Decay

Rionara’s limbs felt like they were burning. She couldn’t remember why, but her entire body felt heavy, sluggish—it was like she was floating inside water without drowning.

Upon opening her eyes she saw a landscape she had never seen before. A garden full of white flowers bathed in soft sunlight—birds chirped and the sweet smell of the flowers tickled her nose.

It was strange. She couldn’t remember seeing or experiencing something like this before.

‘Am I… dead?’

She looked down towards her hands. They looked smaller, paler and cleaner. She also noticed she was wearing a pure white dress while standing with her bare feet on the soft verdant grass.

‘These clothes…’

Her hands reached for her own dress. The texture of the textile was soft and soothing. It was like a dream. Her eyes trailed up but no matter how far she looked, there was no end to the field of flowers.

“...nor.”

A strangely familiar voice rang beside her. She turned towards it and noticed a woman wearing a similar dress calling her out. Her blonde hair hung freely against the gentle breeze with her emerald eyes looking affectionately at Rionara.

The woman before her wasn’t her mother, but her gaze made her chest tighten. Without knowing why, Rionara lifted both her arms out to the woman, who gently approached her before embracing her in a tight, comforting hug.

“Eleanor, I will always love you. My dearest daughter.”

She snapped awake, panting, sweating—her heart was pounding into her chest as if it would come out of her mouth. The linen robe she wore was wet around her neck.

“Haa… ha… ha…” She swallowed dry as she blinked many times—trying to focus her blurry vision. “Where… where am I…?”

The cobbled together roof seemed familiar but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. Once she forced herself up and noticed the adobe walls around her—she could tell exactly where she was.

“Geralt’s house…? Ugh…”

Her limbs felt a deep tightening pain alongside her legs, especially her calves, shins and thighs. But the strangest part was yet to come, her body felt strange—heavier. As she looked at her own hands, she noticed a great difference in the size of her palm. It wasn’t an adult’s but it certainly wasn’t a child’s.

‘What… what happened to my body…?’

Despite the pain, she felt good—physically. But the dream she had woken up from bothered her. Her heart was still racing from it and an unpleasant sensation filled her stomach. It was the very same foreboding feeling she had before her father would give her a beating.

She instinctively folded her legs close to her chest and curled up tightly. Her long hair fell around her shoulders like a black curtain shielding her from the world. She muttered quietly with her eyes closed shut.

“Pris…”

It wasn’t long until the silence was broken by the creak of the twig door. Rionara shifted her eyes towards the doorway as she noticed a figure standing by it.

A very familiar woman of blonde hair and red eyes stood without her signature chainmail and jacket—instead she had her midsection bandaged with linen and tied together with another cloth.

“Rio!” Priscilla uttered with relief. “You’re awake.”

“Pris!”

Despite the pain she was feeling in her lower limbs, Rionara jumped out of the hay bed and ran at the spell fencer, only to trip on her own legs and fall forward.

“Oof!” Priscilla managed to catch her in her arms, but the jolt of pain around her stomach made her clench her teeth in an attempt to mask the discomfort. “C-calm down, Rio. I’m not doing so well…”

“Huh?” Upon closer inspection, she noticed the bandaging and how she was avoiding shifting her weight on her right leg. “W-what happened to you?!”

“A lot of things…” She winced in pain but managed to flash a genuine smile at her. “Let’s sit down first…”

Rionara offered Priscilla a shoulder as they both made their way over to the stacked hay in the corner of the room. After the knight sat down, the young woman did the same right next to her. Sitting that close to her made Rionara realize how much her body had changed. Previously she had to tilt her head up to look at her face, but now she didn’t have to even lift her chin to look her in the eyes anymore.

It felt off.

“I… I’m sorry, I didn’t keep you safe.” Priscilla bowed slightly to her left as she lowered her head. Her wound ached as much as her pride. “I shouldn’t have let you go by yourself.”

That pitiful sight made panic surge from the bottom of Rionara’s stomach.

“No, no, Pris… it’s not your fault…” She held her shoulders firmly and started to shake her head. “I didn’t… I didn’t pay attention. It was… it was my fault, not yours.”

Rionara could feel the tears swell within her. Her throat tightened as she forced herself to swallow the urge to cry, at least for the time being. She hugged the knight tightly.

Priscilla found comfort in her embrace, but her body never really relaxed.

Images of Eleanor’s desiccated corpse and Father’s reanimation flashed in her mind. A swirling sensation of dread consumed her from inside out as her right hand clenched to a tightly white hue.

‘I… I can’t…’ The knight clenched her teeth as she swallowed bitterly. ‘I… I couldn’t possibly let her bear this guilt…’

“Pris… these few days we’ve been together…” She put her hand on the back of her head and caressed her hair softly. “You’ve shown me much more than anyone ever had. Please, no matter what happens from here onwards, continue being the proud knight you always have been.”

“I… I will try.”

‘For your sake.’

Outside the barn, Reinhardt and Elaine were sitting by the entrance, both seemed tired as even their weapons were laid against the adobe wall instead of being worn or on their lap. The elf let out an exasperated sigh that made the knight frown slightly.

“Manners, Elaine.”

“Oh give me a break.” She covered her mouth with her hand once another yawn came over to her. “What about you? Aren’t you tired?”

“Not enough to yawn.” He looked at the tip of his leather boot. The texture of the footwear had seen better days, but his mind was elsewhere. “Tell me, what do you think that was?”

“That, what?”

“That girl’s transformation. No matter how you look at it, she aged at least five years.”

“Oh, that…” Elaine snickered while fiddling with a loose thread of her gambeson. “I don’t know. I’m an assassin not a mage.” But after that she glanced at him, which prompted him to do the same at her. “But, that lil’ girl’s corpse and the old man’s resurrection seemed-”

That statement made him frown.

“Elaine.”

“I’m not saying it’s her fault. It’s just the natural conclusion to it. That other man, what was his name? Charles, I think? He couldn’t even make a fly raise from the dead even if he willed it.” Her gaze started to trail down to the dirt ground, there was a certain uneasiness growing in her belly. “But that old man… he went above and beyond his body’s limits in order to protect Miss Duelist.”

Reinhardt returned his gaze to his extended right leg and closed his eyes while pinching the space between them with his right fingers.

“If she is capable of raising people from the dead…” He opened his eyes and sharpened his glare on the blade of his longsword. “Others will certainly take notice of it.”

“Do you mean…?”

“The Baron.”

In the slums near the southern walls of Arivaul, a detachment of town’s guards reached the shack that would later be known as the ‘hill of massacre’. Corpses riddled the verdant hill, staining the greenery with slick crimson. Weapons were also scattered as if it was a scene taken straight from a battlefield. Darkened spots on the grass also showed the usage of magic with a few charred corpses as witness of its destruction.

The less experienced guards couldn’t stomach such a scene as they avoided going anywhere past the three charred men in the lower portion of the hill. A guard of receding hairline started to inspect every single body for survivors.

As he walked past the corpses, he glanced back and yelled at the younger guards.

“What are you all waiting for? Look for anyone that survived.” He adjusted the grip on his halberd. “If anyone tries to attack you, make sure they don't get up from your first strike.”

They looked amongst themselves before hesitantly following his lead. They went from body to body but they all seemed to be dead or at the very brink of dying.

“Shit.” The older guard grunted as he stumbled across a thug with his eyes rolled up. His neck was missing a chunk of flesh as if it had been bitten off by a beast. “What the hell happened here?”

“Hey, chief.” One of the younger ones came across an unconscious Carl near the shack. “This guy seems fine.”

“Huh?” He approached the fallen brute and poked him with the blunt end of his halberd. “This is Carl, that infamous thug.”

“Hah?”

Instinctively, the older guard looked around the hulking man before noticing a corpse wearing a fine longcoat. Upon approaching it, he contorted his face in disgust. The man had his face caved in with such violence that his features were unrecognizable.

The younger guard approached and saw it as well. Something he wished he didn’t.

“Ugh!” He averted his eyes. “Who… who in the world would do something like this to another man?”

“I don’t know, son. But we’ve got to find them.”

They went around checking on the other corpses when one younger guard stepped close to the shack’s entrance. The stench of death hit his nose and he instinctively backed off the doorway.

“Ugh!” He frowned his brows while clenched in teeth in disgust. “What is this smell?!”

Another fellow guard with a piece of cloth wrapped around his nose and mouth decided to peer into the shack. The darkness within felt unnatural—it was as if something malicious hung in the still, moldy air.

“Hm?” Upon squinting his eyes he could see something shuffling in the shadows. It had the shape of a human curled down near the rotten boards. “Hey, you there! Are you okay?”

There was no answer. The figure shuffled in the shadows but it didn’t appear to be responding to the guard’s words.

“What’s wrong? Can’t you speak?” He stepped into the shack and as the wood creaked beneath his boot, the dark silhouette shifted and turned its crimson red glare at him. The blood eyes had an eerie glow to them as if the person was possessed. “What the?!”

With an inhuman pounce, the guard was knocked out of the shack by a desiccated corpse of a man. It growled and snarled while trying to bite off his face. The young man was barely keeping its jagged rotten teeth away from his face by using the shaft of his halberd as a bar to fight off the corpse’s aggression.

“GET IT OFF ME!”

The other guard snapped out of it and thrusted the point of his halberd into Father’s side and a murky dark red blood spluttered out of the wound, but the corpse still kept trying to bite his comrade as if it had completely shrugged off the otherwise fatal wound.

“Wha-!”

“Aaaargh!”

One firm shout came from the other side of the undead and an axe blade carved into Father’s spine, suddenly stopping all movements from the rest of his limbs. The older guard then kicked the corpse off the recruit—who desperately shuffled away from the corpse that was still snapping its teeth in empty air as if driven by an uncontrollable madness.

The clacking of its jagged teeth only ceased when the second young guard split its skull in half with his halberd. By then, even the front of the shack was stained crimson.

With his boot, the recruit quickly held part of the splitted head down before yanking out the blade of his weapon.

“Goddess, what was that?!”

The older guard looked at the other recruit who was still on the ground—trembling.

“Hey, come on, get up.” He grabbed him by the back of his breastplate armor and shifted him upright before pushing his own halberd into his grasp. “Stay ready, we need to check if there isn’t another one of this freak inside.”

He grabbed the recruits’ halberd and motioned to the other guard that was barely keeping his food down.

“Hey, follow me.” He then turned to the other one. “You, stay outside.”

“What?! Chief, you want me to go inside?!”

“What else? Can you swing your weapon at a person?”

“N-no but-”

“Then shut up and go. I’ll watch your back.”

“A-aye…” Hesitantly, he held his weapon forward and shifted his feet slowly into the shack. “H-hello…? A-anyone there?”

The older guard followed behind him with his halberd also pointed forward as if to create a wall of pointy steel in front of them. As they proceeded into the shack, their eyes started to adjust to the darkness. Aside from the feral corpse they encountered, the only other thing that caught their attention was a desiccated body of a young girl and a bell guard rapier lying right next to it.

Only after checking that the shack was empty, the older guard relaxed his posture. He approached the corpse and poked twice with the blunt part of his weapon, but seeing how it didn’t move—he decided to crouch and pick up the rapier that was next to it.

“A rapier?” The thin blade was no bigger than a thumb in width and the exquisite engravings in the metal guard showed it was no normal civilian weapon. “Did that old man carry this around?”

“C-chief, can we leave this place? This place creeps me out.”

“Yeah, yeah. Get the others and stand guard.” He flicked the rapier twice as he was going for the doorway. “I’ll have to notify the captain about this.”

“Y-yes, sir.”

Back in the guard barracks, Rhys was finishing up paperwork in his office room before he eventually saw a new report on his desk. He was wearing a white linen shirt and wine red trousers of the same material with his pristine white overcoat hanging on the back of his chair.

“What is this?” He muttered as he picked up the paper. “New materials found in the dungeon.” He read out loud while frowning his brows as he went through the list. “A vein of copper, graphite and black marble…”

He sighed.

‘The Baron will surely be pleased…’ He tossed the report on top of the paper stack and leaned back on his chair. ‘Rich bastard…’

His brief relaxation was cut short by a few knocks on the door, forcing him to sit up and straighten his posture before speaking out.

“Enter.”

“Excuse me.”

An old guard appeared on the doorway as it opened. He carried an exquisite rapier in the grasp of his gauntlet which made Rhys feel like he had seen that weapon before.

“What is it, soldier?” He leaned back against the chair once again and interlocked his own fingers on his lap. “Where did you find that fancy weapon you’re carrying?”

“About that, sir…”

The conversation with the soldier was rather short. Rhys was disinterested at first, but once the older guard started to mention about Father’s feral behavior—he leaned forward with frowned brows as he asked him to hand the rapier over.

“...that was the gist of it.” The guard said while placing the weapon on his superior’s hand. “I had the younger ones keep an eye out on the place but there isn’t much else left aside from that thug.”

“I see… good work, go get the younger ones and bring back this thug to the prison.” Rhys’ eyes were focused on inspecting the rapier as he spoke. “I have some legwork to do.”

He stood up from his chair when the guard in front of him asked curiously.

“Do you know the owner of this weapon, Sir?”

“I have a hunch.”

“Should I fetch some bodyguards?”

“No, that won’t be necessary.” He picked up his overcoat and slipped into it while still holding the rapier. “I’ll return shortly. Make sure to bring some other guards to the slums, tell them I’ll meet them after I drop this off.”

He made his way up to the door, but the guard stopped him with a hesitant inquiry.

“Should I have some of the noble district guards to go there?”

“Yes, I don’t want anyone going near that place.” He opened the door and quietly clenched his teeth while muttering to himself. “The last thing we need are more unnecessary rumors.”

He went through the empty hall and into the main doorway to outside. The two guards by the entrance looked at him going out of the building and saluted when he walked past them.

Rhys acknowledged them with a short nod before heading off into town while holding the rapier near his left hip in a reverse grip as if he was wearing the weapon on his person.

The streets leading to the central square were bustling with people. Life seemed to be continuing everywhere despite the news the guard had brought him.

‘The slums…’ He clicked his tongue. ‘I guess everywhere needs somewhere to dump the unwanted or the unworthy.’

Some of the older residents greeted him and he returned the gesture while keeping his pace focused on the task at hand. Delivering that sword to its rightful owner.

‘And if I manage to convince her to leave that matter under the rugs, the better.’

He started to rub his right index and thumb together. The notion that he held a royal knight’s weapon in his hand made his palms sweat cold.

The handle’s texture felt different from any weapon he ever held. Coiled, slightly coarse black leather adorned the hilt with a rounded pommel with details of a crown, the bell guard had flowers engraved in the metal with two prolonged edges of the guard offering even greater protection for dueling. The blade was practically a work of art—the thin metal didn’t have a single dent and its center had a faint light blue glow as if it was imbued with mana.

‘What would make her drop her weapon, I wonder…?’

He asked himself as he stopped in front of the guild hall. He let out a quiet sigh before peeking inside. The hall was mostly empty. Only a few adventurers were inside, either taking a break in the lobby or looking up new jobs on the board.

Lucina was behind the reception counter and noticed a well dressed man leaning in front of the doorway which made her squint her eyes before noticing it was Rhys. She was about to greet him with a wave, but his hand gestures to promptly approach him made her hesitate to speak out loud.

“I’ll be out for a bit.”

She informed one of her coworkers.

“Sure thing. There isn’t much to do anyway.”

“Thank you.”

She discreetly made her way over to the entrance where the captain was. Upon stepping out of the hall, the first thing that caught her eye was the rapier on his hip.

“Good afternoon, Captain Rhys. Is there anything that I can help you with?”

“Good afternoon, Lucina.” He briefly glanced around to check if there was anyone eavesdropping on his conversation before continuing. “Do you know where Miss Priscilla might be?”

“Priscilla? She didn’t come to the guild today.” Her eyes inevitably trailed down to the weapon he was holding. “Why are you holding her weapon, Captain? Did something happen?”

“It was found earlier by one of the guards. I want to return it to her as soon as possible.”

“The city guard? Then-”

The receptionist’s eyes widened a bit as he mentioned how the lost item came to be in his possession—making Rhys try to tone down the gravity of the situation.

“Fret not, I’m sure nothing bad happened to her. Regardless, an adventurer without a weapon may find herself helpless, so I’ll continue to search for her. Thank you for your time, Lucina.”

He bowed slightly as he turned around, but she interrupted his stride when she raised her voice.

“Captain, wait. Earlier today she mentioned that she’d be at Geralt’s shop. Maybe you’ll find her there.” He looked at her over his shoulder and gave another modest nod as he headed off. “I hope nothing bad happened to them…”

Lucina nervously clasped her hands together and squeezed them tightly while muttering a prayer under her breath.

“O Goddess of Light, please, keep them safe…”

Back at the barn, Priscilla and Rionara were standing outside for some fresh air. Elaine stood guard in the distance while Reinhardt conversed with them.

“Are you alright, Rionara?” He asked with genuine concern in his voice. “Your… growth, wasn’t exactly something painless, was it?”

“It hurt a lot, but now I’m feeling a bit better.” She gave him a weak smile. “Thank you for helping me and Pris. Sir Reinhardt.”

She bowed low while holding both hands against her knees. Despite wearing a large piece of beige linen cloth for makeshift clothes, her bigger figure, longer hair and sharper eyes made her look deceptively mature.

Reinhardt shook his head and also bowed slightly as he spoke.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

He swallowed dry, but a bitter aftertaste lingered in his mouth.

“No, please. It’s fine.” Rionara shook both her hands while trying to usher him to raise his head. “You all rescued me from that place and I couldn’t ask for more.”

Priscilla wore an exhausted expression on her face as she bowed her head slowly.

“Thank you for your assistance, sir Reinhardt.” She winced when straightening her back as her wounds ached like wildfire. “But we should head back to the inn. Me and Rio need some rest.”

“Sure thing.” He nodded. “Do you want me to accompany you two?”

“That won’t be needed.” Priscilla interjected with a modest shake of her hand. Without wasting any time, she turned to the alleyway and gently nudged Rionara on the arm. “Farewell.”

“Hope to see you again tomorrow, sir Reinhardt.”

He waved as he watched them both disappear into the alley. A brief moment later, Elaine approached him from behind and asked.

“Are you sure you shouldn’t have used your healing? You could have her owe you a favor.”

“The Goddess’ blessing shouldn’t be used that way.” He spoke without turning around. “Miss Priscilla’s eyes were just like mine when I was exiled. I don’t want to make her feel indebted to me.”

Elaine averted her eyes to the ground while sighing.

“Heh. You haven’t changed one bit.”

“I know.”

While shuffling and dragging her feet, Priscilla was slowly making her way to the central square. She could feel heat radiate from the wounds she received and her body felt feverish.

“Haa… haa…”

Though her insides felt warm, her forehead was full of cold beads of sweat. Rionara walked barefoot beside her—the cold hard stone didn’t feel too bad thanks to her bigger frame that didn’t cool down as much. But none of that bothered the young woman more than seeing Priscilla’s pained expression.

“Pris, do… do you want help?”

“Hm…?” The knight looked at her with a side glance and forced herself to smile. “I wouldn’t say no to a shoulder to lean on.”

That made her smile warmly before awkwardly tucking herself underneath Priscilla’s left arm.

“Hehe, I can be your support from now on.”

With quiet resignation, the young girl and the knight kept going through the quiet streets. The sun was settling in the distance and the street lamps were starting to flicker alight. Adventurers and workers were coming back from their respective jobs, but unlike before, some were starting to glance at their direction.

At first Priscilla thought those stares were directed at her, but the more she looked around, she realized they weren’t looking at her. They were looking at Rionara.

“An elf?”

“A really beautiful one on top of that.”

“Why is she wearing rags?”

The knight could pick up these whispers amongst the crowd. The men especially were attentive to Rionara’s figure. Something that didn’t exactly help with Priscilla’s mood as she said firmly.

“Rio, you can pick up the pace.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, it’s best if we don’t linger outside too much. I’m… not in my best shape.”

“O-okay, tell me if I should slow down.”

“Mhm.”

Rionara’s definition of picking up the pace wasn’t exactly what the knight expected, as she almost broke into a jog while lugging the knight like a sack of potatoes. Though a bit painful, they got where they needed to be in less time than she anticipated.

“Haa…” Priscilla could feel her body scream for rest as she stood in front of the bustling inn. “Let’s go upstairs, Rio. I need to rest for a bit.”

“S-sure.”

As they entered the inn, both Gerolt and Karla came running once they saw Priscilla.

“Hey Lass! Are you alright?!”

Gerolt was the first one to grab her right arm to support her weight. Karla on the other hand looked at Rionara with suspicion clear in her eyes.

“Are you…?”

“Sorry, this is a friend of mine.” Priscilla hurriedly explained while motioning with her chin towards the young woman. “She—she helped me get Rionara to safety. Her name is Jeanne.”

Though taken aback by her improvisation, Rionara didn’t say a word. Instead, trusting the knight’s decision was the best thing she could do at that point.

“I… see…” Karla spoke while her gaze slowly moved from the young woman back to Priscilla. “Let’s get you upstairs then.”

She motioned with her hand and another man of similar build of Gerolt’s flanked the knight. He gently pushed Rionara aside before holding Priscilla’s left leg and with Gerolt’s help, they both lifted her up and carried her upstairs.

Rionara was about to follow them before the innkeeper grabbed her shoulder and said.

“Take good care of her, okay?”

“Ah.” For a moment, she felt Karla knew who she was and she simply smiled before nodding firmly. “I will.”

As Rionara climbed up the stairs, the innkeeper kept looking at her back with a saddened expression on her face.

“Oh, child… what happened to you…?”