It's been a month and every part of my body aches and burns. When he said he could help me, I did not envision being beaten by the flat of his blade for every mistake. I do not know where he gained his combat knowledge, but it is far beyond what my father ever taught me. Today, we drill rhythm and strategy, though so far the only rhythm I've learned is the flat of the old mans blade stinging against my skin.
Slap! "Wrong. Do it again." Slap! "Wrong again." Slap! The last one stings like a viper bite.
"You hit me with that damn sword again, and I'm going to shove this poor excuse of a blade right up your-"
Slap! He catches me hard on the calf with the thinest part of the blade. My knee buckles and drives into the earth. The burn radiates up through my hamstrings. I grimace and growl as the sting lingers far longer than I should. I stand once it subsides and meet the old man's mocking gaze. He knows he can beat me, that my threat is an empty one. I furrow my brow and focus in on the metal ring that hangs in the air. Tethered by thin rope to a tree branch above it. I flow through the footwork feeling weightless, the movements more a dance than a duel. I lock on to the center of the ring and thrust my blade forward, missing by several inches. I wince in anticipation of the old mans blade. But nothing comes, I turn around hesitantly. The old man has lost interest in me for the moment, he leans against a tree watching birds flit through the air.
"Something more entertaining over there?" I ask. He turns back to me, a neutral expression on his face.
"How did that one go?"
"I missed."
"Ah." He pushes off the tree and walks closer. "Then I owe you one of these."
Slap!
---
The next several days are more of the same. Long days of physical training and technical work backed by a large volume of negative reinforcement. While his methods are rather painful and make my blood boil with each sting. They work, and I already feel a far more capable swordsman than before. The old man has mentioned something called Alta Memoria during our morning hunts for food. It's a ritual specific to the Rose Knight, he says it will allow me to speak with the previous Knights and learn how to activate and control my dormant abilities. I do not understand how he knows this. Or why if he is so determined to keep the Rose Knight alive. He waited for me to wander into his home. But when I ask he only answers with a question of his own. I don't trust this man, but I don't have any other choice.
The morning of the ritual, a thousand racing thoughts wake me. I make my way to a small mirror that hangs on the wall. The Rot has spread terrifyingly far. Thin inky lines spiral out from a scar on my side and weave their way in intricate patterns up and around my torso. Its nearly to my neck... how much time do I have left? My mind shifts from my own doom to Ivar and the others. So much has happened in so little time. My friends are captured and probably dead or worse and I've done nothing but swing a stick at targets... I can feel myself spiraling into guilt filled anxiety. Its heaviness suffocates my heart and sharp pain engulfs it with every shallow breath. I can't breathe. I need to clear my head. The Vita moon is dim in the sky, casting large looming shadows over the woods. The place is a wonder when the moon is at its peak, but a rather eerie nightmare at its lowest. I try to take a deep breath, it's shaky and labored but the morning air lightens the darkness gathering in my chest.
Finally I can breathe. I close my eyes and allow my thoughts to slow. The logical reality of the situation replaces the dread of the worst possible outcomes. Dying doesn't help them. This is the best place for me to be right now. The old man told me to meet him in a hidden cave deep within the woods when I woke. Gathering a few key ingredients on my way there. I set off through the woods, following the extremely vague map he gave me the night prior. After a few hours of struggle through the thick brush and stumbling around to find whatever the hell a sorgthog root is. I finally arrive at the cave. The entrance is a low tunnel emerging from a hillside.
I stare into the darkness, listening for any sign of the old man. Nothing, he did not tell me to bring any source of light. Only that "There can be no light without the dark." He must have something set up further down. Slowly I feel my way along the wall, crouching slightly to avoid the ceiling. The cold rock is rough against my finger tips, though I can barley feel the sensation through the new calluses I have earned. Shifting rocks echo with each step, the only other sound I can hear is my breath. The quiet here is eerie. No wildlife, no wind, nothing. Just a dreadful stillness.
The tunnel takes a turn, I make sure to feel the ceiling to prevent being surprised by stone to the forehead. I continue in the new direction for a moment and the stillness begins to fade. The old man must be close, but there is still no light. The sound is too faint for me to make out exactly what it is, the rustling of stones? The grunts of physical effort? As I get close I can hear the wet sounds of flesh being ripped apart and the smacking of lips as it's consumed. My breath begins to get heavier, the battle against fear begins. The sound is far to large to be human, something else is in here with me. I take care with each step to make as little noise as possible. The old hermit must be trying to scare me, brought a pet in from the woods to test me. The tunnel takes another turn and light finally appears. The flickering of a torch, reveals a haunting shadow at the far end. The shadow makes the creature seem enormous, large teeth protrude from its rat shaped head, it's massive body covering nearly the entire wall.
I lower myself to the ground and quietly make my way towards the shadow. I press my back against the wall and peer around the corner, though I wish I hadn't. A large pale creature gnaws at the bones of some creature. It's flesh so mutilated I cannot discern its species. The creature is not as large as its shadow though equally as fearsome. Its hide is devoid of any fur, leaving just thick leathery skin covered in boils. Many of which have burst and leak foul smelling liquid onto the creature. Its face and tail share similarities with the largest of rats, though its teeth are far larger and its eyes have been glazed over with a milky white lens. It paws at the carcass with large claws, tearing off large chunks of meat. I retreat back around the corner and press my head into the wall behind me. I take a deep shaky breath as quietly as possible. There's no way I can kill this thing, I need to get out of here.
I take one last look at the creature, making sure its attention is still on its meal. And I begin making my way back to the entrance of the cave. The unnerving sounds of the creature's feast seem to get closer every step further. My mind screams at me that its finished eating and noticed me. That I should run as fast I can out of here. But that will only get me killed. My foot catches on a stone embedded into the ground and I tumble loudly to the ground. The yelp forced out of me as I hit the ground echos through the cave. My heart beat races, my mind spirals into primal fear. I wait, listening. It's quiet... and then I feel hot breath on the back of my neck. Bloodied drool drips from the creatures mouth onto me. It's blind, but so am I. The light from the torch is far behind me. Slowly I reach for the hunting knife on my belt.
The creature lets out a low growl, the sound shakes my bones and a million thoughts of being eaten alive nearly overtake my consciousness. I refocus my thoughts on the knife, if I can get to it before the creature has finished its inspection. I might be able to make it out alive. My fingers find the hilt and I grip it tight, I have to move fast. I take a readying breath and flick the blade out of the sheath and up towards the creature's eye. I feel the blade graze flesh and hit the stone of the wall. I hear the creature shuffle back and let out a deafening scream. RUN! I lose the battle against my mind and rip myself to my feet. And run blindly down the tunnel. I can hear the creature's claws scrape against the stone as it hurls itself after me, its screams getting louder and louder. Forgetting that this tunnel is not straight I slam into a wall, I knock myself back onto the ground gasping for air. Adrenaline overtakes the urge to breath as I feel a clawed foot slam down at my head, just missing me. I slash in the direction with my knife, the blade find purchase and slices a gash in some part of the beast.
It screams and slams down with its claws, thrashing at where my head used to be. I find a wall with my hand and run in the opposite direction of the screaming creature. Finally I see light, almost there. The creature comes barreling towards me, enraged screams and the sound of rock being torn through and it uses its claws to propel itself at me. I dive for the entrance landing just outside the opening, I try to crawl frantically crawl away. Sharp, horrible pain shoots through my calf. I scream and look behind me, the creature has stopped at the entrance of the cave and extended its boil covered arm to pierce my flesh. Slowly it drags me towards it with a smoking arm, flashing its teeth and growling. I kick and yell at the beast trying to dislodge its claws. But nothing gives, it lunges at me with its jaws. But I'm able to wriggle just out of the way and sink my knife deep into one of its eyes. It rears back and lets me loose. Ignoring my mangled leg I jump to my feet and run, making it only a few feet before my leg can't handle the weight. I collapse to a knee, breathing heavy. The creatures screams echo through the woods, but the sound does not follow me. I turn to see the creature thrashing at the cave walls and screaming into the morning air.
"I see you two have already met." I look up to see the old man standing above me with a cocky smile on his face. I glare up at him.
"You mean to tell me that thing is your pet?"
"Guard dog more like. But yes."
"It nearly killed me!"
"Good, then it's doing its job!" He laughs and reaches into his bag and produces an ointment and bandages. Bending to one knee he inspects my lacerated calf. He begins applying ointment, the burn making me inhale sharply through my teeth. "Forgot that shorthog root eh?"
"No it's in my pack."
"You didn't give it to Watson?" I look at him confused.
"Watson?" I say, my voice dripping with ridicule. "You gave that thing a name?"
"Why wouldn't I? Got a heart softer than most people you know."
"It attacked me!"
"Are you sure about that? And how may I ask did he attack you?" I glance back towards the cave entrance. The creature has since taken to sitting in the entrance, quietly waiting for its master.
"I tripped and fell and before I could get up that thing was standing over me, smelling me."
"For?" I sigh at the realization.
"For the sorthog..." I glare at him. "But how the hell was I was supposed to know that?!"
"You weren't." He pats my injured leg and I wince but not in pain. He removes the badages revealing fully healed flesh.
"How did you-"
"Up you go lad, we've a lot to do!" He returns the medical supplies to his pack and approaches the cave with the sorthog root I gathered. "Here boy!" He yells and throws it to Watson. It lunges at the root and devours it in a bite. "That's a good boy." He examines the wound on Watson's eye, he removes the knife and pulls out the same ointment he used on my leg. Just moments after the application, Watson's eye heals to its original form. The creatures allows the old man to pat it on the head. "Whew! where have you been Watson? You smell terrible!"
I watch as the two disappear into the dark of the tunnel. This old man keeps a sorthog as a pet and can magically heal wounds. There's far too much that I don't know about him. For all I know he could be harvesting me just the Vrythe wanted to. I can't let my guard down, but I can't leave. Not yet. I push myself to my feet and make my way back through the tunnel. As I arrive at the small torchlit room, Watson has resumed his post at the dead carcass. A heavy wooden door banded in steel seals away whatever secrets the old man keeps. Slowly I make my way towards it, eyeing Watson cautiously. Watson looks up from his toy and sniffs the air. When he catches me scent he growls and snaps his teeth. The action makes me jump and rush to the door, swing it wide and slamming it shut behind me.
"Hello Soren." A woman's voice comes from the dark edge of the small chamber. My eyes flicker towards it, I know that voice. A slender figure cloaked in shimmering black roses emerges from the dark.
"I've been waiting for you."
