Scales that Creep

The monster that excreted constant spurts of blood and putrid oil with each movement lurched towards Aelem. However, in the single second it stood face-to-face with her, its gaze shivered, and it halted in its tracks. For a moment, it just stared at the orange-eyed woman in front of it, its breaths heavy on the cold air.

The dragon’s will that had taken over- that incessant violence that begs to kill stood still, unmoving. The blood and oil continued to pour out of the cracks in its skin, pooling underneath it with a sickening smell. Then, its unbelieving expression ceased. The horribly-disfigured figure began to fall towards the ground. On one knee, the figure bowed its head towards Aelem.

A raspy voice with deep intonation spoke out.

“King.”

Aelem reached out a hand. The black scales on her neck gradually shifted along her skin like liquid- living, churning. It writhed and twisted along her arm until settling on her fingertips. As her hand touched upon its shoulder, she spoke out in an oddly deep tone of voice. It sounded quite unlike her- dark, gristly, otherworldly.

“Good work, Heloth.” Aelem’s usually-still expression curled up into a grin. “You’ve done well, guarding this place from harm.”

The creature named Heloth didn’t respond immediately.

“Is it painful?”

“Quite.” Heloth said, his gaze lowered. “I didn’t know it was you, Lord. Sorry.”

“It’s all right, Heloth. You were just doing as I instructed you.”

The orange-eyed figure glanced over to the side, where the doll-like knight had fallen unconscious.

“How long has it been?”

“Fifty years has passed, my Lord.” The creature remained bowing.

“Good, good. Not too long, then.” The grasp that Aelem had on Heloth’s shoulder tightened, digging into the putrid flesh of his decaying form.

“Heloth, what is my name?”

Heloth’s eyes widened, the scaly skin around his eyelids cracking. “My Lord…? Your name…? Why… do you want to know your own name?”

“Heloth. Tell me my name.”

“My Lord, you don’t know your own name…?”

“Heloth.”

Heloth slowly glanced upwards at Aelem. Her eyes had stretched inhumanely wide, the slitted pupils in the center wildly pulsating. It was maddening, terrifying to even the abomination that Heloth was.

“My Lord… are you really… my Lord?”

Heloth felt the fiery agony of his cheek being dragged against the rough texture of the stone beneath him, his putrid oily blood spilling against the rubble. Grasping at his hair, Aelem slammed his head into the rocks repeatedly, not making a sound as she did so.

Her straight-faced expression, that was the most terrifying aspect to Heloth. It wasn’t that he was being ground against the stone bit-by-bit, or even that his Master who he thought had finally returned was trying to kill him, it was that he was doing it without a semblance of emotion.

“L-Lord-“ Heloth sputtered, “your- your n-name-“

Aelem stopped for a moment, holding his face above the ground to hear him out. Blood and oil continued to drip down in sheets onto the stone below, like a horrid portraiture. Heloth glanced at Aelem with his swollen, bruised eyes, and grinned with the few teeth he had remaining.

“It’s- it’s a secret you’ve left for me to take to the grave. That’s how I was supposed to know- it was no longer you that remained.”

Aelem stood up from where she had been kneeling, raising her foot into the air. Blood and thick-greyish brain tissue flew through the air, the brittle remnants of a skull cracking underneath her boot.

“Useless. All useless,” she muttered.

In the silence of the ruined cavern, she let out a heavy breath. The pitch-black scales festered on her pink skin, irritated by the writhing presence of the Dragon’s remnant will. Her eyes darted back and forth throughout the cavern. It was once a shrine for the followers of the Dragon, so it must have been that it was written down somewhere.

“Tsk. How much time remains for her to stay under my control? Can I search this much in that time?”

“Aelem!” A voice shouted from behind her. Two hands grasped at her shoulders, spinning her around to face the shocked expression of the Doll Knight. Her eyes shuddered, but she continued to bear her teeth, which had grown sharp like needles.

She swiped a hand towards him, which he blocked with the heft of his vambrace, forcing her to the ground in the next instant.

“Calm yourself, Aelem.” His eyes were serious, yet warm. “I don’t think you’re lost just yet.”

“You know nothing!” She spat. The heavy presence of a grating voice rested underneath her words.

Then, her eyes shuddered once more. The fiery-orange colour began to seep outwards, her normal hue returning. The scales that had been writhing on the surface of her flesh gradually returned to their normal place on her neck, under the influence of Omen’s seal. Her teeth unsharpened themselves, and the claws on her hands dissipated.

She blinked once, unaware of her environment. Then, she recalled her meeting with the true personality of the Dragon.

Staring up at the man atop her, Aelem blushed. “Is this your way of making a move on me?”

“Not at all.” Omen stood up, reaching out his hand to help her.

After she had stood up alongside him, Aelem glanced around, spotting the decaying corpse of the Leviathan they had fought. All the while, she had been conscious of the Dragon’s will.

‘His power… it’s akin to letting myself go completely. Was it one of his tricks? Or was he being genuine? Why didn’t he tell me that would happen?’

It was clear that the Dragon’s will harbored a danger that needed to be purged.