Finally.
He slowly opened his eyes to watch his imminent death greet him in the form of cold, glinting steel. And for a moment, relief washed over his body. His teachings had not been for naught, after all. He waited, arms raised at his sides with the palms upturned, as though to welcome eternal darkness with a warm embrace.
Yet, as the steel grew closer, something warred against him. Not an instinctual self-preservation, no, but something
other. It overcame him as it often did, whispering things in his head. He had no name for it, but it felt like disease. Ruin. The bane of his terrible, long life.
The woods did cruel things to one's mind.
The blade was only inches away when the peaceful smile that had formed on the Provider's lips distorted into an ugly, almost inhuman snarl. The tip of the knife bit against his skin, puncturing it, yet he'd grabbed the blade just in time to stop it from slitting his neck. Red spurted viciously out of his split palm, red trickled down to his collarbone, yet he resisted and resisted with all his might. With the back of his other hand, he struck Luc across the face; and he released the knife, his bloodied hand shaking uncontrollably. But there was not a moment to recover, for something prodded against his back just then. Luckily, the robe had hardened upon impact, so the weapon glanced off the surface like it was nothing.
Blood dribbled down from his hand to the floor. The whispers grew louder. They owned him, possessed him.
From his robe, he produced a seed and dug it into the bleeding wound with his thumb. His mouth became agape in pain, a strangled cry leaving his lips. Then, finally, he extended his arm with the palm facing away from him.
He closed his eyes and imagined.
Smoke issued out of his split skin. Tear gas. They were not in the forest. This should not have been possible, and yet… there it was: the Provider's greatest strength that was also his most burdensome curse. He had kept it secret for so long.
The worms, or what was left of them, returned to him as he backed away to the open door. And then he was gone, the smoke leaving with him.
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