BleedingTears
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Arcanist - Chapter 42
🕑 Added 2025-03-16 08:21:39 +0000 UTCEarly chapter once again...
Raging flames swirled waves at Valens’s command, eager like little children, tugging at the tip of his fingers as if pleading him to be set free. The bonfire crackling by the carriage didn’t seem too dangerous now, not when there was a bigger storm to worry about, casting long, dancing shadows that forced the woman’s little trick to a halt.
“May I?” Valens repeated with his voice steady, not particularly taken by the reactions of the warriors who were staring aghast at the roaring flames.
It took Captain Edric a heavy moment to gather himself—a heavy moment and a blink—after which he lowered his gaze, eyes squinting with uncertainty. “Is that Inferno?”
“That explains the level,” Garran was quick to point out, seemingly not too indifferent now. “A nasty trick, that one.”
“Shadow’s piece!” Mas roared with spit, knuckles of his hands white round the chains. “This man lied to us! He’s a Mage. Get him!”
Valens waited to see if there would be any effort against him, keeping Inferno leashed to his hands, but seemed Mas was a rather troubled fellow who not only suffered from a twisted point of view, but also by the dismissal of his team members. He might as well have been roaring at a mountain with all his worth, and perhaps that would’ve gotten a few stones rolling down in response.
“It is,” Valens answered, reaching out and pulling at the invisible mana threads. The Inferno responded to his command, a touch unwillingly, and dissolved into a rain of burning dots. “What do you think, Captain?”
“Ah.” Garran shifted. “That’s not a wise thing to do.”
“What?” Valens arched an eyebrow at him. “You mean the question?”
“Eh, you’ll see.” Garran shook his head.
Valens turned curiously to the captain. He looked rather bothered, face creased into a grimace like a man trying to find the right words to speak, but failing miserably.
Then he cracked his neck, and took in a long, deep breath. “Never been much of a fan of that phrase,” he said. “Scarcely you’d have a specific thought waiting in your mind to become an answer to that question. What do I think? I think of many things, Healer. I think of killing you right here and putting an end to… whatever this is. I also think of getting a new set of chains from the carriage, strapping you round, and having a little talk about those strange skills of yours. But for some reason, a part of me believes that you would not be taken silently.”
“I mean no harm,” Valens said, raising a finger to the woman who remained still as a stone. “Just let me get a look—“
The rattling of the chains. Valens caught it over the Resonance before a shadow darted from beside the bonfire, coming at him with bounding steps, coming at him fast with the tip of a sword gleaming under the dawn lights. Valens used Light Feet to fling himself back from the captain, ducked his head at the sudden spike in the frequencies, and watched as the sword passed by a hair's breadth over his eyes.
Then he was back on his feet, fingers curling as he reached for the Gale. The man turned swift as a cat, golden sword clasped tight in both hands, and made for him like a blurry streak from across the distance. He was on him a moment after, the weapon cleaving at his neck, aiming for a kill, to quieten his song for good.
The Gale pushed Valens back as a Fireball roared alive over his fingers. Giant like a rock, intense with burning heat. Light sparked and flashed on the golden armor, the smooth blade catching the flames in a reflection of colors. Valens hurled it off right away, the man dodging easily with a sidestep and breaking into a run, grinning him a wicked smile.
“You’re done, Healer!” Mas bounded down the ground and slashed out with precision, teeth barred with zealous satisfaction.
Inferno blazed alive and tongues of it stretched toward his armor, curling round the gaps, seeping inside as Valens kept Apathy steel over his mind. He could hear the frequencies of the sword, of the flames reaching for unprotected flesh, of the muddy, fresh earth underneath his feet, of the nervous hesitation of Celme’s beating heart.
Then came a rage, so stark and strong that it thumped like a morning bell over the Resonance. A flash of lights. The scream of metal scraping against the ground. Stones thrashing, ground breaking, breath rasping in Valens’s chest. He could barely see the reason of it as something cleaved into the Inferno, ripping the threads into pieces as if they were of delicate silk.
Valens floundered a step back as the flash of lights receded. Vision blurry, he could barely make out the pair who stood a few steps ahead of him, one holding the other by the scrape of his neck like a pup. Mas was flailing, gauntleted hands pounding the golden chest piece, breath wheezing weakly out through his lips as Captain Edric choked him with the ease of a master.
“Fool,” Garran said.
“Sool,” Dain said, voice hissing through the gap of his teeth.
“C-Captain—“ Mas splattered, face growing pale, eyes bulging with fear. “L-Let—“
Captain Edric gave him a simple look, then flung him off to the ground like an empty sack. “Fool,” he said as Mas rolled like thrash thrown over a cliff, the banging of his plates broken by an occasional pained grunt.
Valens winced slightly at the sight. He half expected the Captain to intervene, but not in a way this dramatic. He scarcely felt his presence through the Resonance other than that sharp spike of rage. The captain hadn’t moved for the sword strapped to his belt, nor did he use any flashy skills to deal with the man. Just simple strength.
“You’re lucky,” Captain Edric said with a look over his shoulder. “I don’t tolerate fools under my command.”
Mas groaned and dragged himself flinching to his feet, rubbing at his neck with a gauntleted hand. It would be bruising soon, but other than that it didn’t seem too serious. The captain was measured in his handling of the zealous man.
Another tell of his control. A dangerous man, indeed.
“Eh, it was bound to happen,” Garran said as he stepped beside Valens, still holding onto the chains. There was a pained expression in his face as he continued, “An occasional reminder isn’t a bad thing. Keeps the men in line, I should know.”
“I…” Valens breathed. “I guess I didn’t expect that from the captain. He seemed the firm, yet gentle type of man who would use his words rather than his hands to deal with unruly soldiers.”
“Oh, he uses his hands alright,” Garran snickered at Mas’s sorry state. “That neck ought to be bruising soon. Poor bastard. But you do wrong, you pay the price. No other way round it.”
“Now you,” Captain Edric said, and at his voice both Valens and Garren snapped to attention. There was an air about him now, a sort of gait that demanded obedience. “Explain.”
“Mind if I ask—“
“Explain that Inferno. That’s not something a Healer should know, even if he’s a special class.”
“A man has to learn how to keep himself safe in these dark times, eh, captain?” Valens said, Apathy tight over his emotions. He couldn’t outright state that he was from another world, nor could he act innocent even though the notion of Healers not being considered Magi was absurd. “I’ve learned a trick or two to keep myself warm and safe during the nights. Can’t blame me for it, can you?”
“If he were to try and get rid of us he wouldn’t have revealed his hand for a mere Wailborn,” Garran said, looking at Valens. “But then, why care for a woman whose soul had been soiled with the curse of the Tainted Father when you know we’d be suspicious of your skills?”
“The same reason why he offered his help for free for our Guild.” Celme came up behind and stood by Valens’s side, giving him a quick look. “He could’ve demanded a generous pay for the effort, and the Lightmaster would’ve accepted the deal right away, but he didn’t. You’ve seen it for yourself in that tent, captain.”
Valens glanced at Celme with a flicker of surprise. He hadn’t expected her to step in, but the way she spoke suggested that she might have started trusting him.
Captain Edric studied her for a long moment, then shook his head slightly. “So, you trust him?”
"I trust what I've seen. And I’ve seen a man who didn't need to help us, yet did so anyway. That counts for something."
A muscle in the captain's jaw twitched. He turned his gaze back to Valens, scrutinizing him like a man trying to pry open a locked chest with just his eyes. "Fine. We’ll let you look at her. But if you try anything—"
"You’ll kill me. Yes, I figured as much," Valens cut in smoothly. "Now, may I?"
Edric gave a stiff nod. The group parted just enough for Valens to step forward, approaching the woman who stood senseless before the bonfire. Her breathing was shallow, her skin ghostly pale, marred by veins that pulsed with an unnatural black hue.
“Garran, get that fool out of my sight,” the captain said. “Or I’ll make sure the lesson will stick.”
Garran handed the chains to Dain, and trudged off sourly toward the man. As Valens approached, he glanced at the runes over the chains. They looked alien, more like symbols rather than complicated spell formulae that served as a function, their frequencies silent over the Resonance.
Dormant. I wonder if there’s a trigger of sorts that would alert these runes? Perhaps if the woman tries to struggle, they would activate? That would’ve been the clever way of doing things.
Valens stretched a firm hand to the woman’s bare arm, feeling that outside influence like fog heavy over his shoulders. Threads of it tried to spill inside through his skin, carrying a similar stench to that of the Necromancer and its horde.
There’s a slight difference.
Her skin felt icy cold to Valen’s palm, brittle as though made of glass. Lifeward oozed silently down to her core, painting the picture of her inner web in his sound vision. From lungs to the veins, to the heart and the liver, everything was in place, perfectly in motion. The blood flow, however, had a darkish color to it, as if sullied by mud.
Interesting.
Valens couldn’t see anything resembling a sourceline here, which erased the suspicion of the woman being controlled by an outside force. Yet by her heart, near the chest cavity, the song of her frequencies was a mess of constant highs and lows. Out of tune, to Valens’s thinking, as it spiked all of a sudden before quiescing down to the point that he could hardly hear her.
“Well?” Captain Edric sounded impatient. “Anything we should know?”
“Another minute, captain,” Valens said, and sent a Lifesurge down the veins.
If anything, he should clear the muddied blood to see if there would be any change. Not only did it hamper the woman’s arteries, it also lowered the body temperature down to a state that would be fatal to any normal human.
You’re not normal, though, are you? Let us see about that mud.
Lifesurge threads spilled into the lungs, filtering the blood being pumped by the heart. The translucent net caught each of the specks with impeccable focus, piling them into a ball and allowing clear blood to pass through. The process took time, but soon the woman’s body temperature returned to normal, the icy skin getting its healthier, rosy color back.
“Just like I thought.” Valens nodded knowingly. “There’s no evil shadows here. It was a sickness. I’m not sure what it really is, but it’s likely a local disease I’m not familiar with. She’s terribly dehydrated, though, and famished, as well. Can we get her some water and food?”
Garran scowled at his words from beside the carriage, glancing doubtfully back at the captain to hear his word on the matter while still making sure Mas had remained inside. Dain kept his silence and his hands round the chains. Celme and a quiet Marcus stood a healthy few steps to the side, waiting in nervous silence.
“Do it,” Captain Edric waved a hand at Garran. “Get her a bottle.”
Valens smiled as he let the Lifesurge threads dissolve into waves of lifemana, cleansing the foul mana with practiced ease. He forced the bigger specks up the lungs, and out from her wrists, wiping them with the tail of his robe before managing a pair of basic stitches.
The woman took in a deep, shivering breath, blinking round at Valens’s face with apparent confusion, then down at her own wrists and ankles bound by the runed chains. Her eyes turned slowly to the color of the ocean. She tried to move, but was kept in place by the chains and instead dropped slowly to Valens’s chest.
“Can you hear me?” Valens said as he helped her to get back. The woman nodded. “Can you tell me your name, and your age? Do you remember what happened to you?”
Her cracked lips parted slightly, her breath reeking with hunger and rot. “M-My–” she croaked.
“Get her some water already!” Valens demanded before a figure appeared beside him, holding out a bottle to the woman’s lips. The speed of the man was admirable, but Valens was more interested in the woman to pay heed to Garran’s haughty grin. “Drink slowly,” he said. “Don’t force yourself.”
The poor young woman swallowed the water in big gulps, choking on her own spit, but refusing to part with the bottle’s mouth.
Ignorant men. To think they would’ve burned her at a damned stake. What the hell is wrong with this world?
Valens squashed his anger down, and wiped the tears streaming down from the woman’s face. He would have to do another session with the Lifesurges to make sure she had enough strength to walk on her own, but before that, he was eager to hear the reason for… this.
“Strange,” Garran said, pulling the now-finished bottle back from the woman’s mouth. He scowled. “A Wailborn shouldn’t have a need for water.”
“She’s not a Wailborn!” Valens snapped at him. “Just a sick, young woman. That’s who she is!”
“M-My name is Selin,” the woman said, voice pitifully small. “I… I don’t remember.”
“Get these chains off her hands.” Valens cut her long fingers with the tip of a Lifesurge, teeth gritted as he nursed her bruised wrists during the process.
How long have you suffered in this state? How long did they keep you in that damned cage?
He didn’t want to know.
“Captain?” Garran asked.
“Do it,” Captain Edric said, which brought a small smile to Valens’s lips. At least the man was reasonable enough to admit he was wrong. “Worst case, we can cut her limbs and deal with the rest of her body with the Wraithspike.”
Easy, Valens reminded himself when Apathy threatened to break over his emotions. He would have time to go over this barbaric practice with the so-called sacred warriors.
“Selin, my name is Valens. I’m a Healer and you’ve suffered a terrible sickness,” he said while Garran pulled the chains off her hands. “You’re healed now, but we will take it slow, understood? I want you to count to ten. Take a good breath before you start. There’s no rush.”
The young woman nodded weakly at him, rubbing her wrists. She seemed so lost, so alone in this bare patch of dirt that it took a few words from Valens to get her to trust him. Good. It could’ve been a lot worse. He’d dealt with worse before. A sickness of mind was not to be taken lightly.
“It’s not coming back, is it?” Selin asked, looking around her with shaky eyes.
“No, the sickness is gone,” Valens assured her. “You’re fine, now.”
She gave him a small nod before she started. “One.”
“Good,” Valens said.
“Two. Three. Four.”
“Take it slow,” Valens said. “There’s no need to rush.”
“F-Five?” Selin muttered, and continued after Valens smiled at her. “Six.” Her voice gained a faint confidence now. “Seven. Eight. Nine.” All three together, she was doing great.
Then she stopped.
Valens looked up at her.
I couldn’t see any damage around her brain, but it wasn’t a detailed check. Maybe I should take another look.
“Selin?” he said. “What comes after nine?”
“Shadow.”
“What?”
“It came back,” Selin said, then all around the arms her hair stood on end. “It’s here.”
“What’s here?” Valens frowned. “There’s nothing. Let me—“
Darkness crept slowly into her eyes. Nails Valens had just clipped elongated from the stubs of their roots, stretching unnaturally long toward the ground. She shivered. Her neck cracked as she rolled it from side to side before snapping at Valens.
He saw her state but couldn’t react as she lunged forth. Grabbed his collar with both hands, grabbed him tight and pulled him close to her face with monstrous strength. Her rotten breath came before her papery whisper.
“You don’t belong here, Healer.”
…….
Comments
Denizcan Uçuran T4icho
He is the fourth member of the Templar group. I mention him in chapter 41. He’s a rather silent fellow though. That might be the reason why you missed him :)
Akkido
“Sool,” Dain said, voice hissing through the gap of his teeth. Who is Dain??
Myrdin
He is acting idiotic, as if he knew better the rules of the world than the people who live in it
Denizcan Uçuran T4icho
For the first month, we'll be going with a chapter a day. Once we're over, then we'll dial it back to somewhere between 4 or 5 chapters every week. I have a healthy backlog, so if I can keep up with the release schedule, I'll be posting bonus chapters on patreon as well!
AL
Omg what a treat Whats ur posting schedule btw?
Denizcan Uçuran T4icho
Aww, thanks! That means a lot! But I do have another chapter up top, make sure to read that as well!
AL
Just caught up. I'm really enjoying the story so far and I love the MCs personality!
Denizcan Uçuran T4icho
Eh, I'm not going to keep something that pokes you the wrong way in the book, as I don't actually care about the word at all. Just wanted to hear the reasoning behind it, and now I did. Plus, I'm not a native so it can get tricky with some words here and there. Thanks for pointing it out!
Murphy
It pops up randomly, especially with older writers where they can remember it being used, most authors who do use it use it once the entire series. Most people won't even know smarts/smarting can be used in that way since it's so rare, they'd just likely understand from context. It makes it difficult to use naturally as people have no real life context in which it's used or who it's used by, or how that character would know the word. Most Americans nowadays would probably assume it's something used by another country, like the UK or Australia, even though it was used in certain states here 30+ years ago. It's immersion breaking. It's similar to using outdated slang that was never popular in the first place. Ultimately it's up to you. I just want you aware I hate the use with a passion, especially when used by men. It's most commonly used by women or directed at children. I've never heard a grown man irl ever use the word.
Denizcan Uçuran T4icho
I've checked it. Looks like I've used it a total of '4' times in the 42 chapters that I've published. Odd that I remember seeing this word in a few grimdark novels I read the other year... We'll go with bruising, then.
Murphy
Please for the love of God and all that is holy, could you please stop using "smarting"? It's terrible prose, almost exclusively kept alive by middle aged female romance writers. It sounds terrible, out of character for everyone who uses it, and gives thesaurus vibes.
Caleb Reusser
Maybe he will learn that he doesn't know everything :)
