Eska stirs awake, her eyes fluttering open to dim surroundings.
The room is small and suffocating, three cold stone walls enclosing her while metal bars form the fourth. The air feels damp and chilly, the silence oppressive.
A narrow opening above her bed reveals only darkness beyond.
She pushes herself up, her body aching and looks around.
No sounds, no movement—just the unsettling stillness. Tentatively, she approaches the bars, gripping them and peering into the void beyond. It feels like an endless abyss, as if her cell is the only thing that exists.
"Hello?" she calls out softly, her voice barely carrying past the bars.
"Hello," a familiar voice replies from behind her.
Eska's heart skips as she spins around, her breath caught in her chest. The cell had been empty, yet now, a woman stands in the far corner shrouded in darkness.
The figure matches Eska's height, around 4 '10, her long braid flows down her back with a faint green glow emanating from its strands. Her piercing green eyes glimmer faintly but the rest of her form is frustratingly hard to make out, blurring whenever Eska tries to focus.
"W-Who are you? Where are we?" Eska stammers, her voice trembling with unease.
"You know me, Eska," the woman says, with a familiar voice. "We've known each other for years now. Though I may look a bit... different."
She extends her arms as if to present herself. "I am Marina."
Eska's eyes widen in shock. "How?" she manages to ask, her voice barely above a whisper.
"The 'how' doesn't matter right now," Marina replies firmly. "What matters is that we'll be traveling together from now on. It was the only way to keep you from dying."
Eska looks down at herself, her hands trembling.
Her right arm burned, the wounds on her stomach sting and when she touches her cheek, her fingers find the jagged gashes. Yet when she checks her hand, there's no blood.
"Keep me from dying?" she repeats.
"You just remembered, didn't you?" Marina presses with a sharp tone.
"What you endured, what you risked—for strangers. People you'd never meet otherwise. I told you there'd be a test. All vessels face one eventually."
Eska looks up at her, her thoughts swirling in confusion and fear. "I don't understand."
"You're confused, conflicted, maybe even afraid," Marina says, her voice softening. "But soon it will all make sense. I'll be here to guide you."
She places a hand on her chest. "I am the current vessel. I know what you're going through and I know what's ahead."
Marina steps forward suddenly, closing the distance between them. She takes Eska's trembling hands in hers. "A test of strength. Of character. A trial by fire and blood."
Eska feels her eyelids grow heavy. She tries to speak but no words come out. Her legs buckle beneath her and she collapses, falling into a deep slumber.
When her eyes open, she gasps and sits up abruptly.
The room around her is different—brighter, more modern. The stone walls have been replaced by smooth surfaces, the bars gone, now replaced by a door.
Light streams in through a window above her, illuminating the entire space. A fan spins lazily on the ceiling, sending a cool breeze down, a mechanism she's never seen before.
Through the transparent panel at the top of the door, she can hear footsteps and faint voices outside.
Eska glances around, spotting a nightstand beside her bed. On it sits a cup and a pitcher, both filled with water. She shifts slightly, trying to move but a sharp pain shoots through her body, forcing her back down.
"Don't push yourself. It's only been a day since the incident—your wounds could still reopen."
Marina's voice echoes in her head, familiar yet unsettling.
"What?!" Eska exclaims, startled.
"Shhh, keep your voice down. I can hear your thoughts, so you don't need to speak aloud," Marina warns. "You don't want anyone thinking you've lost your mind, talking to yourself."
"How are you inside my head?!" Eska asks, panic tinging her thoughts.
"My body was too broken to heal you. This was the only way to keep you alive," Marina explains with a sigh. "But it's permanent."
"Permanent?!" Eska's eyes widen as she processes the word. "What do you mean, permanent?"
Marina's tone turns rushed. "I can't explain everything right now—it involves soul interweaving and paradigms that you're not ready for."
Eska stammers, "I… I don't remember you having a book about this."
"Of course not. Anyone who uses this magic either doesn't document it or doesn't stay in Osalde long enough to care," Marina replies casually. "Like Timias."
Eska groans, holding her head in distress. "I thought Timias just used rituals to—"
"Eska, calm down." Marina interrupts. "I'll explain when you're more versed in magic. Remember, I told you one day I'd teach you true magic."
"True-" Eska pauses, as it dawns on her. "True magic!?" Eska's panic shifts to eager excitement. "You mean now?"
"Yes, but not yet. First, we have bigger issues to handle." Marina's voice grows more serious. "The church knows what you are."
Fear overtakes Eska's excitement, her breath catching in her chest. Oblea's warnings about the church flood her mind.
"For now, we wait and see what they'll do. Gods can be… unpredictable," Marina says. After a brief pause, she adds grimly, "If it comes to the worst, I'll think of something."
A knock suddenly echoes from the door. Marina's voice vanishes as she whispers, "Remember, I'm not here."
The door creaks open, revealing Ciel, flanked by two knights in gleaming armor.
"Eska! You're awake!" Ciel exclaims with a warm smile. Eska begins to smile back but freezes as her eyes trail to Ciel's robes—robes of a devoted servant of the church.
Her faint smile twists into a look of fear.
"D-don't worry, Eska. I don't mean any harm. I'm just here to take care of your wounds," Ciel says softly as she approaches, pulling a chair to the side of the bed.
"Would you… let me take a look?" she asks, her warm smile never wavering.
Eska hesitates but gives a small nod.
Ciel carefully picks up her right arm, revealing bandages coated in a cream-like substance.
Eska frowns slightly, suddenly aware of the coolness against her skin and the dull ache radiating through her body.
She hadn't noticed the bandages before, but now the pain begins to set in, sharp and insistent.
Ciel gently unwraps part of the bandage, exposing burned and scarred skin beneath. "We got there too late," Ciel says with a hint of regret. "Unfortunately, this won't heal completely."
She rewraps the arm before moving to Eska's face, peeling back the adhesive bandage on her cheek.
Underneath are three stitched lines running from her jaw to just below her eye.
"We were worried about infections when we brought you back," Ciel continues, examining the stitches. "But you seemed surprisingly healthy. Wendigo wounds usually lead to severe infections from the filth and rot they carry, but not you. You must have a pretty strong body!"
She chuckles lightly, trying to brighten the mood.
"Why are you doing all this if you're just going to kill me?" Eska asks, with slight bitterness in her voice.
Ciel leans back slightly, her expression softening into one of sorrow. "We don't know that yet, Eska," she says firmly. "Not all of us want you dead. The Speaker wants to talk to you, once you heal."
She leans forward, gently clasping Eska's hand in hers.
One of the men at the door chimes in, his tone steady and firm.
"We follow the laws of the gods because they keep us alive, girl. Whether we like those laws or not doesn't change the choice we have to make."
Ciel nods slightly and looks back at Eska. "We'll help you while we can, at least until the Speaker decides. It's all we can do right now."
Eska's expression doesn't shift. She just looks at her burned arm.
Ciel offers her a faint smile. "May I check the rest of your injuries?" she asks, trying to change the subject.
Eska nods and slowly lifts her shirt.
Ciel gasps softly at the bruises and cuts covering Eska's torso but carefully examines her wounds. Minutes pass in quiet focus before Ciel finishes.
"You're healing fast, but you need to stay still. Don't strain yourself, especially your leg. Keep those stitches in place. Honestly, I would say I can't believe you didn't bleed out, but..."
She pauses, her lips curling into a small, knowing smile. "We both know why that is."
A few seconds of awkward silence go by before Ciel has to break through it. Her expression shifts, growing serious.
"Eska... your mom is here too. She's safe, but she's being held in a different place."
Eska's eyes widen, her heart skipping a beat. "What did you just say?" she asks, her voice sharp with urgency.
"Your mom, Oblea," Ciel replies softly. "She's being held in another building. She's safe, but I thought you should know."
Eska doesn't respond. Tears well up in her eyes, spilling down her cheeks as she stares at nothing.
Ciel gently places her hand over Eska's, her touch warm but brief. Eska remains unresponsive. After a few moments, Ciel straightens in her chair, then stands. She walks to the door and turns back to Eska. "I need to report that you're awake and recovering. The Speaker wants to see you after you've recovered. He's the one who will decide what happens next."
Eska nods faintly, unable to muster any words. The knights follow Ciel out of the room, closing the door behind them.
A familiar voice echoes gently in her mind. "That woman speaks the truth, Eska. Your mother is alive and unharmed," Marina says, trying to reassure her.
Eska shifts uncomfortably, trying to ease the pain as she turns her head on the pillow. "I did this..." she whispers in her thoughts. "I put her in danger."
"No," Marina interjects firmly. "She is not in danger because of you, but because of those who would harm her—and you."
Eska's brow furrows. "What?" she asks, her voice weak even in her mind.
Marina's tone grows sharper, tinged with anger.
"The church—their gods marked you a heretic at birth. They are the ones responsible for this. They're the ones who would hurt you or your mother for crimes you've never committed."
Before Marina can continue, Eska's exhaustion overtakes her. Her heavy eyelids close and she drifts into sleep, the weight of Marina's words lingering in her mind.