Chapter Text
“What a mess.”
Standing up on wobbly legs, Dagur gaped at the slime dripping wet down his clothes. He propped himself up on the hilt of his blade. Swallowing back thickly, taking a few deep breaths to reorient himself. A large severed mass of tentacle twitched at the foot of his boot. In his peripherals he caught the movement before he abruptly stabbed it, his whole body shivering with disgust. Sinking his long blade deep into the foreign pudgy flesh until the wriggling stopped. The thing was practically the size of his torso.
“Let's get the hell out of here already.” Dagur mumbled through a hot breath. Zal shot him a semi smug and amused glance from across the room and only shook her head. Brushing her hair with her hand and throwing her shoulders back to let the long coat flow behind her shoulders. A thick silky white and grey fur coat hung around her shoulders, surprisingly well kept and soft despite its years of neglect. Without a second thought, she stepped over the tentacle and made her way towards the exit.
Dagur followed suit, quickly wanting to leave this mess behind. He couldn't help but grit his teeth in annoyance at the way she flaunted her newly found fur coat. “You're lucky I don't just hug you right now.” Dagur threatened with an annoyed tone, still swiping off thick globs of wet slime.
“Oh? Bold to think I won't sink my dagger into you if you try.” She rolled her eyes. She couldn't help but toss another amused glance back at him.
The day was winding down to an end. They had finished clearing out the remains of an old antique shop. Long abandoned, sitting emptily along the outskirts of an abandoned stone village that sat tucked in a crater. The great grandson of the previous owner had commissioned the two of them to clear out the place in order to collect whatever goods were inside. The deal being that the two adventurers could keep anything valuable they found as payment. It had gone down without a hitch. Until Dagur picked up the wrong relic, that summoned an ancient eldritch being from the depths of hell. But nothing they couldn't handle. All in a day's work.
The two of them trudged along on horseback, returning to the nearest city where they were currently lodging. Dagur couldn't help but wince at all the newly formed bruises from his encounter not too long ago. His waist felt especially torn up. Desperately he craved a shower to wash off the muck caked on his clothes and skin. Thankfully they stopped by a creek on the return trip back. It wasn't a hot bath, but it would do.
“Thank the gods, let's get our pay and a well deserved round of mead.” Dagur sighed upon returning to the city. Both adventurers slumped with exhaustion, welcoming the clamoring of the city, which signified a break was not far off.
Dagur gingerly rubbed his abdomen, noticeably paler than when they left the village. But he hadn't seemed to take notice. Zal on the other hand sent a few confused glances in his direction, but overall chalked it up to nothing. Knowing full well how tired they both were.
“Well deserved, tch-” She replied sarcastically with a scoff, “let's maybe keep that whole relic thing to ourselves by the way.”
“Oh believe me, I'm working hard to forget that ever happened.” Dagur laughed, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Ooh hey! We haven't gotten a chance to check out the local street vendors yet. I'm dying to try some of the food.” Dagur added suddenly enthusiastically. Whipping his head in either direction as soon as he caught sight of the shops and vendors.
“Don’t worry. I'm certain we'll have time to stop for that bottomless stomach of yours.” Zal reassured with a soft chuckle. Kneading the leather reins beneath her soft hands. They were staying overnight at a local inn, so it wouldn't hurt to give the city market a look through. Zal didn't admit it, but she was feeling pretty hungry herself. They would have a little extra money to spend after they collected their reward.
Their horses were put up in the stable for the night and they went and collected the money from the owner of the antique store. Zal had only taken the fur coat from the shop as a reward while Dagur had left with nothing, since the only thing that had piqued his interest was now buried deep in the ground of one of the abandoned buildings in the village. They had determined the safest place for such a relic was hidden away from any misfortunate soul who may stumble upon it.
Afterwards they made their way to the city plaza, browsing all the street vendors. Filling up on small local delicacies, careful not to purge what little extra spending money they had. While Dagur boasted knowing each and every origin of every dish. Zal only rolled her eyes and laughed each time he butted heads with the vendors.
They wandered through the brightly lit maze of shops when one in particular caught Zal's eyes. More out of intrigue, she went over and sat at one of the empty seats in front of the stall. Dagur watched her curiously as he gnawed on what looked like chunks of honey roasted lamb on a stick. He sat down beside her with a hefty thump, rather in contrast to the way she gracefully seated herself. Followed by carelessly tossing away the empty stick and running his wrist across his mouth and chin.
This particular stall was dimly lit and quiet, steam fumed into the air from a massive pot. A butcher facing away from them, slicing and cleaning fresh meat. Dagur heard Zal order something, but an odd sour vinegary smell made him decide to opt out of ordering here. The butcher slammed a large knife across the cutting board. A faint squeal echoed and what looked like could only be tentacles were dragged across the cutting board. Dark green and red fluid smeared across the surface of the wooden board.
Dagur suddenly felt vile. He glanced away, feeling overwhelming heat swell over his whole body. The butcher turned and ladled something mossy green and grey out of a large pot and set the small bowl in front of Zaleria. As well as a pair of chopsticks, which she seemed to handle with ease. Dagur had seen them once before and had no damn clue how they even worked.
Dagur watched her eat with an uncertain glare. Subtly he brushed his fingertips over his abdomen taking note of the sudden fullness that settled in his stomach. Movement rippled across the surface of the soup. With a splash, a tentacle sloshed out of the soup, squirming wildly as it slopped over the side and flopped on the table. The squealing noise it emitted echoed in the back of his mind. A gag rolled up his throat and he covered his mouth and looked away. “How the hell can you eat that?” He muttered with disgust.
Zal looked over at him, confused. “Tofu?” She asked with complete innocence. Holding up a small white cube pinched between the two sticks.
Dagur glanced over again and the soup was completely still. White cubes and threads of seaweed floated in the tan broth. “Uh yeah.” He replied, looking intently to find where the tentacle had disappeared to.
Zal furrowed her brows. Dagur pointed to her soup, completely dismissive. “Could you stir that around a little?” He asked, not taking his eyes off the bowl once. Craning his head down to inspect the soup in an oddly comical fashion.
“It's just miso soup. You are certainly one to judge. I watched you eat an eyeball or whatever the hell that was back there.” Zal looked at him with a semi annoyed expression. She noticed his out of place, almost bewildered expression as he eyed her soup. “You can stop staring at my food, it's getting weird.”
Dagur looked up at his surroundings and suddenly noticed that it was in fact a brightly colored ramen stall. The owner held a fresh handful of uncooked ramen, intently watching several large pots bubble and glow with vibrant colors. Dagur glanced back at the cutting board, fresh with vegetable juice and a thick cut of beef. No sign of the tentacle looking creature that had just been sliced. Not even the mild indication of a seafood misconception. “I coulda sworn…” Dagur mumbled to himself in disbelief.
Zal was still rather confused. Awkwardly she picked at the contents of her bowl. “Uh well wanna try some? You might like it.” She suggested. Truthfully unsure how to react to how he was behaving.
Settling back in his seat, Dagur sighed to himself. He had only had ramen once or twice in his life. But the thought of it didn't sit well with him tonight. “Actually, I think I'm gonna head back to the inn. I'm kinda tired.” Dagur told her and got up rather quickly. “If you see any good desserts, grab one for me.” He added with a chuckle.
Zal didn't really have a chance to say anything before he had already taken off. She couldn't help but feel that he probably didn't want to be the reason she had to head back as well, hence his abrupt leave. Although she did want to ask if he was okay, but it would probably yield little to no useful answer. She did however take note of the way his shoulders sagged and one hand precariously rubbed the side of his abdomen as he walked off. Not to mention the sweat beads that had formed along his temple while he had been sitting beside her. As she watched him disappear into the crowd he bumped into a few civilians, anxiously apologizing before tucking his head down and rushing off.
“Suit yourself.” She mumbled to herself with a breathy sigh.
The inn upon arriving was lively as usual. A roaring fire lit up the drinking hall vibrant with patrons and the steady tunes of a bard. It was early enough in the evening, meaning the hall wasn’t half as lively as it would reach by a certain time of night. The warmth was welcoming as Zal stepped inside, feeling the redness of her cheeks blume with heat. A faint smell of liquor and roasted foods lingered in the air. But not complete without the bitter dew of sweat and male musk. Upon scanning the room, Zal was quick to realize the bar was missing a rather boisterous addition. Dagur was not among the crowd. In fact, she was rather surprised that he was not black out drunk by this point already. Well, not that she could confirm this just by him not being in the room, but it was usually how it went down. Scoffing to herself in disbelief, she headed up to her room to drop off her things. Deciding to see if Dagur was still awake, she gently approached his door before knocking on it.
“Come in.” He responded groggily.
She opened the door, before abruptly looking away. “Dag, you can't say come in if you're changing.” She sighed with exasperation. Pinching her forehead with her thumb and forefinger.
Dagur was mid peeling his shirt over his head and glanced over at her. “What? It's nothing you haven't seen before.” He remarked innocently.
Zal rolled her eyes and glanced back up, a strange vision stained her eyes from when she first saw him. Just as she had suspected. “Good gods.” She uttered in disbelief.
A massive black and purple bruise painted Dagur's side, torquing up his flesh. He moved stiffly as he took his shirt over his arms, tossing it on the bed. Zal approached him, gingerly placing a hand over the swollen flesh. It was burning to the touch. Dagur flinched as soon she made contact with his skin. “It's fine, I've been banged up before.” He told her in a forced voice.
Of course this was the most noticeable one. His body was covered in purple and blue bruises. “Why didn’t you say something? You do realize this could be internal. You shouldn't let stuff like this go.” Zal told him in a serious tone.
“I already took an elixir, it's making the pain dull. I really just need sleep.” Dagur flinched away from her touch.
“Don’t be stubborn. Just let me help. That's what I'm here for.” Zal spoke in a tone that conveyed she wouldn't be taking any compromise. Zal pressed her hands up against the bruise and Dagur winced, fighting every urge to reel from her touch. Her hands glowed dimly and luminescent veins faintly coursed across his skin. It was anything but painless. A tear formed in Dagur's eye, he clenched his fist tightly around the bedpost, sucking in short stifled breaths through his teeth.
Zal closed her eyes, speaking quietly in her native tongue. It wasn't long until she finished. She stepped back as the glowing faded and the bruise already looked much better. It wouldn't go away completely right now, but it looked significantly less worse.
“That wasn't so bad you big baby.” She teased. Putting her hands on her hips with a smile. “Get some sleep. You need extra rest. I'll see you in the morning.” She told him in a warm tone.
Dagur rolled his eyes. “If you wanted an excuse to touch me, you could've just said so.” He retorted in a sarcastic tone.
“Good night idiot.” She shut the door abruptly.
“Goodnight.” He mumbled as she padded down the hall back to her room. He looked down at his abdomen, curiously poking it with his finger. It didn't hurt nearly as much, but it still ached. It was rather astonishing to him, no matter how many times he had seen her do that. Dagur shook his head with a sigh. Putting a night shirt on, he crawled into bed and put out the lantern.
…
Night, a placid creature, swallowing the day in its essence. Coaxing the world into sleep. Even as long as the day stirs, and night settles, ruination still fills the dark. Zaleria was very well aware of this as she sat drifting in and out of a sleepless state.
Suddenly the door thudded before creaking open with little time in-between. Her heart thrust in her chest as a limp figure leaned in the doorway. Its ill posture deceived its mortal form. She grasped her blade, already poised. Her body set to bound from the bed and spear this individual. But she hesitated, leaning to the side as she flicked a match before lighting the lantern up beside the bed. Bronze ochre light flooded the room, rippling against the dim wooden walls.
“I'd recognize that lanky figure anywhere…” She mumbled to herself. “Dagur what the hell?? Couldn't you have knocked!? You didn't have to scare the life out of me like that.” Zal somewhat reprimanded. But quickly got over her annoyance.
“Sorry. Didn't mean to wake you.” Dagur swallowed back in a thick tone, sounding distastefully garbled. He had already let himself in and dropped into the empty chair beside the bed. His whole body drooped weakly in the seat. His hand rested limp over his abdomen. “Felt like I was gonna pass out if I didn't.”
Zal inspected him from her seated position on the bed. He was frightfully pale. His forehead was coated in a sheen of sweat. His nightshirt had a strange dark stain running down his chest, faintly soaked with sweat along his collar. Every breath he took seemed to settle like a heavy weight over his body, rattling in his lungs.
“I was awake already, it's fine. But you look like hell. What happened?” She asked with concern, sliding herself to the edge of the bed.
Dagur groaned in his throat. “I think I'm sick or dinner ain't sitting so hot.” He muttered in an insecure tone. “Just puked up my guts for the better part of an hour.”
Zal glanced down to hide her worried expression. “You don't have a fever do you?” She inquired.
“Dunno, I'm really cold though.” Dagur mumbled with a wince. His hand pinched his side, itching over his stomach. There was frantic energy to the way his hand pried at the cloth over his abdomen. Pale white blossomed along his knuckles as the tendons on his hands flexed with a tight grip.
Zal sat up, scooting off the bed. “Well, I'm afraid I can't heal you if you're sick. At least not if it's the flu or food poisoning. But I can probably help soothe your stomach. I've also got some potions that might help. Or we could stop at an alchemy shop for something.” Zal suggested.
Dagur only muttered incoherently. “I don't wanna stay here…”
Zal sighed. She walked over to Dagur, not bothering to ask his permission. She had gotten used to his hijinks by now and unfortunately sometimes had to act as a somewhat parental figure. Even if she didn't want to, her age basically demanded it. He was hopeless otherwise.
“Well, I don't know where else to take you. Especially not in the middle of the night.” Zal gently placed her hands along his abdomen. “Extra sleep will help als-” Zal stopped. His skin felt rather... squishy? She pulled away her right hand as dampness crept up her palm. “Wha-”
“Stand up.” She ordered abruptly, stepping back to give him room.
Dagur whined in response before dizzily bringing himself to his feet. He too noticed this new found feeling on his waist. Dagur shakily pinched the end of his shirt with one hand, peeling it over the damp spot of his skin. His eyes widened. The sight that met him was something he was convinced his brain couldn't conjure up if he tried.
Movement. A black boiling goo seeped from his skin swirled with the rotten purple smudged bruise. Underneath, his skin bulged and a small bump rippled beneath his flesh. Nervously, he prodded the lump buried beneath a layer of black ooze. Pus gushed from a breach in his skin pore, discharging like a burst pimple. Surfacing from beneath the muck, the short stubby face of an insect resembling a leech, squirmed out of his skin. Two more followed suit from different exit points on his abdomen. Gnawing through his flesh as they burrowed in and out of his bruised flesh. Congealed blood dripped down his skin, disappearing into the black churning hive. Dagur reached down, gripping an obsidian chunk halfway protruding from his swollen flesh, tearing it away as hot tar like fluid trailed off the wriggling bug. Sat pinched between his trembling thumb and forefinger, the ink black grub thrashed angrily. Wrapping its smooth rear and front around his finger flesh. The slight pinch of suction gripped his fingertip as it latched itself on him.
“What the fuck.” Zal's mouth was agape. She subconsciously backed away, a look of horror painted her eyes.
Dagur suddenly struggled to breathe. His fingers pressed aggressively between the bug, squeezing it until it popped like a grape. Dark brown and red fluid flooded out both ends of it, dribbling down his fingers with an audible splat on the ground, consistent with the texture of cottage cheese.
“Zal.” Dagur's voice trembled
Zal didn't respond, unable to take her eyes off the disgusting mass. Her eyes grazed Dagur’s expression, as what little color remained had completely drained leaving him looking near seconds from collapsing on the floor.
“ Zal- ” This time more urgent, his voice sounding as if he had suddenly been lynched.
“ Move-!”
Dagur reached forward, abruptly shoving Zal away from him. His hand wrapped around his waist, nails digging into his side as he leaned down. Lurching his body forward as his neck strained, a vein popped against the flesh of his neck.
What followed next was a horrible amalgam of something out of a nightmare. A wretched stream of the chunkiest vomit Dagur had ever experienced in his life. His throat bulged as a thick slurry of black ink flooded out of his throat, hitting the ground with an aggressive reverb, splashing up the wall of the small dresser beside the bed.
Squirming tentacle shaped parasites flooded out his mouth, slicking his esophagus on the way out. He could feel the way each and every one of them squished their living bodies against his tight throat, straining to choke him as they had no choice but to try and cling to his insides. Heaving and retching loudly as the gurgling sound of reverse drowning filled the room.
The puddle of sick moved and crawled across the floor, bubbling like a pot of soup as the creatures sloshed about, frantically trying to dig their way into the floor. The smell that permeated the air was that of burning oil and rotten meat. Pungent and fresh, quickly rotting the wooden floors.
Zal stood back, watching in utter horror. Subconsciously cupping her nose and mouth as her eyes were wide open and her jaw agape. As terrible and disgusting as it was, she desperately wanted to look away, but her eyes were glued in disbelief. Words strangled in her throat and for the first time in eons, not a single solution scrawled itself to life in her brain.
“Ungghh….” Dagur gasped heavily, black snot and spit dripped down his face. Frantically, he wiped at his chin and nose. He stifled a thick wet burp beneath his hands, painfully rolling itself up his raw throat. He coughed and spit, a thick slimy bug slid off his tongue. Hitting the ground with an audible splat. His vision blurred and focused. Watching the portal he had produced, large black tentacles writhed in and out of it. Whipping frantically as they seemed to slip and slide between one another. His sight lined with dark red edges as a bleary white noise screeched in his head.
It was so loud, why was it so loud? Dagur covered his ears huffing for air as the nauseating pulse of white noise blared in his ears. Words burned to life in the air with insidious intent. A voice riddled with heavy tones thick with a forbidden language hissed loudly in Dagur's head. Weighing down his whole foundation, everything began to fade to dark.
Damp wet blood seeping through the fabric of his shirt brought him back to a dizzying reality. Dagur gasped again, his vision clearing as the tentacles in his head retreated and he was left staring at a murky black pile filled with parasites. Trembling, he held his hands out to see red blood dappled the rims of his nails running down his fingers. A subtle sting radiated across both sides of his abdomen just below his ribcage.
“Zal- what's happening to me??” Dagur choked out, his voice brimming with terror. He shot a frenzied look her way. One of his eyes was flooded with red.
Zal fought back a gasp. The smell alone made her reflexively gag under her breath. “I- I don't know-” She admitted.
“What?!?” Dagur's brows furrowed with utter concern and disbelief. He choked on his next words, lacking the breath to form whatever panicked sentence might've followed next. His eyes stared straight down at the floor, a hopelessness quickly consumed them.
There was something frightening about watching a usually confident and proud man completely fall to shambles within moments before her eyes. To see such a foreign plague of emotion overwhelm him, was something she didn't think she would ever begin to understand.
Dagur pitched forward and groaned, nearly collapsing under his own weight. He slumped against the bedpost, his whole body visibly trembling. Zal quickly reached towards him, grasping his arm to steady him. Then abruptly pulled him closer to her. He was hunched low, gripping his waist, so she could easily put her arm around his back in a semi comforting way. But mostly so she could steer him out of the room.
“It's gonna be okay, we should leave here though. This is not something I can heal on my own. We'll go to an alchemist and see what they have to offer.” Zal suddenly found it in herself to dawn a calm and reassuring tone. Despite not really knowing what to do. She was more afraid of what might happen if neither of them could play the part of cool and collected.
She rested him against the wall and stepped back, easing her hands in the air in a way to make sure he wouldn't fall over. “Stay here. I'm going to grab our stuff real quick and we'll go. Just hang on until then.” She told him in a patient tone, hiding the panic that threatened to tremble her voice.
Dagur leaned back against the wall, weakly nodding before craning his head back. The Adam's apple in his throat bobbed visibly as he swallowed back dryly. He closed his eyes momentarily to give them relief from the strain of being so exhausted. A dull ache radiated across his right eye, giving way to a piercing headache across his temple and between both eyes.
Zaleria was quick heading back into her room, covering her mouth and nose with her sleeve upon entering. With haste, she gathered her things, stopping to rummage around in her small bag before unearthing a small sealed vial. She took it out and slung her things over her shoulder, regrettably glancing down at the puddle that continued to disperse itself across the floor. The black slugs had already made it halfway to the wall. Leaving threads of black ink in trails branching out into an eerie rorschach splatter. Zal uncorked the vial and dumped its contents over the mess, swiftly exiting the room once the contents were emptied. The puddle began to bubble and boil and all the insects squealed as dark green fog arose from the liquid. The writhing creatures began rapidly boiling alive and curling in on themselves. The choir of agonized shrill screeching like nails to a chalkboard died down almost as soon as it had started.
Zal then went to Dagur's room, muttering to herself when she saw how messy he kept his things. Thankfully he didn't have too much on him, she quickly gathered everything up and stuffed it into his bag before double checking the room to make sure she had collected everything. There was one problem upon exiting and standing in the hallway, Zaleria realized how much heavier Dagur's things were. Not that the extra weight was a problem. But she had to account for the man that was a whole head taller than her and probably weighed triple what she did.
“Think you can walk on your own?” She asked with a quiet sigh.
“Mm? Yeah, think so.” He groggily answered. He was busy pawing at a grey tinged trail of spit from his lips down his chin across his fingers. Stringing it through his fingers like some kind of putty. Carefully he pushed himself from the wall. Easing one hand against it to support his weight.
“Good. Cause I'm not carrying your gargantuan ass.” She huffed with a cheeky grin. Walking up beside him, she hesitantly offered her shoulder. “But I suppose you can steady yourself on me if you need to. That is if your pride isn’t still on the line.”
Dagur nodded in response, hinting at a shallow chuckle. The both of them headed towards the entrance of the inn. Dagur trudged very slowly, giving Zaleria no choice but to steady her quick pace and take patient steps with him. He only used the aid of her shoulder once as they had to descend a flight of stairs.
“Well, don't think it's food poisoning.” Dagur remarked in an obvious, rather loopy tone.
Zal forced a quiet laugh, “yeah no kidding.” It was hard to smile, but she could tell Dagur was trying to keep some semblance of himself intact. So she forced a small grin if not to encourage him but to calm her own racing mind.
Upon stepping outside of the inn, Dagur went and rested against the railing. Zal was figuring out where the nearest alchemy shop was and how difficult it might be to make it there. Getting their horses was an option, but if Dagur couldn't even get on then there was little to no point.
Zal glanced over at Dagur who had his shirt peeled up again and was groaning in disgust at his own body. A few slugs fell out of the mass, slapping the ground with wet thuds. Zal noticed Dagur's face tinged with green again and she quickly ran over, yanking his shirt back down to cover the mess.
“Stop looking at it!” Zal ordered. “We can't do anything about it just yet so no point in freaking yourself out more.”
“That's easy for you to say, you don't have to feel it all over your skin.” Dagur retorted. The slime had already soaked through the lower half of his shirt. Making it drip and ooze black goo. He stood facing the outside railing, gripping tightly with both hands, deeply focused on his breathing. “Or inside of it-” Dagur spoke in a low tone, stifling a gag with his fist. His body shuddered.
Zal caught herself intently staring at his shirt and she shook her head, quickly looking away. “Focus on something else!” Zal interjected. “Now, there's an alchemy shop not too far away. I've gone there before. Hopefully they'll let us in this late, I just need to make something to buy us time until we figure this out.”
“Buy us time??” Dagur suddenly asked, immediately shifting his gaze to her.
“Uh- I don't mean to say it's fatal, I don't really know. But it's better to treat this as an emergency than put it off you know?” Zal quickly replied, before Dagur could overthink what she said.
Dagur swallowed thickly, “Yeah yeah, I know. I've certainly had stab wounds worse than this.” He chuckled nervously.
“Exactly. Although I’m not sure how a stab wound correlates to parasites crawling in and out of your skin.” Zal noted.
Dagur dry heaved over the railing. “Zal-!” He choked in annoyance.
“Sorry!!” She put her hands up and flinched. “Come on, let's get moving.” She was already grabbing his arm to steer him along. He didn't fight it but stumbled along.