All That Is Left Behind

"…Are you sure this one lives?" A voice as sharp as a dagger's edge asks. "The spark within her flickers on the brink."

"In the way that matters, yes. It still flickers enough to cast light," replies a gentle tone weathered by years of experience.

"Then it is not enough to just disarm her. We need to prepare wards and restraints just in case."

"There will be none of that, Inigo. Her visit was no crusade."

"How can we be so sure? We've known that another purge will arrive on our doorstep soon. What's if she's a scout probing our defenses? The stories of her saving thousands are one thing, but the crests on her armor show that she's sworn to their lies! Why else would they call her Retribution?!"

"Did you not see her fight with the thorns? Do you not sense the conflict in her heart? Do you not feel the passion that she has for life? You know as I do that she could’ve dispatched any of us instead of avoiding us last night."

"What if you're wrong though? What if we cannot convince her? If she lashes out with her power, she could endanger everything that we've sacrificed to obtain!"

"I understand your concerns, but while this wayward soul is conflicted, she would not do something so reckless."

"But—"

"Hush, you know the code that we follow. Do you not remember when we first found you by the entrance of the Dire?"

"…I suppose you have a point, elder. Just know that if she steps one foot out of line, then I will personally—"

"Yes, yes. I understand your oath well. Now come, we've done all that we can for now. The rest of this fight won't be settled until she's awakened."

***

When I come to, I'm in an unfamiliar room and swaddled by the plush of a mattress and sheets. The atmosphere is quiet with only the sounds of birdsong drifting in from the window and the colors of sunrise painting the walls magenta and gold. However, despite the softness of my surroundings, it's unfamiliar to me.

"Where am I…?"

The last thing I remember is my trek to the Althea and my attempt to cure myself. Everything else is blurred with a pain that lingers in my mind, and I can't seem to parse exactly what happened. However, just like the blanket atop me, I brush the fragments of memory aside and attempt to seek answers from my surroundings.

If there's one thing that's immediately clear, I'm not where I once was. Gone is the mirrored chamber of the Althea, replaced instead by a strange stone-walled bedroom. The air smells of a strange floral incense in this space only sizable enough to accommodate a bed, table, and washbasin atop a dresser. To my left is a window that looks out over the forest of the Dire that spans leagues in all directions—a completely different sight to the night before, and on the opposite end of the room is a solid wooden door.

Whether I have been kidnapped or saved remains to be seen, though at the very least most of my belongings are here. My holy blade is worryingly missing from its sheath, but my armor and bag have been set to the side of the bed, and I've been changed into a long-sleeved tunic and leggings that hide most of my frame.

Unfortunately I also notice something that my new garments do little to obscure—the blaring redness of my hands and sharp talons where my nails should've been.

"W-what is this? What happened to me?"

I try to think back to what happened and then, just at that moment, everything falls into place as the echo of last night returns in a flood. The emptiness, the rose garden, the horror of becoming different, it all comes crashing down like a tidal wave.

"No. That cannot be true!"

I hesitantly approach the washbasin and close my eyes. With hope and desperation in my thoughts, I pray by the gods' mercy that I will shall see myself in the water.

Unfortunately, when I open my eyes, I see something else staring back. Where my reflection should be is a monster that mirrors my every movement, from the disgust in my face to the trembling of my hands. Its skin is a scarlet more vibrant than blood; flames flicker from the waves of its hair; giant leathered wings unfurl from its back like a fallen seraph; and horns darker than night pierce the skin of its forehead in a way that would be beautiful were it not for its grotesqueness.

After staring wordlessly in shock, I immediately try to channel the divine magic within me to dispel this façade and return me to the form that I'm meant to be.

However, despite my faith, nothing responds to my plea and I remain completely unchanged.

I slap myself to wake myself up; I dig my nails deep enough to draw blood; I even and call out to the heavens for salvation. Yet just as it was before, there's nothing but absent silence. The most I can stir is embers and flames that erupt from my hands.

Wetness trails down my cheeks as reality hits me. After all of my struggles to get here—all of my years of discipline—is this what I've become? A mockery of the hero that I was meant to be?!

No, I cannot let this be my fate! I don't understand what happened with the ritual nor why it was interrupted, but perhaps I can still find a way to cure myself if I make my way back to the Althea.

Doing my best to shove down the horror of my new form, I try to find a way out from this place. The door is stuck shut no matter how hard I try to use it, but the window is open to the air, so I stumble toward it to look outside. It's a far drop to the ground below—perhaps a few stories tall—but it should be survivable if I angle myself right.

Unwilling to lose any more time, I quickly grab my pack and equip my gauntlets before climbing on the windowsill and preparing to jump.

*fwoosh*

Or at least I attempt to before something suddenly pulls me back and sprawls me to the floorboards.

"What the hells are you doing?!" A voice sharply shouts.

My head spins around as I look toward the source of the interruption: a muscular, blue-skinned ogre standing in the doorway with a tray spilled at his feet. Glowing marks run along his four arms, intense eyes like lightning glare holes in me, and a singular ivory horn juts from his forehead that emanates an intense aura.

Was this the one who brought me here? A Sintouched?! I'm instantly on edge, because while it doesn't seem that this one has a weapon, I've been warned that they are just as dangerous with their tongues as they are with their blades.

"Stay back, devil! I don't know your goal, but I won't be converted no matter what foul tactics you try!"

"Please step away from the window," he says with stern eyes. "I just want to talk."

"Talk? Is that why I've been captured and disarmed?!"

"You were rescued, not captured. And as for your blade, it will be returned to you once we determine that the magics of the Althea have no more influence upon you."

My eyes flare wide with rage.

"Is it you that disrupted my ritual then?! Is it your fault that I've taken on this horrid form?!"

"We didn't do anything! Look, I know this may be a bit different, but could you please calm yourself—Oh, damn it. Not again."

Unwilling to let myself fall victim to whatever they have planned, I scramble back to the window. However, before I can climb out and vault to the forest below, I'm yanked back by tendrils and solid clouds conjure in the window frame to block further escape.

"There, now can you please just listen? My name is Inigo, and I wanted to make sure that—"

Before he can spout out more nonsense, I charge headfirst into his gut and knock him to the ground. He's extremely difficult to pin with his size, but I eventually overpower him.

"Unarmed or not, I have no qualms killing you if you keep getting in my way, Sintouched."

"By the gods, your strength was not exaggerated—"

I slam him in the head as a warning.

"Do not test me with your empty words. Either you let me go or you die right where you lay."

"Oh come on! We're just trying to help! If you let me explain, I can tell you exactly why you don't need to leave—"

Taking advantage of his distraction, I bash his horn to the floor then bolt for the open door. The world blurs and my heart drums as I dash down hallways and staircases, and while every step brings doubt to my heart, just as I've always done, I do my best to ignore it and focus solely on my objective.

Wherever this place is, it still seems to be in the Dire, so if I can just get outside, I can probably refind the Althea before long. The only issue is that I'm without my armaments and no longer have the cover of night, so more encounters with Sintouched are likely to happen.

"!" A horn suddenly blares through the air as wisps of cloud surge to cut off my escape.

"Halt, paladin!"

The ogre from before stumbles down the hall shaken but otherwise unharmed as fog glows in his hands.

Damn it. This is what I get for my weakness.

I look around for another way out before dashing into a room and shutting the door. It seems to be a closet with various tools hung up on the walls, and while none of them are weapons, I grab the closest thing to one: a fire iron.

The moment that he enters, I bash him with the blunt length of it and attempt to slip past. Unfortunately, while my blow was solid and sends embers cascading off my form, he doesn't stagger. Instead, he takes up a broomstick from the wall and pushes me back into the center of the floor.

"This is why I hate newcomers. I don't care about what reputation you have. We save your life and this is how you repay us? Resisting and acting holier than thou?!"

"You have done no such thing. My life is forfeit until the curse within me is purged!"

I thrust at the ogre to try and force my way out, but he deflects it into the wall with confusion on his face.

"Is that what this is about? Are you really still trying to go back to the Althea?"

"That's none of your business!"

"Paladin, I'm not sure what delusion you're still under, but you cannot go back to that place."

Anger spikes in my heart as I charge him into the wall, sending tools clattering to the ground and fire trailing from my hair.

"Quiet! If it weren't for your meddling, I would have already been Reformed instead of this!"

Something suddenly shifts in his gaze, and with great difficulty, he reverses our positions before restraining my limbs with wisps of mist.

"I did not shield you from the rose. But even if the ritual had been completed, that fate is not something you'd desire."

"Do not think you can speak for my needs, filth, especially when you've given into your sin!"

One of his fists splinters the wood next to my head.

"Sin?! I knew you would be stubborn, but to still believe those lies even after experiencing that blasted ritual firsthand? Are you that deluded?!"

"What? That I can be cured instead of forced to suffer for the rest of my life? If I don't return Reformed, I'll be hunted down by everyone that I knew until my corpse is cast aside like fodder. And that's not even accounting for this accursed pain! Do you know how long I've dealt with its burn?! Do you know how many nights I yearned for the sweet release of death, hoping that it would end?!"

Magic strains as I push back against his bonds. However, before I can break them, he reinforces the mist with surge of power and asks me with restrained calm,

"Do you feel that pain now?"

"What are you talking about?! I've borne it my whole life, of course I still… do…"

I trail off as I wait for it to flare up just like it always has before. Yet much to my surprise, the sensation never comes.

"W-what have you done?"

"Aside from granting you a bed to lay, nothing."

"Don't give me your lies. Tell me, why is it gone? Why does it not whisper or claw at my mind that something's wrong?"

For a long while he just stares into my eyes, clashing lightning against fire. Then with a sigh that drops his shoulders, he firmly answers.

"…Because you're finally you."