The sun had barely begun to rise, casting a pale golden light through the small cottage windows. Elysara sat at the edge of the woman's bed, her eyes heavy from the long night, but she couldn't tear herself away. Her grandmother had insisted on rest, but there was too much at stake. The woman—now seemingly at peace—lay still, her shallow breaths the only sign of life. Elysara allowed herself a few moments of quiet before the overwhelming weight of the situation crept back in.
She finally stood, stretching stiffly, and made her way toward the main room, where the usual quiet of the morning was interrupted only by the soft clinking of pots and the hum of conversation. Villagers had begun trickling in with their minor ailments—coughs, aching joints, and the like—and Elysara went to work.
"Good morning, Valdez," she greeted one of the older men, who had come in for his regular herbal tincture for his back pain. "How's the leg today?"
Valdez groaned, lowering himself carefully onto the wooden bench. "Getting worse, if I'm honest. It's that time of year again—the damp air makes my joints ache like fire." He grinned at Elysara, though his eyes betrayed his discomfort.
Elysara smiled back, reaching for a jar of dried ginger root. "You know the drill. Take this twice a day, and it should help with the swelling. But be sure to keep warm—no long walks in the wet fields, okay?"
Valdez chuckled softly, accepting the herbs. "I'll make sure not to. I can barely manage to limp around the house these days."
She nodded, instructing him further on how to prepare the ginger and how often to use it. As she spoke, her mind remained partially on the woman lying unconscious in the next room, but she was doing her best to focus. It was important to keep the flow of things as normal as possible.
"And don't forget to drink plenty of water, Valdez" she said, handing him a small cloth pouch. "These herbs will work better if you stay hydrated."
He gave a mock salute. "Aye, Elysara. You're as wise as always." With that, he stood, stretching out his sore leg, and headed for the door.
Elysara let out a long breath, relief washing over her as another patient was seen to. But just as she was about to return to the kitchen to prepare a remedy for a young mother with a feverish child, she heard it.
The scream was sudden, loud, and filled with such raw, guttural terror that it froze her in place. Her heart skipped a beat.
The scream echoed from the back room, and Valdez spun around, his face pale.
"What in gods' names was that?" he asked, his hand gripping the doorframe as if he were afraid to move.
Elysara's stomach dropped. She knew immediately what it was, but she couldn't bring herself to say it aloud. Her legs carried her toward the door before she could stop herself.
"Stay here, Valdez. I'll see to it," she said in a hurried, shaky voice, her heart pounding in her chest. She barely registered his words of protest as she rushed into the back room.
Inside, the woman was no longer still. She was thrashing violently, her body wracked with tremors, her hands clutching the bed linens in a desperate, frantic grip. Her mouth was open in a silent scream, and her breath came in quick, ragged gasps.
Elysara rushed to her side, trying to hold her down, but the woman's body was as stiff as a board, her muscles locked in an unrelenting spasm.
"Grandmother!" Elysara shouted, her voice cracking. "Help! She's—she's not stable!"
Aureth was at her side in an instant, her calm demeanor betraying no sign of panic. Her eyes scanned the woman's trembling form, her lips murmuring ancient incantations under her breath. Her hands, pressed against the woman's forehead, where the fever had returned with a vengeance. The woman's body was slick with sweat, her skin pale and clammy as the spasm began to intensify.
"Stay with her, Elysara," Aureth instructed in a low, controlled tone. "I'll need to prepare a stronger potion. This is the magic fighting back. We have to stabilize her."
Elysara nodded, but her stomach twisted. The woman's condition was deteriorating far too quickly. Elysara stood by, her eyes flicking from her grandmother to the woman's writhing form.
She could feel the urgency pressing on her chest, each second feeling like an eternity. The woman's body twitched violently as if in response to the potions Aureth was administering, her lips trembling as she tried to speak, but only a hoarse, garbled sound escaped her.
The woman's lips parted slightly, a trickle of blood dribbling down her chin, and her breath grew more labored, each one more strained than the last. Then, in a horrible, gut-wrenching moment, the woman's body jerked, and she coughed violently, blood pouring from her mouth, splattering across the pillow. Her hands clawed weakly at her chest, as if trying to claw away at whatever was festering inside her.
"Grandmother!" Elysara cried out, her voice rising in panic.
Aureth was already there. She quickly moved to press a cloth to the woman's mouth, trying to stem the flow of blood, but there was nothing she could do. The woman's body was succumbing to whatever cursed magic had taken hold of her.
Elysara watched, helpless, as her grandmother worked tirelessly, her hands moving in a blur of motion as she mixed potions, whispered incantations, and pressed healing herbs against the woman's skin. But nothing seemed to help.
The woman's body was no longer just green, it was mottled with dark veins, like the poison was spreading like wildfire beneath her skin. With every minute that passed, her complexion worsened. The blood vessels in her eyes burst, leaving her pupils bloodshot and wild with pain.
Her fingers, once delicate, had stiffened and curled, the nails turning an ashen blue as if the life was being drained from her limbs.
Elysara tried to hold the woman's hand, but the skin felt cold, clammy, and increasingly distant. The pulse, which had been faint but steady at first, was now nearly imperceptible.
"Please," Elysara whispered, her voice cracking. "Please, don't leave us." But the woman's body gave no response.
At that moment, the woman's eyes fluttered open. They were wide with terror, unfocused and glassy, but there was a spark of recognition there. She gasped, her breath shallow, as if trying to speak, but the words didn't come. Instead, a violent coughing fit seized her body. Blood poured from her mouth in thick, dark clots, splattering across the bed and staining the sheets. Elysara recoiled, her stomach churning, but she held the woman's hand, trying to offer what little comfort she could.
"Grandmother!" Elysara cried out in panic.
"What is happening to her?"
Aureth's face was pale, working quickly to clear the blood from the woman's mouth. But her expression had shifted, hardening with an urgency that Elysara had never seen before. The woman's body jerked violently as another coughing fit wracked her frame, and this time, it wasn't just blood.
Thick, dark matter spilled from her throat, a vile, tar-like substance that seemed to burn the air itself.
"It's not just sickness," Aureth murmured, her voice tight with dread. "It's magic. Dark magic-something is poisoning her from the inside."
Elysara's breath caught in her throat. Dark magic. The words resonated in her mind, and she felt the deep, gnawing fear settle like a weight in her stomach. This wasn't some simple illness. Something malevolent was at play-something powerful and dangerous.
The woman's body spasmed again, her back arching as if the poison was attacking her from every direction. Her eyes rolled back in her head, her breathing turning ragged, each intake of air like a desperate gasp for life.
Elysara's hands were trembling so badly now she could barely hold on to the woman's cold, slippery hand. Her grandmother was muttering spells under her breath, but nothing seemed to stem the tide of corruption that was overtaking the woman's body. The woman's chest heaved with each labored breath, but her lungs were slowly filling with blood, it gurgled in her throat and made a sickening sound.
The woman's skin began to blister even more, the bumps growing larger with each passing second, filled with pus and blood. They stretched, grotesque and dark, until they ruptured, spilling more foul liquid across her body. Her body twisted, wracked with uncontrollable tremors, her mouth opening in a silent scream.
"Grandmother!" Elysara cried, her voice rising in panic. "Make it stop! Please, make it stop!"
Aureth's eyes were wide with a deep, sorrowful understanding. She had seen this before-the effect of ancient, cursed magic, the kind that didn't simply take life, but twisted and corrupted it, leaving behind only destruction. And there was nothing in her vast knowledge of potions or spells that could undo the damage.
"I'm sorry, Elysara," Aureth whispered, her voice heavy with grief. "We can't save her. The poison has already taken root too deeply. I-I never thought it would happen this quickly."
But the words didn't matter. They couldn't undo the horror unfolding in front of them.
The woman's body began to convulse again, her chest heaving with each cough. The blood that poured from her mouth now came in violent spurts, and her breathing became ragged, more desperate. Then, with one final, wrenching cough, she arched her back in a horrific spasm and let out a terrible, guttural scream. Blood flowed from every orifice-her eyes, ears, nose, and mouth-and she shuddered violently, the life slipping away from her like sand through an open palm.
And then, finally, with one last trembling breath, the woman went still.
Elysara's heart shattered. Her hands shook violently as she pressed them to the woman's cold skin, as if hoping that some miracle would happen, but the life had left her, leaving only the hollow shell of what had once been a person.
Aureth gently placed a hand on Elysara's shoulder, her own face pale with sorrow. "We couldn't stop it. We couldn't save her."
But even in that moment, as the death of the woman hung heavily in the air, Elysara couldn't shake the feeling that this wasn't the end. The land, the magic-it was changing. And it wasn't just the woman who had succumbed to this darkness.