Tears of the Chimeras

[Orionis]

Dimitris leaned back in his saddle, pondering his new friend's words. The abruptiveness of Morvayn's questions put him at ease, somehow. Maybe it was knowing that the larger man seemed to have no filter, no secrets to hide away in the dark recesses of his mind. Or, if there was, it hadn't tainted him irreparably. "If there is some kind of conspiracy surrounding my absent mother, I have a feeling we'll know soon. People are... Flawed, in many ways. Clearly, many of the villiagers have had to face such flaws in ways none of us welcomed." His back ached as they plodded onwards. Dusk was falling, the sun barely visible above the horizon. They would need to make camp soon, he figured.

"Aside from committing a cardial sin, there aren't really any reasons for the villiagers to exile a person. You'll find more of that sort around the temples. They take their rituals and customs seriously, and disrespecting them is akin to disrespecting the gods." Even if there were some deep, dark secrets running underneath his hometown, he wasn't sure there was anyone left to tell them. The curse had taken the most sinful people first, igniting like a fire in dry underbrush and tearing through everything in its wake. He wasn't sure if he himself had any time left, or if he would wake to find himself out of control and under Morvayn's blade. He sighed heavily, already weary. What could he do, anyway?

He fell silent after that, busy searching for a place to rest near the side of the road somewhere. It wasn't easy; most of their surroundings were dense forests filled with spurge and stinging nettle. Finally, finally, he spotted a small clearing a little ways from the side of the road. He gently tugged on the reigns, pulling him and his steed to a stop. "Come on, before those in the dark start calling for us, " he called over his shoulder, only half-joking as he slid off his horse.

 

[Fetzen]

Morvayn fell silent for a brief while until they finally found some place suitable for a short rest. Had he just stepped over a threshold that had not been his to pass ? A feeling in his gut told him that, next time, he might at least try and be a bit more... considerate ? Dimitris had already given off the impression of being fairly emotionally affected by all of this and he, the hunter, had nothing else to do than to make that situation worse ? Then again, on the other hand, he probably had only accelerated the inevitable a bit and maybe going through this now instead of when the heat of combat was around them was the better option, even if accidental.

Or maybe he was just thining way too much about it. As the hunter dismounted, his horse let go a sound of great relief. Dimitris' semmed to be in nice shape still, but his was obviously completely exhausted. Still Morvayn was quick to tie both of them to a nearby tree so neither would run away. Who knew when they'd suddenly need them to get away themselves ? The saddles and bags were taken off and arranged near Dimitris as well so nothing had a chance to get lost.

"Would you like to start a campfire for some comfort ? I honestly don't know whether these beings are rather attracted or rather fearful of things burning in the darkness. I just know that this night might be going to be quite cold and we need to keep our strength." Having said this, Morvayn already stomped onward to break off some branches of a dead tree nearby in case his companion would agree. He knew he had some flint stones in his bag, so starting a fire would not be much of an issue as it hadn't rained that much recently.

 

[Orionis]

Dimitris nodded, only half-listening out of exhaustion. He took a small hatchet from one of the saddle bags and set off to make quick work of a small, dead oak, likely throttled by the surrounding vegetation in its attempts to reach maturity. His mind wandered as he helped build the fire, wordlessly taking the branches Morvayn held out to him with a nod. An exhaustion had settled within him; not in a way that made his limbs feel heavy, but in the way that his mind screamed out at him for peace. To curl up like a small animal near the fire and sleep for as long as possible, for at least rest spared him from his waking knowledge.

As soon as he was sure the fire was going, he collapsed onto his back and threw an arm over his eyes without a word. Sleep was dragging him down, but a part of him remembered where they were and struggled uselessly against the waves of exhaustion that made it near impossible to move, let alone open his eyes. The forest around them felt restless, as if it were holding its breath. Waiting. Watching. Dimitris shuddered, unsure now if he were awake or asleep. As he drifted, he imagined that dark, blood-soaked tendrils were creeping towards him from the fire like living shadows. They twisted around his ankles and caressed his calves, creeping up to curl around his chest. They struck like twin snakes, delving into his chest as easily as a knife slices through butter.

He gasped, bolting into a sitting position. The fire had burned low. Dawn was approaching on the horizion, setting the land awash with soft streaks of orange and pink. Dimitris patted his chest as if he were searching for a wound. An injury. Something. His fingers only met with smooth, unmarred skin and the coarse hair that danced across his breast. He sighed, running a hand through sweat-soaked hair.

"Morvayn?" Dimitris kept his voice soft and low as he scanned their campsite. He heard something howl off in the distance that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand to attention. He's fine.... Probably. Right? He grimaced and reached for his bow. It was strange that he hadn't been woken, either by Morvayn or the aching muscles in his neck that chided him for sleeping on the ground. His mind went to his strange dream. Maybe he was cursed, now, and delirious. He looked down at himself, flexing his hands open and closed. The whispering of skin brushing against skin sounded real. The grime coating his skin felt real, as did the feeling of dragging his fingers slowly down his face. Real. All of this had to be real.

"Morvayn?" He called again, a little louder.

 

[Fetzen]

Once the fire had been ready to burn, Morvayn kept awake a little longer than Dimitris, but just barely enough so to actually witness how his companion fell asleep rapidly and how he seemed to have an uneasy time in his dreams. A nightmare ? Yet how was one supposed to stop it from outside, except for waking up the dreamer ? This seemingly obvious solution not so obviously was a far cry from a long-lasting one. They both had to sleep at some point and there was no telling whether the same nightmare or some even more nasty alternative might reappear on the second try or not. Waking him up maybe only increased the chances even as mind and body would come even more out of alignment with each other.

Still, it felt somewhat wrong to sit there and and to try and relax oneself while also thinking a nightmare happened in someone else's head nearby.

At first, Morvayn heard nothing. The second callout of his name ended up as some kind of noise whose intelligibility had not survived the trip into Morvayn's consciousness as the latter was transitioning somewhere between sleep and no sleep. Dimitris came into the hunters vision as some blurred blob at first until Morvayn had rubbed his eyes clean properly, then the hulking man could finally see that his companion was in a state of great agitation.

"What ?" he asked, possibility in a slightly annoyed tone. Morvayn's voice told a story about him not being fully rested either. Sluggishly, he crawled over towards Dimitris on all four limbs and doing so, he could see how the sun was on the verge of starting its journey across the sky again. "Bad dream ?" Then he noticed the sweat that was all over the place on Dimitris' clothes and that it definitely hadn't been there the evening before. "Yes, bad dream it is!" It was more a reference to his own thoughts than a real statement intended to be heard by Dimitris, an attemt to reassure himself of the wisdom of his next move.

Morvayn reached out with his hand in order to get a hold onto a bit of Dimitris' elbow, then pinched him not so lightly. Maybe it even hurt a little, but hopefully it would get the other man out of his stupor ? "I'm right next to you! It's dawning."

 

[Orionis]

Dimitris jerked away from the sudden pain in his arm. Blinking rapidly, he looked down to see a half-irritated, half-concerned Morvayn staring back at him. "I- what?" He took another step back. Don't panic, he tried to tell himself. You're just tired. You're not insane. His body shook like leaves in the early winds, and he cursed himself for his cowardice. For the images that played out across his eyelids every time he slid them shut. For not being able to protect his family. For not being able to protect himself, let alone anyone else.

"Apologies, Morvayn," Dimitris mumbled through numb lips. He pulled away with quiet shame, fiddling with his pack. "I think there's a river not too far off. I'll take my bow and refill our water supply." Dimitris grabbed the waterskins and stalked off without looking back. He knew he was acting like a child. He just... Needed a moment to collect himself. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been alone and in relative safety. The river was small, but just deep enough to dip the waterskins in. It was quiet, save for the bubbling of the brook. Dimitris sat for a moment, staring at the water. Deep breaths.

Eventually, the hard edge of panic and inner turmoil lessened, and he could think clearly again. A sigh escaped his lips. He had to get stronger. Not just physically, but mentally. Part of him wanted to give up. Embrace the curse and let it take his humanity. He wasn't sure it could work that way-- the Gods always had a sense of humor, after all.

"Dia dhuit," an unfamiliar voice called to him, not unkindly.

Dimitris leapt to his feet, startled. A man no more than a decade older than he stood at the other side of the river, looking worse for wear. His long, flowing robes were tattered, his pack nowhere to be seen and his eyes as wild as a boar's. He gripped an old, knarled staff tightly. The voice of Dimitris's father rang in his ears.

"The Keltoi serve a god similar to Pan; especially those they call druids, who are wise but dangerous. Never cross them, and they will never cross you."

Dimitris reached for his bow. "Who are you?" He called loudly. He assumed that Morvayn was lurking somewhere nearby, if not still back at the camp. The Keltoi man's skin was fair, his wheat-colored hair shining in the early morning sun as the wind swept. His wide, green eyes narrowed at Dimitris's bow. He didn't seem to understand what Dimitris was saying. Dimitris, very slowly, set the bow down and extended his empty palms out as a sign of peace. That the man understood immediately. He relaxed and hobbled down to the other side of the river to drink, lifting up huge mouthfuls of water as if he hadn't had a drop in weeks. The designs on his robes were strange, lines weaving around and over each other like branches of old trees reaching up to the sun. Dimitris studied them in open curiosity. The Keltoi didn't seem to mind.

The man sat back as if he were deep in thought, his fist pressed to his lips. He seemed to shake with emotion. Dimitris averted his eyes, splashing water on his face to calm his jumpy nerves. Part of him wanted to leave, but a larger part of him did not want to turn his back on a stranger.

Is he- Whatever thought Dimitris was starting to form fell apart he looked up to see the Keltoi's hands erupt in large, festering blisters. He cried out in unison with the druid, stumbling across the shallow river to help. To do something other than watch him with his maw agape. The staff slipped out of his hands and clattered to his side has he vomited uncontrollably into the stream.

"Caitheamh na Dóchais," the druid spat at him. He gasped for air as bile wetted his lips. His face was marred by pustules. The stench of rot made Dimitris gag. It was happening so quickly. Too quickly. What was happening to him? Was he sick? Transforming?

"Please, I can-"

The druid shoved him away with what seemed to be the last of his strength, leaning back to gaze up at the heavens.

"Dian Cecht, éist lium." He coughed, his hands shaking as he raised them in prayer. His fingers bent in different directions, blisters swelling to the point where it seemed to shift the bones in his hands out of place.

"Glé do m'anam sula n-imeoidh mé ar an Cosán Neimhe." Dimitris could only stare, dumbfounded, as the druid slumped forward and did not move again. The world was silent again. He was disgusted with himself for being grateful that he had filled the waterskins before the man had arrived. The stream was soiled, now.

Slowly, Dimitris stood, staring down at the body. What was left for him to do?

"Αἰωνία ἡ μνήμη." Eternal be his memory.

As he turned away, a little dazed but seemingly functional, he failed to notice the tendrils of shadow that slithered around the neck of the dead Keltoi.

 

[Fetzen]

As Dimitris turned around, seemingly less aware about his surroundings as normally, his eyes might have spotted the loud stampede of a man running at and then right past him. Morvayn considered his own reaction to be dangerously delayed by now, but now he had armed himself with his bow and whatever kind of long and thick wooden stick he had been able to grab on his way. Had this curse spread so far that one couldn't even leave somebody else alone in the woods for a minute or too ?

The deceased druid, his body now drowning in and spoiling the small creek next to him, gave a rather clear answer to that question. Or was he really dead ? The hunter's feet slid across the forest floor as he forced himself to a complete stop before taking the shot. Yet... there was nothing. With a solid thump, the arrow buried itself in the corpse without caring about the shadows around it in the slightest. The tendils appeared to not have even noticed the projectile being there.

Morvayn's eyes widened. Of all the things... who was he supposed to fight something that couldn't be interacted with physically ? Was he supposed to fight this at all ? Or was this a double-sided affair and the tendrils couldn't do any harm either ?

The sheer amount of blisters and other, even more disgusting things desecrating the druid's body gave indication of this not being the case. The shadows seemed to disperse into thin air, but that didn't mean anything. What if one merely had to take a breath of this miasma in order to become infected ?

"Dimitris ? Get the horses ready!" This was not an appeal, but sounded more like the sternest kind of order one could give. Morvayn hoped that this could at last reach his companion's clear mind and get him out of his stupor right now. He needed him!

That being said, Morvayn decided to not even try and spend any more precious arrows on the druid. There was nothing more he could do either way except for taking the branch he had gathered and prodding the dead body so strongly that his head got out of the water. Morvayn pushed the corpse further away from the creek with haste. Maybe this would save some lives further downstream, maybe it already was too late. At least it made the hunter feel better.

Then Morvayn followed Dimitris back to their campsite.