Hours passed as they awaited the passing of the light ahead.
Artemis stroked at the dwindling embers with the end of a pointed branch, their merciless abandonment returning them to the cold. And retrieving more might pose too much danger. After all, if that light was close, what might it do if they were to suddenly be caught in it while foraging?
The ruined hall beyond the courtyard that Artemis had arrived in was marked with a very-aged, bitter decadence. Something that was once regal was now completely decayed by time, fire, and madness. Tattered curtains and banners still hung from the ceiling, and the cracks in the walls allowed faint moonlight to stream in.
No matter how many hours were allowed to pass, the night seemed never-ending in Shadowhaunt. Monsters, beasts and creatures of terrifying nature seemed to croon in the endless darkness, and so they had taken to boarding up the two holes in the walls leading outside of the empty hall.
"How do you feel about beef?" He asked Ruffliette casually. "Chicken, pork? What about fish?"
"Beef? Why ask that now?" She let out a curt laugh. "What a silly question."
Artemis shrugged.
"You always speak of eating the things you forage. Have you ever found any animals here? What about before you came to the city?"
She shook her head. "I don't really remember anything before I cam to the city. But as for things I've hunted, I don't really encounter the typical sorts of animals you would think of here. I had a monkfish once..."
"HELP! HELP ME!"
The two suddenly heard an oddly familiar voice call out. Their gazes shifted towards the obstructive barrier at the far edge of the wall. This was where it had called out from.
What the hell was that? Am I imagining it, or was that a voice?
Ruffliette instinctively reached for her knife, handing it over to Artemis. He grimaced as he prepared to rise, signaling for Ruffliette to stay silent and still.
"LET ME IN! LET ME IN!" The voice screamed once more in terror. It carved into the depths of her voice, shaking wildly as slams echoed on the frame they had plastered against the hole in the wall, supported by a stacked pile of rubble. Indents were left in it, jutting inwards towards them. "IT'S HERE! I'M HURT! I'M BLEEDING! IT WANTS TO KILL ME!"
"TO KILL ME! IT WANTS TO EAT ME! ARTEMIS, PLEASE!"
Artemis grimaced. No, it really was real. I knew I couldn't imagine all the sorts of monsters that would reside here, but one that mimics voices? It knows my name… has it been observing us? For how long has it been hiding in the shadows, waiting to pull out its tricks?
I won't fall for it. Ruffliette won't fall for it.
"PLEASE SAVE ME!"
He willfully ignored the cries for help. He knew they were fake, but they shook him to his core, tore away whatever armour he had built for himself. After all, this was the voice of his companion that was screaming as if they were in pain, as if they were being killed. It was torturing, mind-numbing. His will could not falter here, she was fake. The real Ruffliette was sitting next to him.
But… some part of him twisted as he listened to the strange and guttural cries.
He looked out at Ruffliette through the corner of his eye. Her expression was anything but grim. It was placated, vacant, as if this event was not happening at all. That, or that the very sound of her own voice in agony wasn't disturbing her in the slightest.
Some part of him began to distrust the woman sitting beside him.
Ruffliette seemed to realise this. She clung to his arm, quivering as she too listened to her own voice call out for help. But she didn't speak, he had warned her not to.
The embers finally decided to die in that moment. What was once their only source of light now enshrouded them in darkness, casting them in the cold, damp fear that they held within them.
Clattering rang out around them. First, it was on the outer front wall of the hall, slowly skittering towards the roof. It left sharp pinholes in the stone as it walked, deftly piercing the thick layers of brick and mortar as it crawled along the edge of the hall.
"PLEASE! ARTEMIS, IT'S ME!- PLEEASE!"
He glanced instinctively towards Ruffliette beside him, even though he could not see her face.
In a hushed tone, he spoke out to her. "It's going to be alright. Whatever it is, I'll kill it. Whatever it is that dared to disturb us… it's going to regret it."
"We should really… prepare ourselves. Even I might have to… fight. But-" Her voice grew hushed. "-It's okay."
Gristly, ice-cold nails ran up the back of his neck, peeling away the fine hairs as her voice grew colder, darker, emptier.
He could hear light breathing… twice, echoed, shallow. He had already stopped breathing himself.
"I'm already inside."
His entire body froze. His heart pulsated as he felt the veiny grip of a creature wrap around the back of his neck.
Biting his lip, he cursed, the pain shocking him out of his stupor.
Artemis lurched forward as he brandished the knife, spinning around before stabbing at the darkness. It tore into flesh, crimson spilling onto the floor as he pushed it in deeper.
An exasperated, soft groan sounded out in the darkness.
And as the embers crackled, a single spark cascading through the air, barely illuminating the space around him, he saw the silhouette that spilled blood onto the ground below. It had raised its hand, blocking the knife's strike.
It was Ruffliette.
Not a monster.
He had stabbed her.
She grimaced, her expression accentuating her pain more than her voice did. As he had instructed her, she remained steadfast and quiet, letting out short, sharp breaths as she leaned into him. The corners of her eyes pinched together, trying to bear it in silence.
Her blood seeped onto his own hand, it felt as if he had ruined her in a moment of fear.
"I'm sorry!" Artemis cried out, trying to hush his sobs by covering his mouth with the blood-covered palm. "I'm so sorry! This thing, I thought you were that thing…"
She pulled him in close, whispering in his ear.
"It's okay, Artemis. It's alright. I'm here, I'm fine. Wounds can be bandaged…"
But then, the guilt killed itself. His heart felt cold, almost despairing.
Because for a moment, when he had harmed her, he had forgotten the dire situation he had been in, as if it had forcefully abandoned him.
"Why don't you refer to me as 'Maester'…?"
Thick-spined fingers sunk into his shoulder. Warmth and agony radiated throughout his upper torso as he let out an uncharacteristically shrill scream. Black liquid surged through the creature's fingers into his body, his veins shriveling and bursting with midnight-infused blood, causing dark stains to permeate the space underneath his skin. This occurred like a chain reaction through his body, the vessels in his face imploding as the black liquid spread across his cheeks like ink.
And as his body froze up, his eyes glassing over, he was sure that he had been killed.
The rhythmic patter of rain yet resounded. Was death to be peaceful? He was instantly reminded of his room, of the weather in the Capital, of his brother. It was... tranquil.
But he felt as if he wouldn't greet that tranquility for some time.
His eyes opened to take in the bright light of night, which burst through the cracks in the ceiling of the ruined hall. A yellow cloak had been draped over him, a dwindling fire beside him still bursting and crackling with embers that refused to die.
Sweat matted his forehead and torso, leaving him cold and disgusting under a mat of fabrics.
Ruffliette sat dutifully beside him, her head leaning against one of the walls of the hall as she dreamt of whatever a proud observer would dream of.
Hesitation overtook him. He felt as if he should crawl away as fast as he could, procuring any sort of weapon before wielding it against her.
But she was… really asleep…
His breaths fell hot and exasperated on the air as he reached out, grasping her right hand gently. She twitched as he touched her, not yet enough to rouse her from her sleep, and so he turned over her hand, glancing at her palm.
There was no visible wound. No blood stained her skin or clothes either.
Was that… all a dream?
Is this really Ruffliette?
He felt cold and afraid.
It was like he had been offered a glimpse, blatantly warned of what this otherworld would do to him if he let himself waver.
He had to survive.
And he could never let the red-haired woman leave his sight.
Or he would certainly lose her, and then lose himself.