tendency to strip the subject's body of fat reserves to fuel the transmutation reaction. This kind of regeneration is the type used by the Temple Priests of Black Iron, for example.

Dolorem, like any growth regenerator, has an upper limit to what he can recover from. For instance, anything that would instantly or near-instantly induce brain-death will still be fatal. In addition, enough sustained damage will slow his healing to a degree he becomes vulnerable to conventional forms of killing.

Dolorem can, however, survive the failure of several organs at once, and extreme blood loss with no permanent effects. In addition, his heart is capable of being restarted after cardiac failure. In addition, toxins have very little effect on him due to his enhanced metabolism.

Dolorem's body is also naturally calibrated to have a suppressed shock response, and higher pain tolerance than the average person. He still suffers immense pain from severe injury, however, and nothing about his regenerative ability allows him to escape the psychological damage of his experiences.

The journey to Black Iron would be slower this time. Neither Dolorem or Lilith had the strength left to travel at any faster pace. The two walked shoulder to shoulder, under the humid summer sky. The recent rains had been absorbed into the soil, making it spongy. Each step sank into the grass, a pool of cloudy water left behind in the indent. Despite the heat and dampness, it was pleasant on the road, quiet and removed from the chaos that now dictated their lives. The first hour was silent, in a comfortable sort of way, secure. After this, Lilith began a conversation.

"This… Orichi, what exactly is it, as far as well, anything is concerned?" She asked. "You tell me it's a guardian spirit, but what else?" Dolorem took a moment to gather himself. "I only know a little, but I'll tell you all I know. The Orochi is a Primordial Serpent, the kind dragons are descended from, and it resided within the South. I suppose that was its kingdom, in a way. It appears as a giant white snake, but some stories say it has eight heads, and some say it's a dragon itself. I saw it as a giant snake.

It was killed in the Age of the Gods by "He who helps by any means", apparently by the same sword now held in his main temple, out in the Windswept Archipelago, same place as the Solar Mirror, if I'm not mistaken."

"If it was killed, how did it manage to reach you?" Lilith asked, becoming more intrigued by the second.

"Its physical body was destroyed, but its essence remains tethered to its own spiritual domain. Or at least that's what I understand from what it told me. It needs a vessel to exist in this world, and I am the vessel."

"What exactly does being a vessel entail?"

"As far as I've been told, I receive a share of its power, and it gets a body to experience human life through, hence why I could transform and heal myself. I don't know the limits of the powers, but I doubt something this ancient hasn't large magic reserves. I can also hear its voice at times. Oh, and it might ask me for favours, whatever that means."

"Always a catch," Lilith said, suddenly concerned. "Define favours?"

"I know as much as I've told you, I was in no position to refuse the pact. I suppose I could ask, see if I get an answer?"

"Worth a try"

Dolorem stopped, awkwardly trying to formulate a method to catch the Orochi's attention. The Orochi didn't need its attention caught. "You forget that I'm part of your being, Dolorem," it said, with a tired sort of compassion. "As it happens, I've decided on the first of these favours."

"Let's hear it," Dolorem said out loud, to Lilith's amusement. "Firstly, you needn't speak, I can understand your thoughts perfectly well, and I couldn't care less what I hear if it doesn't concern me." Dolorem was taken aback by this revelation. "You can hear everything?" He thought, shocked. "Everything," The Orochi confirmed, "as I said, I do not care. With that said, your focus is all over the place… "

"Right," Dolorem interrupted, "you wanted a favour?" The Orochi fell silent, then spoke again "Yes, I'd like you to retrieve something of mine that was stolen, and once you have it, you may use it as you see fit."

"Understood", thought Dolorem, "what is it, exactly?"

"The Sword of Gathering Clouds" The Orochi declared. "WHAT?" Dolorem exclaimed aloud.

Lilith turned on her heel, looking somewhat panicked by his outburst. Dolorem himself was pale and wide-eyed. "The same sword that killed you?" He thought. "Yes, I'm aware of the irony." The Orochi said. "It was mine, before it was taken and used to kill me, I made it to protect my earliest followers. Thankfully, I rarely had cause to use it, save for during the Age of Giants, but I held onto it, a memento of my subjects from long ago."

"I don't understand," Dolorem thought. "The Sword is human-sized, and you… "

"Don't have arms? I carried it in my mouth. As for the size, it's not made of normal steel so much as it is spiritual force. Mine to be exact. A piece of me, permanently transmuted into a weapon. The "sword" itself is an expression of the user, if you will. Much the same as the Solar Mirror, come think of it. Mirror, shield, even cloak, the form is irrelevant, the symbol is the only important factor. It's a shame they're so protected, they do little good locked away" The Orochi said, tone strangely regretful.

"How long will I have to retrieve it?" asked Dolorem cautiously. He felt immense pressure, both to halt Solomon and now retrieve the sword. "I'm not an unreasonable patron, you can take a month to prepare, after that, take as long as is needed to retrieve it, all I ask is you make doing so your sole focus for as long as it takes."

"And if I refuse?"

"You'll have your status as my vessel revoked, and be left without my aid in your own quest. I doubt you'll live long."

"Very well," Dolorem said. He caught up with Lilith, who had wandered a few yards along the road. A terrible feeling was weighing on him, like briars ensnaring his torso. He put a hand on her shoulder once he reached her. "I just found out the nature of the favour." He muttered gravely. "Well?" She said,

"I am to retrieve the Sword of Gathering Clouds, and I've been given a month's grace before starting the quest." He said in a low voice, almost ashamed. "The same one that's housed in the Grand Temple, I presume?" Lilith said, "there's no convenient one nearby?"

"No, the only small mercy is that once I've taken it, I'm free to use it as I wish, it would be of great benefit if I wish to take on Solomon and the forces of the Archduke." Dolorem said, half convincing himself, half explaining to Lilith.

"It is what it is, I suppose." Lilith was somehow comforted by knowing the nature of Dolorem's task. It was theft, sure, but stealing an unused artifact was invariably better than conquest or killing in the name of a god. The two walked in silence for several hours after that. A tense silence hung in the air.

Dolorem felt empty inside, a failure. Someone who, so consumed by revenge, had cast the person he loved aside in the name of power. Lilith felt an urgent sense of isolation. Her existence had been warped by circumstances out of her control, and Dolorem was unraveling. He wasn't saying it, but he was spiraling away from her, forming that same, hardened shell she had managed to breach all those years ago. Ironically, he was turning into what Solomon had always wanted him to become. A Shinobi in its purest sense. She didn't want to lose him, but if he became too far gone, she couldn't let herself be destroyed. She had no need for him but she certainly did like having him around.

That night they made camp. The amber light of the campfire made the dark circles beneath Dolorem's eyes all the more obvious. He hadn't slept well in nearly a week. A feeling like ball bearings smashing about in his skull had overtaken him. He stared into the fire intently, hypnotized. He finally did decide to say something, and when he did, he was holding back tears.

"I understand if you want to return home, Lilith. I wouldn't wish this on anyone, much less you. I can cancel the engagement."

Lilith was stunned, it felt like she had been struck between the eyes with a hammer. "What do you mean?"

"I won't lie, as much as I wish things were different, it's likely that my days are numbered. Even if I retrieve the sword, even if I can reclaim the mark, I'll likely meet my end on a blade's edge. I don't want you to have to watch that, to suffer for my actions. I love you, and I can't justify hurting you."

Tears flowed down his face, in spite of eyes being shut tight. "I'm sorry I couldn't do more."

Lilith said nothing. Instead she took Dolorem's hands. When he opened his eyes she fixed hers on them. "That's not how it works, Dolorem. There is no paradise to escape to, and if you love someone, you stand by them when they fail. I want to stay with you because of you, not because of your situation. If you are truly condemned, and you haven't long left, it's all the reason to stand by you in the time you have left. Would you abandon someone on their deathbed?"

"No," said Dolorem, "but our plans, the wedding?"

"Does Black Iron have a temple somewhere?"

"Yes, I've been there, in fact."

"Well"

"Absolutely."

Not much else was said that night. The two soon fell asleep, huddled under a roughspun blanket. When dawn broke, they departed once again, careful to remove any trace of the camp beforehand. They still had at least two day's travel ahead, and the weather would be unlikely to stay as merciful as it had been.

They crossed the vast stretch of empty plains and valleys with linked arms, the empty roads leaving little need for disguises. The second day of the journey was uneventful. Lilith quizzed Dolorem on the mechanics behind jutsu, and his seals, carefully avoiding the topic of their acquisition.

"Jutsu," Dolorem said, "are essentially the same as spellcasting, except it relies on use of hand seals instead of spoken words, for the purposes of silence. Each seal corresponds to one of 24 characters of our language. The longer a comparable spell would be to cast, the more seals we have to weave. Another advantage is if one can form seals faster than speak, they can bring out jutsu faster than a caster would a spell. "

Lilith looked to the ground for a moment. "And the elemental nature of your jutsu are derived from seals, which transform and store your latent magical energy?"

"Exactly"

"So, theoretically, anyone can perform jutsu without a seal if they know the appropriate hand seals and elemental conversions?"

"Yes, in theory, but that would require large reserves of innate magic, to counter the inefficiency of conversion without a seal to do it for you. Why the sudden interest?"

"No reason, Just curiosity."

Hours passed, and the sun once again began to set. Dolorem and Lilith departed from the path, taking refuge in a nearby wood bordered by a marsh. In the shade of white oaks, they set up camp again. Their waterskins were nigh-empty. Dolorem went to the very edge of the marsh, and dug a small hole in the saturated soil. He lined the depression with a cloth, and allowed it to fill. The filtrate was clear, and looked reasonably safe to drink, but one could never risk illness in these conditions. When he came back to the camp, Lilith was waiting at an unlit campfire.

Dolorem approached, a look of confusion on his face. Lilith sat with a mix of excitement and unbearable smugness. "I presume you're plotting something?" He asked, not knowing what to expect. "As a matter of fact I am!", she exclaimed proudly. She stood up, and raised one hand in front of her, pointed at the pile of twigs and tinder. She made a set of one-handed gestures, and a little blue orb appeared at her hand, she opened her hand, and rotated it with her index finger extended. The featureless blue orb turned to flame, the warm glow seeming to show a reflective quality in her eyes. She released the ball, igniting the twigs in an instant.

A bewildered smile broke across Dolorem's face. "I can't believe it! One day?"

Lilith beamed. "Did you expect anything less? Once I knew the seals were for transformation, and hand signs were for use in place of sounds, I just had to assign my own hand signs to elvish spells, and apply the conversions in sequence, form then element, and I could replicate jutsu! My family all has high magic reserves, so I can afford to let a little go to waste so long as I control the consumption."

"That… '' Dolorem stuttered, "Is genius!" He ran over and hugged her. The two sat down and gazed into the blaze. "Mother always said I'd be dangerous if I used my head", Lilith joked.

The stars gleamed overhead, and Lilith was asleep. Dolorem still stared into the fire still, entranced. At some point, he felt a faint unease, an ominous presence. He would've ignored it had it not been moving. He snapped to full attention, focusing hard. He could feel a certain heat coming from within the trees, shifting from place to place. Was this one of the Orichi's gifts? Dolorem had heard that vipers could hunt in the pitch black of cellars at night. The heat he was sensing was less intense than the fire. Focusing harder, he could discern a vaguely anthropoid figure, off in the distance, approaching. He shook Lilith, standing up, putting himself between the approaching presence. Lilith was now gathering herself, intuiting there was a threat.

A pinprick of intense heat appeared by the figure, barely larger than a match. The figure raised its arms, the tiny point glowing steadily. He realized he was staring down the barrel of a matchlock rifle. He had seconds at best. He couldn't accurately cast a jutsu, nor did he have a bow. All he could do was protect Lilith. He turned to face her, crouching over her. He felt the heat of the gunpowder exploding, and in an instant, the lead pellet struck him in the back, blowing through his left shoulder.

The ball ripped through his body, leaving a jagged, burning trail through Dolorem's body. He looked down to see Lilith's shocked, blood-flecked face. The pain was immense, blurring his vision, rattling his insides. He tasted blood. Immediately steam began to rise from his wounds, viscera and bone, lengthening, re-forming, repairing the damage. The pain was already easing somewhat, and adrenaline flooded his veins. Dolorem's senses heightened to a monstrous degree, as iron-hard scales once again formed on his body, this time covering him entirely. His pupils became abyssal slits, irises burning a poisonous yellow.

"Nice shot" he hissed into the dark, a manic grin plastered across his face. He dashed in the direction of his assailant, propelled in a meandering, slithering path, weaving between the trees. As he approached, Dororem sensed more threats, eight, possibly ten, all armed with matchlocks, all aiming at him. One after another, they fired, each flash from the barrels co-ordinates Dolorem could interpret. Six shots missed narrowly, three hit their mark. Pellets of infernal lead tore through him, each impact rattling his entire body, tearing blood vessels and fracturing bone. Dolorem fell, the strength of his regeneration struggling to compensate for his injuries.

Lilith had gathered herself, and dove in amongst the trees, shrouded in dark and forgotten in the chaos of the skirmish. She decided to test her new system. She wove a javelin of luminescent blue ephemera, and worked it into solid metal, taking it in her hand. She analysed the situation. They were common mercenaries, hungry-looking, undisciplined. They had likely accepted a contract on them out of desperation. More would be likely to follow, the reward was no doubt princely.

She approached the mercenary who fired first, who was hurriedly drawing a machete. She struck him to the temple with an arcing sweep, knocking him out cold. The majority of the group was focused on Dolorem, with muskets depleted, they fell upon him with blade and cudgel. Dolorem dropped into a low stance, weaving hand seals. When he finished, he put both hands on the ground to stabilize himself. The skin on his back warped and split, two white serpents erupting forth from the opening. The two creatures instantly began to lash out at Dolorem's assailants. Each one tugging in a different direction, Dolorem was swaying, even while anchored, violently so. He had little control over them, it seemed, they acted purely on survival instinct. The snakes clamped their jaws around their nearest target, pumping their veins full of virulent poison. The first victims turned grey in an instant, collapsing on the spot.

Lilith had been spotted by two of the mercenaries, and they moved in with reckless haste. Lilith parried the first's blade, but the second's caught her in the shoulder, biting deep. She extended a hand in response, releasing a pulse of concussive force. The man was knocked off his feet. She pierced the other man's throat with a single thrust before withdrawing her javelin. She launched it at the other, pinning him by the heart to the tree he leaned against.

Barely thirty feet away, Dolorem stood, breathing heavily. He was surrounded by six corpses, each one poisoned. He drew in a ragged, shaky breath. The snakes protruded from his back, scanning their surroundings, tasting the air. They dissipated into nothingness. Dolorem bent double, throwing up at his feet. He was shaky and sweating. He felt consumed by guilt, once the rush of battle had passed, emptiness remained. Lilith dashed over to him, concerned. "Are you ok?" She called out. Dolorem held his hand out, as if to tell her to stay back. "Fine, fine… just… need a second." Lilith came closer regardless. "We should keep moving, Dolorem, it's nearly dawn anyway." She took Dolorem's hand, leading him away from the site of the carnage that had unfolded. They made it to the road before Lilith's strength failed her. She stumbled and nearly fell, but Dolorem caught her.

"You're bleeding." He announced, concerned. "It's a flesh wound, Dolorem. I'm fine." Despite her words, she was pale, and shaking. "You're not. I can cauterize the wound but I have no painkillers." He examined the wound, and Lilith locked eyes with him. "Please, but if you make a mess of this and kill me I'll haunt you." She said,

"I'll do my best, dear, I'd hate to have a body to dispose of." She punched him gently on the shoulder with her good arm. "Hey!"

"Right, the best I can do is this to bite down on," Dolorem said, offering her a piece of sleeve torn from his robe. She took it. "Cheers."

"Ready?" Dolorem said, forming a little flame between his fingers. "Yes. Just get it over with."

Dolorem began the procedure. When the flame made contact with flesh, a horrid smell of seared flesh arose. Dolorem worked as fast as he could, trying to fight the rising feeling of panic at Lilith's muffled screams. Beads of perspiration formed on Lilith's face. Once he was finished, he covered the still-glistening red seam with the remainder of his removed sleeve. He embraced her after that, Lilith disoriented by the pain. Dolorem sat with her for as long as she needed. Not saying anything. Finally, Lilith did speak.

"Let's keep moving."