Clinging to the air like a heavy fog, the musty odour lingered in the decently lit basement of our house.
The scent of dampness mingled all too well for comfort with metallic tang of old, dried up blood, making every breath a laborious effort against revulsion.
The yellow bulb attached to the chord overhead moved subtly, causing the long shadows to dance in a weird way all over the cracked walls. This house had housed many generations of Olvasens. Maybe from the time the first Olvasens set foot in Scandinavia.
But unlike the other parts of the house, this place was never renovated. Just the smell in this place can make your senses go numb. More so for someone ordinary like me.
Turning my body to the right side, I avoided the rusty chain hanging right in the middle of the pathway that led to my destination. I focused hard to keep the nauseous feeling in check. It was not my first time here. And perhaps would not be my last. But there are some things that you just cannot help yourself with.
Getting gripped by qualms here is one of those feelings.
I can quite understand why Arthur hates this place.
Despite being the only place we can call home.
As I finally arrived at my destination and was about to open the door, I paused. Someone was already inside.
"It would be wise to not subject yourself to any further harm, darling~" A smooth voice slithered. It made a shiver run down my spine. And despite the cold, biting edge to her voice, the words themselves seemed to be lathered in honey. "You don't want that guy to back in again, right~?"
I felt the words stab into my heart. She surely could have referred me in any other way.
Shaking my head to get rid of these thoughts, I exhaled deeply, despite how repulsive the mere act of breathing was in this place.
You are used to this. Don't let something like this sway you!
I reminded myself. I cleared my throat, loud enough for the ones inside to hear me. The clipping sound of the heel against the stone floor stopped as I did. After exactly 5 seconds—a customary requirement—I knocked exactly three times and then took a step back from it.
After a few hurried steps, the door flung open. Looking down, I caught sight of my mother. She was as beautiful as ever. Short and petite, yet her expressions, the way she held herself, her gaze—everything screamed absolute, ironclad authority. Her grey eyes fixed on me, only for a fleeting moment before turning around.
I waited for her until she reached the middle of the room and then followed right after. The door was quite big. While I wasn't the tallest person there was, I was definitely tall enough. And the door was around 7-8 inches taller than me.
The thought that all of our ancestors were around this height baffles me.
Moving on from the useless topic, the entire room was made out of thick stones of varying sizes. A huge table lined the other side of the room, extending from one corner to another, full of equipment. However, the most noticeable things in the room, without a sliver of a doubt, were the two chains sprawling downwards and the Elven girl captured in it.
Multiple trails of blood came down from her wrist area that were tightly put in place like cuffs. The cuffs had two long but extremely sleek needles entering from one side of her wrists and protruding from the other. While usually such methods are used with a material that doesn't inflict pain or infection, such considerations were "not needed" in our current situation.
Despite the fact that she was in such a miserable condition, I couldn't help but be mesmerised. Her long jade coloured hair was sprawled all over face and shoulders, and the blotches of blood all over hair and porcelain skin did little to dim her otherworldly beauty.
Literally otherworldly. Hehe. Anyways.
Her neck was hung low and from beneath the heavy curtain of her hair, the tips of her pointed ears were poking out.
My mother looked at me and then flicked her head in her direction. Taking in a deep breath, I walked over to her and then lifted her head. The chains rattled in tandem with her flailing hands as she tried to lung forward and bite my nose off.
Simply taking a step back, I avoided it and her teeth chomped on the pungent air. Her hateful jade eyes were almost shining as she glared at me.
As she tried to step towards me, she winced and her body sagged down. Looking down, I saw the same Arcanum disruptors stabbed into feet that were stabbed into her wrists.
Suddenly she started to convulse and an ear splitting shriek made me take another step away from her. She was shaking her hands, as if trying to reach for her head and clutch it. "Hrrmppphhhhhhh…" She clenched her jaw and bit away the scream, as if not wanting us to hear her.
Before I knew it, my mother was standing by my side. She placed both her hands on her face and forced her to look at her. "So beautifully defiant~" She cooed, her finger tracing around the edges of the elf's face. "I love it when they struggle for life~ It's kind of exciting~!" She exclaimed. However, her nail dug into the elf's blood-caked skin, the smile still persistent. "And revolting. Filthy monkeys trying to deny the obvious superiors." The previous heart warming tone transformed into something totally different. Pure evil. And as soon as she had taken her mask off and revealed her real self, she wore that mask again. "So darling~ Please tell us how you got here~? There is no Frontier in this city so it's impossible for you to come here."
The girl looked back up at mom. I stood by her side, even though the Arcanum restrictors stabbed throughout her body were blocking the flow of it.
I was no better than mom, but at least I could still use my Arcanum for basic body augmentations. If anything really went south, I was ready to lay down my life for her. She was my mother after all. Even if it didn't mean much to her.
*phtui*
I felt as if time had slowed down. The Elven girl had spat on mom.
Needless to say she had avoided due to her having access to Arcanum herself, while the elven girl was no better than a slightly above average human. However, the act of defiance despite being in such a state was absolutely baffling to me.
Panic surged within me as I looked towards my mom, trying to sense anything. However, her face was impassive. Not smiling, not disgusted. Just complete and utter silence.
"Stitch her lips." Mom pursed her lips and commanded with a calm demeanour.
My hands trembled. Torturing people for the Olvasens was my role. However, most of them were spies by other Syndicates. This elf… this girl… she was more than likely unaware of how she ended up here. I had done this work long enough to know when a prisoner was lying or not. While the elven girl kept her facade of secrecy, she had nothing to unveil.
She was just as clueless as we are about their appearance without a Frontier.
And while she can't use any Arcane Art due to blockage of flow of Arcanum in her other body parts, she can still use the Main Node in her heart to augment, or rather, form a wall around her brain. Stabbing her heart and brain would result in instant death.
"Your thoughts are making it worse, Eric, I said…" she paused and turned towards me, "...stitch her lips."
The hair on my nape rose up. Nodding my head, I walked over to the table and started taking out the necessary equipment.
"You're wrong. Dead wrong. Even if death itself came knocking at my door, I'd sooner spit in its face than betray my homeland or my people." She seethed and then smirked. "Apollo himself could descend from Olympus, and I'd look him straight in the eye and tell him the same damn thing. My loyalty is unbreakable and my silence permanent. So go ahead, unleash your hell upon me."
Mother took a step towards her. "Nothing is permanent." She spoke and then wiped her hand with a white cloth. "All of you in Eden… you disgust me. Such flawed creatures living amongst a superior race as humans—the idea itself is revolting."
"Living together?" She coughed, blood trailing down her nose. "Act arrogant for as long as you can. You have no idea what's coming for you."
Mom straightened her back and then the same charming smile reappeared on her face. "On the contrary…" she rolled the words in her mouth for a few fleeting, blissful seconds before speaking, "...you have no idea what I am going to unleash on your kin."
With those words she walked over to the door. "Stitch it up." She ordered without glancing back before shutting the door behind her with enough force to make the sound of it closing echo everywhere.
I sighed, letting out a long breath. Picking up the huge needle, I threaded the surgical suture through the eye before giving it a small knot. Another heavy, pungent breath escaped my lips. As I walked over to her, she looked into my eyes for the first time.
Two bright jade eyes. That had lost all their colour. There was no hope. No intel she could give. The last thing she vowed to do was to pose as someone with information. Except she didn't have any.
Grabbing her by the chin, I applied a little force, making her lips pout. "You should stop posing." I spoke, my words breathless. "I know you have nothing to tell them."
She gnashed her teeth. "Don't take pity on me, mudwalker!"
An unrestrained chuckle escaped me. "Well, I am a mud-walker. Don't you walk on mud as well?" I asked, genuinely curious and let go of her for a while.
"You filthy mud crawler." She was seething. But her whole body was trembling. If I were to release her chains, she would more than likely just crawl into a corner and hug herself. There was an innocent vulnerability to her voice and words.
"Well we do love getting dirty." I replied. The tremble in her body was still there. I took a lock of her hair and felt it between my fingers. Their hair felt like it was made out of something else. Totally different from ours.
"Don't touch me, HUMAN!"
"My bad." I immediately let go of it. "Why are you doing this?" I asked. I was curious. She could escape this torture. Sure her Arcanum would still be sealed away, but she wouldn't be subject to regular attempts by mother trying to tear her mind to bits and pieces and other psychological torture.
"Because you filth deserve it."
"I half-agree."
She blinked a few times, not sure what to respond with.
"Humans are full of crap, yes. But it's impossible that every single one of you are saints, right?" I tried to reason. "You, or rather your ancestors, committed a holocaust against us. Just because we could reproduce quickly." I took a step forward. "In what world is that fair? Can you justify it?"
She looked me in the eye. Without a sliver of doubt, she replied. "It's unjustifiable."
"See? So you do agre—"
"You deserved it."
I looked at her with disbelief. "Are you serious? You just contradicted yourself!"
"Humans did everything wrong. They got what was coming for them!" She squeaked, her voice cracking as she spoke.
Letting out a weary sigh, I felt my brows raise up a fraction of an inch. Moving to the table, my fingers curled around the flask—its texture and weight a comforting familiarity in my grip—that had some water to wash hands and carried it over to her.
Though the flask was far from sterile, the alternative of bringing her water from upstairs would certainly result in me ending up trapped in an endless limbo of simulations created by my mom for a lifetime. And nope, I am not willing to undergo that for the sake of being good for a while.
I am not that righteous.
"K-Keep that away from me."