Chapter 33: Closer

"We can't linger."​

Pulling up her hood, there isn't sight or sound of the rogue as she vanishes into shadow.

Celegwen still hasn't moved from the ball she's curled up into.

Ray's growling has completely subsided, leaving you in darkness and utter silence.

You try to urge your body to cooperate to no avail. The spasm in your arm has been unrelenting, and your legs aren't faring much better. You can't tell if it's permanent damage, or if you're simply still recovering from the extremes you pushed your emaciated frame to. With a pat on Ray's side, you gesture as best as you're able towards Celegwen. "Ray, move. Let's go, boy." He immediately scoots himself to better get under your arms, and to help drag you adjacent to your friend. You try to not feel utterly humiliated. "Bet you're happy I've lost some weight, huh? At least you don't give me a hard time about it. Come on. Good boy."

As soon as you get near enough to her to stop gesturing, Ray settles next to you to better support your weight. He licks repeatedly at your robes, while you debate how to proceed.

"Celegwen?"

She snaps her head towards you violently. She's scared out of her wits. The elf's hair is on end, eyes wide, face pale. You nearly jump out of your skin at the sight.

In a low growl, Ray inches between you and the terrified woman. Both of you stare at each other for a long moment before she distantly speaks.

"We never should have let Ofelia go after her. That demon, she—" The sorceress brings her arm around herself, and shudders. "I could not discern what it was, but I strongly suspect that her or her master possesses that which we seek. Nothing— nothing I can fathom could bring about this transformation. Nothing in this world that could change a demon in such a way. This is no Magic." She looks with extreme fear towards the path of gold leading out of the cavern. The corners of her lips perk up as she looks back to you. To all of your gear spread out around the camp. To Ray. To the constant stress knitting your brows together.

The elf gives you a pained smile. Just as you think she's starting to crack, she sighs, "I do wish Ofelia had brought more of that liquor."

You can't quite laugh in response. It's difficult to even acknowledge Celegwen's joke. You awkwardly manage, "that would have been nice."

There's a soft sigh as she rises to her feet, takes another deep breath, and seems to regain her composure. The sorceress looks down to you with concern written all over her face. "What are we going to do about you, Father?"

"I just— I just need to rest."

It's impossible to meet her gaze any longer. You glance away to look at all of Ofelia's things scattered around the camp. "I'm sure she'll be back soon. I trust that she can look after herself, but after— but after everything I've promised, I can't push myself any further. Do you still have any of the supplies we gathered?"

Leaning against her staff for support, she walks over to Ofelia's things, and thoroughly investigates the rogue's backpack. "A fair bit. It would be acceptable, even if we had not." Celegwen's voice is lighter than air. "I have been meaning to tell you something."

You can't help but dart your eyes up as the elf comes closer to you. She kneels down, leans in, and smiles. "I have recalled the art of conjuration. It came to me suddenly..."

Her eyes flit up to yours in gratitude, but there's something else there. The heat in your face comes back in full force.

"...while I was thinking of you."

Music

Celegwen was hardly thinking of anything indecent at the time. She was fixed on wanting to protect you.

You're at a loss for words as she leans in a bit closer. Instinctively, you try to inch back— and are only met with a twitch along the knotted scars in your back in reply.

Sensing how anxious you are, Ray puts in the extra effort to keep you upright.

You can't find it in you to say anything to him, either.

The elf's immaculate skin and hair practically sparkles as she leans closer in. You can see every last fleck of purple and black in her metallic eyes.

Glancing away— heart pounding— Celegwen seizes your attention. A hand is gently placed to your chin, and turns your face towards hers. There's no air in your lungs. Her voice is methodical as always, but it's clear that she's been thinking about this for some time. Almost the last of the distance closes between you, as she comes dangerously close, and keeps leaning in—

"I wanted to thank you."

Your mind is more torn than the ravaged muscle and nerves that pull back before Celegwen can reach you. Tensing, you put both hands up as best as you can. "Wait."

She looks at you unoffended, clearly curious as to what you have to say.

You don't inch back any further. There's a dozen excuses and contradictions brewing in your mind. Words tumble from your lips as you scramble to articulate your most pressing concern. "Before— look. Are you alright with— with the feelings I hold for Mercy? Knowing everything She has done for me— knowing She does not take a toll on me in the way that any other God does? Knowing that I— knowing that I am closer to Her than any other?"

A blend of amusement and disappointment blends together in a way you aren't particularly pleased with. The elf replies, "feelings you hold for Mercy? Is that what you call it?"

She places a hand on your shoulder. You stammer, move away from her touch, and do everything you can to explain your position. "My reasons are v-valid—" You practically knock Ray backwards as you keep pulling away. "I love Her. I could n-never conceive of— of sharing myself with anyone but Her—"

The thought of Ofelia's warm breath on your skin has you swallow hard. Her freckles. The skip in her step. Her accent, and the way that she's always looked after you.

Mercy, I'm not lying. I just can't get my head on straight.

There's no protest as you shrug away Celegwen's shoulder. She respectfully and silently waits as you avert your eyes, and pray that she can understand.

"This is Her city, in the end. We are on the path to Her Relic. And I have been through enough that—"

Your words catch in your throat as a slender arm slips behind you. A chill runs up your spine, thanks to the motions of dainty fingers around countless scars. Her gaze is distant. Despite how she's acting, Celegwen looks to be deep in thought.

"Perhaps, a—" You can't help but nervously rattle off more excuses. "—aaahnn, ah—" Your tortured skin is practically on fire from the slightest touch. "—a reprieve is warranted? Perhaps this is a small enough Mercy for me that I— that I wouldn't be remiss..." It's nearly impossible to speak, but you're compelled to rattle off more explanations through gasps. "...to ah— accept your thanks...?"

The distance you fought to create is effortlessly closed between you. Fingers intertwine in your tangled hair, pulling you closer.

You can hardly breathe through the heat across your face, all your apprehension, and the way you're begging her to do something. "Perhaps She would see fit... to even bless this—"

You're cut off.

Celegwen places her lips gently on your forehead. She's softer than you could have imagined.

A ghost of the foreign sensation remains as she barely draws away. A pained apology spills over the remnants of her kiss. "I'm sorry. Father, I understand completely."

Despite her words, she keeps you close. Fingers trail along the knots in your back and hair. "I would never ask for you to forsake your Goddess for me." The wind is hardly taken out of your sails. You part your lips to protest, but she interrupts you again. "I have walked this earth for over 300 years. I fear that each and every day in this nightmare will be my last. I am hoping to make each one of these days count. I made you a promise, Father. I could not forgive myself if I jeopardized your mission, or our safety. But I would be lying to you if I did not confess—"

She places her head gently against yours.

There's no air in your lungs. You close your eyes, leaning into the softness of her skin, and her hands pulling slightly against your robes and hair. She whispers, "I have never felt more alive than when I have seen you. The way you contain the very Gods—! The way you disregard your safety so utterly— it scares me— but I do not wish for you to die down here. Alone. Taking more pleasure in pain..."

Her hands tense as if she could strike you. Turmoil and hesitation is all over her.

"...than in the touch of a woman."

She clearly wants to do more, yet wrenches herself away.

Speech escapes you.

She escapes you. Celegwen's fingers untangle themselves from your robes and hair. She places her hands in her lap— edging back— and giving you an agonized smile. "I hope that— one day— you can find a way to live with someone of this world, too."

Your heart is breaking into a million pieces. "Celegwen—"

"Please do not worry yourself." That awful smile. "I do want to thank you, Father. It was presumptuous of me to not think of something more fitting."

You frantically try to think of something— anything— you could say to make this right.

Your words leave you as the sorceress takes hold of her staff. It's easy enough to recognize that she's not going to be consoled. You clutch onto yourself through her incantation, practically cursing as she conjured a phantasm of starlight and darkness. Heat fades from your face and body as she casts a spell. Despite how upset you are, it's difficult to look away. Pinpricks of stars and space shrink in on themselves in an ever-smaller form. Celegwen spins the band of light together, and swirls it into a ring made of stunning yellow-gold.

Your heart skips. A promise ring rests in the palm of her hand. The sorceress leans slightly against her staff, worn out from the effort— but she speaks gently. Sincerely. Hurt drips from every syllable as she offers the item to you. "I did say I wanted to thank you. Take this. You don't have to wear it now... but think of me when you do."

You'd never forgive yourself if you didn't accept her gift, but your hands are shaking too violently. Even holding your arm aloft isn't possible without extreme difficulty.

Both of your hands are grasped around Celegwen's. She carefully sets the gold onto your palm. There's a series of small, pointed gems on the interior of the band. It's far from sharp— you'd have to apply a great deal of force to hurt yourself with it— but you're too embarrassed to speak.

A long moment passes between the two of you.

Celegwen takes her hands off of yours, and looks to you with all-too-familiar worry. "You should rest. There is no telling when Ofelia will be back— but knowing her, it will not be very long."

You hate yourself for having to ask, but you murmur, "please, wake me as soon as she's back. We can't linger here."

She bites her lip, nods, and stands back up.

You manage to raise your voice before she can turn away. "Celegwen." You clutch as tightly as you can onto the ring in your hands. The green in your eyes pierces into her expectant stare. "I didn't mean— I want you to know—"

Quickly kneeling down, she takes your hands once more, unfurls them, and slips the ring onto your index finger. You're so thin that it hangs slightly against the base. You wince— but Celegwen offers you a more genuine smile.

Her hold on your hands tightens. Gemstones bite against your skin. It's all you can do to repress the sounds you sorely want to bring forth— until Celegwen places her lips against the gold. She looks up to you with a smile as she does so.

All pretense of reason and explanations vanishes. Heat and pain lances the pleasure she pulls out of your hands. You forget the spasm in your frame, and the presence of anyone or anything else for a blessed moment.

Your hands are placed lightly on your lap before she moves to leave.

The flush across your features deepens. There's only one thing you can think to say. "Thank you."

"You have already done more for me than I could ever hope to ask for, Father. There's no need to thank me." Shade conceals Celegwen as she walks to the end of the cavern. Her voice trails behind the last of her disappearing figure. "Please get some rest." She completely fades from sight.

"I'll keep watch."

Exhaustion crushes into you as you tense, and remember that Ray is right beside you. He tries his best to offer you someone to hold.

In the absence of both women you've worked so hard to protect, you slump back to the floor. Even if you wanted to, you're physically incapable of running after them.

The constant spasm in your limbs is a harsh reminder of the way you've abused your body. Staring at the ceiling, you try to get more comfortable. It's hard not to clutch at the band around your finger— almost hoping that Celegwen hears the hitching of your breath— before you fall back asleep.

"...one day."