TRIGGER WARNING
This chapter may contain unsettling themes, not suitable for some audiences. Read with caution.

»»-----　★　-----««

The String and The Flame

Flame undying; string unending
The two mages came to rescue
The three children caught in a war,
Trapped in a gruesome, bloody view

»»-----　★　-----««

Eva blew a sharp breath to warm her freezing lips. She tucked herself to the corner, casually ignoring the string of disasters that fate decided to set on them. The silence was unchanging and ominous, and the longer she stayed by it, the more suffocated she felt.

"One, two, three," Eva counted in her mind. Each second passed, and there was nothing.

One thousand, fifty-two. One thousand, fifty-three. One thousand fifty—

Faun's delicate voice broke the silence. "Eva, come here." Her sound of concern reverberated throughout the stone room.

The maiden strolled towards the young lady. The air was warmer with the torch by their side, but still, Calvin wrapped himself in a nest of fabrics, shivering as if sinking in the snow.

"What's wrong?" Eva asked.

"He's burning."

Eva knelt on the cutting ground as she patted Calvin's temples with the back of her hand. Her skin heated within seconds of touching him. Her eyes widened.

"He's having a fever. It must be from his wounds."

She reached for the boy's wrist. His pulse throbbed against her fingertips, cold as ice. His smooth and pallid skin trembled in Eva's touch while she turned him to his side. She gently tore his tunic to reveal the wounds and bruises craved on his chest.

Faun gasped and turned away with a palm over her mouth. The deep gash pulsated with the boy's deep breathing, crude as a broken flute. Parched, yellow-white tissues surrounded the lesions, exposing his internal flesh to open air.

Seeing how the boy lay on a fabric drenched in blood, Eva took off her vest and replaced the one Faun had layered. She pulled out her shawl and wrapped it around Calvin's neck like a thick scarf.

"He's way more injured than we thought. These wounds are already infected."

She caressed the boy's flesh, resulting in him crying in agony. The wounds needed treatment, and if not, he might end up like Eva's father. She swallowed air before blanketing his body with his ragged tunic.

"I'm not going to lie, Calvin. We need a miracle to save you," she said as she rose.

"Master Darius will come for us. I know he will." Faun's palm clenched hard on Eva's arms. "All we need to do is to wait for him."

"And how long are we supposed to wait for that uncertain salvation?" She bit her lip, realizing she raised her voice more than she had intended. "I'm sorry, but if you still want to wait for your saviors, you're welcome to stay here."

Eva glanced down as she broke free from her grip. She shuffled toward the door, the key still hanging on its knob. She turned it, slowly pulling it open.

"Where are you going?" Faun asked.

She proceeded to move out, slamming the door behind.

So this is where it ends, huh. Calvin's now a liability, and well, Faun will never leave his side. Standing and waiting for two knights in shining armor to sweep in and save the day is stupidity. I'll escape, even if I have to do it alone.

But how about them? Can they survive without me? Can I survive without them?

As she turned around, the door had clasped its lock. She pressed her hand forward, but it didn't budge. It was too late for regrets. It was too late for excuses.

Eva moved east, following the line of torches that lit the empty corridors. Her steps were nimble but silent—a skill she learned when hunting rabid deers during her past life. She passed by the room where they were first confined; it didn't open.

They haven't realized we've escaped yet. It's the perfect opportunity to strike.

Her palm traced against the stone wall, scathing against the rough grits. Between the stone bricks, green mosses thrived, along with little bugs creeping through its crevices. The biting smell of alcohol escalated as she wandered deeper through the dungeon of countless doors.

Eva arrived at her fifth sharp turn. She squatted on the wall's corner, carefully laying low below the light of the torches. Without her shawl, the raw, chilly air blew on her bare arms and legs. She was as easy to spot as ripe fruit, fit to pluck.

She tossed her ashen hair to the side before peeking her head. A spiral staircase led up, guarded by a man in a holy garment. He relaxed against the wall, his eyes flickering. His heavy body swayed in a dazed trance while carrying a glass bottle of rum. He gulped the liquor before tossing it to the pile of jars beside him.

Eva popped her knuckles as she took her head back. She rose from the floor, exhaling a sharp sigh.

Crap. What should I do?

Eva cleared her thoughts and marched to him with confidence. She welcomed the guard head-on, teasing him with a sly smile. She could almost vomit, looking at the priest's eyes spark to life the moment he saw her.

"W-who are you?" The man struggled to make his words. He stood with his twig legs, barely keeping his weight.

Eva kept her mouth shut as she rushed to her prey. Fast as a hawk—she closed their distances. The priest's eyes swelled in size as he seized a matchbox from his pocket.

What's he going to do?

The man's finger shook as he swiped the fuse against the side of the small box. A modest flame burned in the matchstick's tip as yellow as his eyes.

Crap. It's sorcery.

Eva stopped, and three bat-like summons flapped away from the flame with wings made of fire, tails of charcoal. They lunged themselves toward the maiden, pointing their scorpion-like needles forward.

She docked and rolled on the floor, dodging the fiery bats circling overhead. She snatched a bottle of whiskey from the heap and launched it at one of the creatures. The glass shattered in contact with the vermin, dousing one flaming bat in alcohol. The liquor made the creature's flame burst, and the fragmented glass pierced against the other two, killing them.

The man stood with an appalled face. "Impossible," he muttered.

He took another match and swiped it. A small flame burned once again, but it didn't erupt into the pesky beasts. Confused, the priest looked down, and Eva was grabbing his leg, blocking his Aither.

Before he could react, she twisted her body and pulled him off balance. The man crashed his head against the wall before slowly sinking to the floor.

Eva took a bottle of liquor and cracked it at his head—just for good measure. A crimson circle marked the wall, ebbing down to the ground. She took a deep breath, tossing the jar to the side.

"Three lives," she whispered.

She turned toward the spiral staircase, and to her shock, there was another priest. He watched everything unfold with his two hoary eyes. This one backed away, raising his arm against her.

"D-don't move!" he threatened.

Although looking like a frail elderly, he stood far away and completely sober. Eva couldn't beat him.

The man chanted a spell while snatching a metallic flask from his purse.

Out of reflex, Eva moved out of the way. However, the priest wasn't aiming at her—the spell was for his dying comrade. The sparkling water drizzled itself to the injured sorcerer like crystal rain showering on a green meadow.

His wounds began to close as the other priest continued with his spell. Not long after, he began to gain consciousness—well, all until Eva smacked him senseless with another bottle.

"You." Eva pointed at the priest, hiding below the staircase. "You're a healer, aren't you?"

The man nodded, his arms raised above to show surrender.

"I'll spare you if you do something for me," Eva said as she took another bottle and broke it against the wall. Holding it by the neck, she pointed the sharp edge against his throat.

"You know what happens if you don't cooperate," she whispered hoarsely.

"Let me go." His cowardly voice deepened. "When the bishop finds your sins, he will enact the highest form of punishment unto you. It's time to repent, royal bastard."

"Do I look like someone who fears death?" She strolled behind the priest, her hand clasped tightly around his neck. "Death is my suitor. He wouldn't stop following, so I grew to embrace him. You, do you want to embrace death?"

He slowly shook his head. "No."

Eva led him back to the hallways. She pushed him, step-by-step, keeping his sorcery nulled as they passed through the many rooms.

"What's behind those doors?"

"The hope of the church."

"And the hope you're referring are the children that you forced to train as sorcerers?"

"They are orphans whom we saved. We clothed them, sheltered them, and fed them. What they are going through is only a small price to pay for what they will become. Do you know the saying of the high church?"

She shrugged. "No, and I don't give a crap."

Despite her apparent lack of interest, the man continued his speech. "The divine's intention is always carried out. The supreme accord is never to be severed. The absolute plan —"

Eva stopped him, pressing the shattered bottle against his back. "Enough of that. Get your keys, slowly."

The man unlocked the cell with hesitance.

"After you," she said.

The priest wandered through the pitch-black, eventually finding the flickering torch at the corner. Faun stood in front of Calvin. Her fists clenched together, covering her face and still bound by the metallic cuffs.

"It's okay. It's just me," Eva reassured as she shut the door behind.

Faun's lips stretched into a smile, quickly dipping into a stoic expression. "You came back, and you have someone with you."

"A priest I kidnapped." She chuckled and shoved the man to the ground, relieving him of his Aither block.

"I believe you already know your purpose. Fix him."

The man gawked at the boy, laying as lifeless as a corpse. Calvin's body was paler than before, with his twitching finger as the only sign of life.

"What happened to him?" the priest asked as he drew the blanket.

"Your peers beat him up. That's what happened." Faun scoffed.

"How old is he?"

"Sixteen."

The priest shrugged. "If I save his life, you claim to spare mine. How can I be assured that you would keep your promise?"

"That's the thing, isn't it? You have no choice. I guess you better start praying—after you heal him, that is," Eva said.

He gulped. "Fine, but I will give no guarantees. All I could do is to at least prevent him from dying."

Faun timidly nodded. "I guess that's enough. Also, take these disgusting dampeners out of my hands." She extended both of her arms toward him.

He clasped on the metal wristbands and closed his eyes. Suddenly, the lock came loose and dropped on the floor. He also did the same for Calvin.

Faun gazed at her hand for a second before clenching it into a fist. "I couldn't feel my relics. They must've hidden it far away from here."

The priest sighed as he peeled his robes. He took out a container of water and poured it over the boy's open wounds. The agonizing pain woke him up.

Faun rushed to his side, stroking his hand as she tried to comfort him like a sister for his little brother. "It's fine. It's fine."

He took out a few more liquids and washed them over him. The mixture of water swayed with the motion of his hands, mimicking the push and pull of tides.

Not long after, the liquid began to glow, and Calvin's cries soothed. He fell into unconsciousness once again—a calming smile settled on his lips.

"How long until you finish?" Eva asked sternly.

"About a day until full recovery. But if you don't have that, about ten hours will suffice."

She glared, eyes as striking as a lion. "You are stalling until your friends arrive, aren't you?"

"That's the thing, isn't it? You have no choice but to wait for me. I guess you better start praying—before they arrive here, that is."

Eva's face turned scarlet. "Are you mocking me?" She placed the sharp edge of the bottle against his face. "I can tear you apart and leave the only parts necessary for his treatment. Don't make that mistake again."

He chuckled. "I'm old. I've already your kind—all bark, no bite."

Eva prepared to blow when the ground began shaking. An earthquake struck— no, it wasn't from the ground but from the foundation itself.

She looked at the priest with disdain.

"What? This isn't our doing." The man flinched.

Eva grabbed hold of her makeshift weapon, holding it against his hostage's back. Faun rose from the floor, commanding her shawl to float in the air. It whisked around the room, spattering blood all over.

"Continue what you're doing. I'll protect you both," said Faun.

All of a sudden, the door flew out of its frame. It crashed against the wall, giving it an enormous crack.

Crap. We're dead.