Strength of Fate - 15. Chapter Fifteen

Stepping through the portal proved to be an unsettling experience for Nathan. Crossing the threshold brought on a rising buzz, but not one heard aurally, instead somehow deep within his head. The ground, composed of a delicate stony structure, crunched under their boots—not unlike stepping on tiny insect carapaces. Breathing was unpleasant. The air was stale, tasting of bitter metal. His exhaled breath plumed visibly, akin to being the middle of winter. While the air was cool on his face, it wasn’t cold enough for that to happen. His eyes burned, as though they were covered with a thin layer of grit. Blinking helped, but didn’t alleviate it completely.

After taking a few steps, Nathan adjusted his bow and the strap to his quiver, then turned back to the portal. Rabiah remained kneeling on the floor of the university’s basement, her palm resting on the glassy stone, but something about her movements seemed unnatural. With her free hand, she urged him to continue, but the action was so short and abrupt, he would’ve missed it with a blink of the eye. Her mouth moved—again, rapidly—yet he heard nothing.

Unnerved by the disturbing sight, Nathan turned back to survey their surroundings. Standing on this side of the portal revealed much more. Giant rocky formations, similar to the platform they stood upon, floated above and below them. Brohm, a few steps ahead of him, glanced back.

“This place is weird.” His voice sounded equally too close yet far away.

“I don’t like it, either. Let’s get this done,” Nathan said.

The ground squelched and popped under their feet as they trekked down the only path available to them. Soon, the orange fog made it difficult to discern the portal at their back. Nathan noted with mild reassurance their bootprints left a clear mark, so it was unlikely they’d lose their way. The platform widened and diverged into a more natural rock-like formation. As they continued, a precipice emerged from the bright fog. In any other case, the fog should’ve been shadowed by the sheer cliff, but here, it was as though the fog itself was the light source. The only way ahead was to turn left and follow the cliff face.

A small glint on the wall stood out against the dark rock.

“What’s that?” Nathan asked, pointing.

They approached to find an ebony crystalline patch, reminiscent of a tiny head of cabbage.

“That’s gotta be it, yuh?” Brohm said.

They knelt down to inspect it. Thin crystals sprouted from a central clump. Brohm pulled the tools free from the leather bag and, using the chisel, tapped one of the stems experimentally. It broke off with little effort, as though made of glass. Nathan picked up the delicate hex-sided rod, turning it in his fingers, and then placed it in the bag.

“Gonna try breaking it off in one piece,” Brohm said. “Hold your hands out to catch it.”

Nathan did so, and Brohm placed the chisel at the root of the clump and tapped the hammer a few times. The cluster popped off the wall and fell into Nathan’s waiting hands. Not one crystal stem broke off.

“That was easier than expected,” Nathan said with a chuckle, placing it in the bag. “But it’s tiny. We’re going to need a lot more.”

Brohm stood, wiping the crumbling rock from his trousers. “Let’s find ’em and get outta here.”

They followed the cliff face to their right, managing to locate three more clusters. Each were excised adeptly, but as they were settled into the leather bag, they snapped.

“It’s a good thing Rabiah doesn’t need these intact,” Nathan said with a smirk. “That’d be—”

Brohm’s startled face—his eyes wide—silenced Nathan. Turning hesitantly to follow Brohm’s gaze, back the way they’d come, Nathan caught sight of a slender tentacle rising from the rocky surface. It bobbed up and down a few times before sinking underground. They held their breath a moment, waiting for it to return, but nothing happened.

“What the fuck was that?” Nathan whispered.

Brohm shook his head and carefully pulled his sword free from its scabbard, the chisel and hammer awkwardly held offhand. “I wanna go home.”

Nathan weighed the bag in his hand. “We need more,” he said. “Just keep going.”

Brohm did so, but both cringed at the crunch of his boots. They held still, scrutinizing the terrain. Gritting his teeth, Brohm continued to lead with reluctant and careful steps. Nathan followed close behind, feeling woefully ill-equipped with his bow and dagger. They stuck close to the cliff’s edge, and soon came upon another glittering bundle. Nathan watched their surroundings, blindly holding his hands out to catch the crystals while Brohm worked the tools. As soon as it fell into his hands, he slipped it into the bag and stood up. They both surveyed the area for danger, but no tentacle appeared.

“Rabiah said there might be creatures, but they weren’t hostile,” Nathan whispered in an attempt to quell the fear within himself. It was ineffective.

“Just our luck, these’ll be different,” Brohm mumbled as he turned to continue along the wall.

Nathan swatted Brohm’s backside. “Gods, don’t say that.”

Ahead, the cliff face to their right extended overhead like a canopy. The pathway narrowed and tilted to the left toward the orange void below. They stopped at the head of this new development, unsure of their safety to proceed. All it would take was one bad slip to fall off the edge. In the distance, more crystal bundles taunted them to risk it.

Nathan signalled he’d take the lead. The pitted ground was tenuous at best, and with each step, he planted a boot and tested his weight to make sure he wouldn’t slip. Brohm—forced to sheath his sword to keep a hand free—followed by example. Their progress, while slow, was consistent.

They reached the first bundle. As before, Nathan kept watch while Brohm tapped it free from the wall. Ten steps farther, they found a number of them concentrated together, and Brohm made short work of each.

“Reckon that’s enough?” Brohm asked.

Nathan shrugged, then pointed farther along the narrow and treacherous path. “There’s a few more. Better to have too much than not enough.”

The face Brohm wore spoke volumes. They both knew they were pushing their luck, but with a shake of his head, Brohm’s expression changed to one of firm determination, and gestured for him to lead. Nathan did so, holding a hand to the wall for support.

For their trouble, they discovered another cluster of crystal bundles. Brohm tapped one free while Nathan kept an eye on their retreat back to the portal. Brohm stood up to reach the next one, but instead of hammering, he held still. Nathan, crouched on his haunches, glanced up in confusion. Brohm’s eyes, wide as saucers, stared beyond.

“Don’t move,” he whispered. “There’s one right behind you.”

Despite the cold, a bead of sweat formed on Nathan’s brow. Unable to heed Brohm’s warning, he reluctantly turned his head to find a tentacle an arm’s length away, rising from the ground. It undulated, then leaned toward Nathan’s back, gently prodding him. Nathan shut his eyes and held his breath. The soft scrape of Brohm’s sword being pulled from its scabbard announced his intentions.

“Don’t move,” he repeated in a quiet yet firm manner.

The prodding stopped at Nathan’s back, and he risked looking again. The tentacle had pulled away, but its wavering movement became agitated. Tiny tendrils sprouted from its length, extending out in a similarly jittering fashion. It converged upon Nathan again, and that was enough for Brohm to act. With a swipe of his sword, he chopped through the tentacle, and it fell limp. Immediately, more tentacles sprouted from the ground behind him.

“Run!” Brohm bellowed, treading as quickly as he dared back the way they came.

Nathan scrambled at Brohm’s heels. Each step on the porous stone proved to be uneven and perilous. Glancing back revealed an untold number of tentacles, and the sight of them caused him to lose his footing, slipping toward the orange abyss. Digging his fingers into the stone, as painful as it was, helped regain control, but the sudden movement triggered a burst of stinging pain in his arm. It shot up past his shoulder and into his chest. Grimacing through the agony, he clambered back to the relative safety of the wall. Brohm managed to reach the canopy’s edge unscathed, and turned to find Nathan farther behind than expected.

“Run!” he cried. “They’re nearly on you!”

Nathan didn’t need any more encouragement. With adrenaline pumping through his veins, time slowed down, making each step steady and sure. Once within reach of Brohm, the big man turned and ran, sword still in hand.

With the way ahead flat and wide, Nathan determined nothing could stop them now. The grit in his eyes stung—his view watery. The metallic air in his lungs burned. It tasted like blood. He didn’t care. All that mattered was to escape this terrible place.

A tentacle erupted ahead of him, its tendrils popping free. Not losing any speed, he deftly evaded it, yet it managed to reach out and snatch him off his feet. He fell prone, and the tendrils extended out to cocoon him tightly. Feeling like a spider’s prey, he cried out.

Brohm glanced back and skidded to a stop, causing a shower of stone bits to fly into the air. Using a hand on the ground to gain purchase, he turned and sprinted back.

Additional tentacles sprouted around Nathan, encircling his legs and arms. Another slipped inside the leg of his trousers, clamping around his calf. The burning sensation was immediate, as though it were melting his skin, and he shrieked in agony.

A series of sword swings cut the tentacles down, and the tight cocoon fell limp. With the leather bag still held tight in one hand, Nathan reached out with the other to grab Brohm’s hand. The big man hunched over, allowing Nathan to put an arm over his shoulder and limp alongside as quickly as he could.

The damage Brohm had dealt hindered the advance of the tentacles, but neither of them were willing to slow down. Nathan risked walking on his wounded leg. Despite the sting, it was faster than leaning against Brohm.

With sword still in hand, the big man urged Nathan into the lead, allowing him to set the pace. “I’m not leaving you behind again,” he hollered.

The portal came into view out of the orange fog, giving Nathan the drive to push through the pain and break out into a sprint. Rabiah was still on her knees, her hand on the stone, watching them approach with anticipation. Brohm yelped in surprise as more tentacles nipped at his heels. He swung his sword ineffectually, falling out of range by the time the tip reached its apex.

The exit came at them abruptly, and Nathan’s foot caught on the uneven ground, tripping at the last moment. Brohm slammed into him from behind, propelling them through the portal and onto Rabiah on the other side. Her hand broke the link with the glassy stone, and the portal blinked out of existence—its chalk outline on the wall charred and smoking.

Both of them gasped for breath. The stale air of the dusty cellar tasted sweet compared to what they’d been breathing. A groan emerged from beneath them. Brohm, atop Nathan and Rabiah, struggled to shift himself off the pile.

“Are you okay?” Nathan asked Rabiah as he slipped aside.

She sat up, rubbing the back of her head. “If you boys wanted a threesome, you just needed to ask,” she said with a pained smirk.

Brohm let out a chuckle, rolling onto his back and dropping his sword with a clatter. Nathan, giddy after such a fright, joined in. He held up the leather bag—still in a death grip—like a trophy.

“This better be enough for you. We’re not doing that again.”

Rabiah took it and peeked inside, pursing her lips as she appraised the contents. Finally, she gave them a single nod.

“I believe this will do.”

Brohm let out a hoot of joy. “Thanks the gods!”

Nathan laughed again, then winced at the pain from his calf. He pulled up the leg of his trousers to assess the damage.

“You okay?” Brohm asked.

Harsh red burns tracked up his leg where the tentacle had grabbed him. Nathan didn’t dare touch it, as even the material of his trousers caused enough pain. Rabiah lifted one of the candles and inspected the wound.

“How did you manage that?” she asked as though reprimanding a child.

“Giant black worms attacked us,” Brohm said.

She turned to him in awe, Nathan’s wound forgotten. “Giant worms? Fascinating. I’ve not read of any account of such creatures before.”

“Well, they’re not friendly,” he replied, then pointed at Nathan’s leg. “We need a healer.”

“Very well,” she said, rising up and dusting herself off. “Can you walk? There’s a small hospital near the university.”

With Brohm’s help, Nathan managed to stand.

“But it’s the middle of the night,” Brohm said. “Will there be someone there?”

Rabiah scoffed. “You’ve been gone much longer than you think. I imagine the sun’s been up for hours now.”

Nathan blinked in confusion. “What?”

“I told you. Time passes differently beyond the portal.”

According to his perception, only an hour has passed. He couldn’t fathom such a discrepancy.

“Come now,” Rabiah said, leading them out of the dark cellar through the maze of corridors.

◆ ◆ ◆

As Rabiah predicted, it was midmorning. With Brohm’s help, Nathan reached the university’s exit with a limp, causing a number of heads to turn. Instead of walking along the gravel lane toward the street, Rabiah led them across the grassy park to shorten the journey, and they soon reached a large, well-kept building.

“There’s a few hospitals in the city,” she said as they approached, “but this one is superior. They’ll take good care of you.”

She turned to leave.

“Wait,” Nathan said, “where are you going?”

She gave him a queer look. “I’m not your mother. You don’t need me, and I’ve work to do now that you’ve supplied me with those crystals. Come see me in two days time, and we’ll discuss what needs to be done next.” Without waiting for a reply, she hurried back toward the university.

Nathan stumbled into the waiting area, which was nearly vacant. The admission process was swift, and soon they were ushered into an examination room. Despite being small, it felt spacious due to a large window that let in a generous amount of sunlight. The glass was heavily mottled, acting as a diffuser and providing privacy from passersby on the street.

An older man entered, wearing a white linen smock. He sat down opposite them and presented a warm smile.

“Hello, Nathan. My name is Doctor Cadius. What can I do for you today?”

“It’s my leg,” Nathan said. “It’s been, uh, burned.” He realized trying to explain the actual cause would result in too many questions.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” He glanced at Brohm. “What’s your relation to Nathan?”

“My relation?” Brohm stumbled on his words, unsure how to reply.

“Are you family?” the doctor clarified.

“No? I’m just—”

“I’ll have to ask you to wait outside, please.”

Brohm appeared conflicted. “But, I just . . .”

Cadius smiled again, bringing kindness to his eyes. “I appreciate you’re worried about him. Rest assured, he’s in good hands.”

Nathan patted Brohm’s hand. “I’ll be fine, big guy.”

“Oh, okay.” Brohm’s cheeks turned rosy, and he shuffled out of the small room.

“May I see the burn?” Cadius asked.

Nathan lifted his trouser leg for him to examine the full extent of the damage. The doctor’s eyes widened, then glanced up.

“This isn’t any type of burn I’ve seen before.” Cadius pulled a loupe from a pocket to inspect it closer. “How did this happen?”

Nathan uttered a nervous laugh. “It’s a long story. I’m with the Adventurer’s Guild. We tend to get into trouble.”

The doctor uttered a grunt in affirmation, understanding Nathan wasn’t about to reveal any pertinent details.

“Let’s try an ointment to start,” Cadius said, rising from his seat. “I’ll be back in a moment.”

He left Nathan, closing the door behind him.

Cloistered in the private room, Nathan reflected on what he and Brohm had managed to accomplish, and how close he’d been to failing. The scene of him slipping toward the orange abyss replayed in his mind, only this time, he hadn’t managed to stop himself. He fell off the precipice. Stone fragments, disturbed by his flailing, showered over him as he reached out for the edge beyond his grasp. How long would the fall last? Was it endless, or would another rock structure emerge from the fog below and break his fall? He’d either die, or suffer a slow and painful death. He shuddered at the idea of being lost in a place where no one could ever find him.

A knock at the door broke his reverie, and Cadius entered. “Alright. Let’s see if this will help,” he said, showing a stoppered brown glass bottle in his hand.

Using a patch of cotton cloth, the doctor gingerly applied the ointment to Nathan’s leg. At first, it rekindled the sting, but then felt cool, numbing the pain. Nathan nodded for Cadius to continue his treatment, and the doctor proceeded with gentle efficiency, wrapping his leg in gauze once he was finished.

The stoppered bottle—still nearly full of ointment—as well as a few rolls of gauze were placed in a small bag. Cadias handed it to him.

“Apply it once per day until it’s used up. If any trouble arises, please come back.” The doctor scribbled on a sheet of paper, signed it, and handed it to Nathan. “You can pay at the admission desk.”

“Um, before you go,” Nathan muttered, “I have another problem, and I’d like your opinion.”

Cadius’ manner shifted back to one of seriousness. “Of course.”

Rolling up his sleeve, Nathan revealed the angry bite marks on his arm. Black veins under his skin radiated out, looking worse than Nathan recalled.

“Goodness.” Cadius’ tone was dire. “This wound is strange. It’s scar tissue, yet it still looks infected.”

“It’s an old bite from last winter by something called a gobling—”

“You’ve been bitten by a gobling?” Cadius asked.

“You’re . . . familiar with them?”

“Indeed. There are medical journals, articles that speak of a scourge from the west. Is that where you were attacked?”

Nathan nodded anxiously. “I know people died from swarms of those creatures, but some survived. The problem is their bite.”

“Yes, it’s quite complicated. However, treatment is possible.”

“What? So, I’m not . . . gonna die?” Nathan thought he might cry, risking the acceptance of hope building within his core.

Cadius’ eyes lit up with kindness again. “Oh, my goodness. No, I’m sorry you thought that.”

Nathan laughed in relief. “It’s just because of the pain that came back, I just assumed—”

The doctor’s sullen face stopped him cold. “The pain returned? Does it feel like a sharp, stabbing pain?”

Nathan tried to swallow, but his mouth was suddenly dry. He nodded sombrely in reply.

Cadius sighed. “I’m so sorry, Nathan. I just assumed, given the amount of time that had passed, that you were just suffering from lingering symptoms. But if the original pain has returned, the reports in the journal say that no one survives. They’ve tried a number of treatments, but”—he shook his head—“I’m sorry. There’s nothing we can do.”

Covering his face with a hand, Nathan let out a long sigh of despair before speaking again. “So what’ll happen? How does this end for me?”

The doctor’s face took on a grave expression, finding it difficult to keep eye contact with Nathan.

“I need to know,” Nathan pleaded. “I need the truth.”

Cadius nodded. “Right now, you’re experiencing the second-to-last stage of the toxin’s effects. The pain you experience will take a sudden and drastic turn for the worse. Soon after, you will lose motor function, including the ability to breathe. That will be the ultimate cause of death: asphyxiation.”

Nathan had no reason to disbelieve Theodrik when it told him the same information, but now having a second person confirm the grim fact he was going to die in such a manner was devastatingly frightening.

“How long do I have? Months? A year?”

The doctor shook his head. “Weeks. Possibly a month at the most.”

Nathan gaped at him, shaking and twisting his arm. “But sometimes I can’t even feel the pain. How could I possibly have less than a month to live?”

“I understand your confusion, but as I said, the toxin works strangely. One day, you’re fine. The next, the pain is excruciating.”

Nathan sat mute, staring into space as he contemplated his life. He wasn’t ready to meet its end.

“Take all the time you need,” Cadius said softly. “Again, I’m so sorry.” He rose from his seat and sombrely left the room, closing the door behind him.

Nathan stood, turning toward the sunlight, and leaned against the blurry window. Dollops of dark and light shifted before him—the forms of people walking by, riding horses, some hauling carts. Each person had their own story—their own joys and woes—but they were ultimately bound to their own fate. He was no different. He just wished he had the freedom to choose another path.

◆ ◆ ◆

The heat and humidity was as oppressive as ever, and without a breeze, the reek of the city was evolving from unpleasant to overwhelming. Thanks to the numbing action of the ointment, Nathan was able to walk on his own, albeit gingerly. That didn’t stop Brohm from hovering nearby, ready to catch him if he stumbled.

The weight of despair upon Nathan lightened for the moment, and he smiled inwardly at his luck to have Brohm by his side. Knowing their time together was coming to an end, however, renewed the anguish within him. He considered telling Brohm what the doctor had revealed, but to what end? Once again, Nathan found himself torn between the truth and their happiness. The knowledge that he would abandon Brohm broke his heart. Why sully their short time left together? Nathan cared so deeply for him that the mere thought of hurting him stayed his tongue.

He contemplated had their roles been reversed, would he be angry at Brohm for not revealing such a terrible truth? It was a pointless question. Without a doubt, he would’ve felt betrayed to not be told, but that didn’t change his mind. Even though it was the wrong choice for Nathan to make, he decided Brohm’s happiness overruled common sense. He blindly reached out and took the big man’s hand. It was sweaty from the heat, but Nathan didn’t care.

Brohm frowned with concern. “You okay?”

Nathan looked up at the man he loved and smiled, blinking away a tear. It mixed with the sweat beading on his face, and he doubted Brohm noticed.

“With you? Always.”

Brohm gave his crooked smile, and they walked hand in hand back to the Amberley.

Their suite remained a refuge from the heat, and Nathan spent the day convalescing in bed with Brohm. They napped, often waking to cuddle and fall back asleep again. Nathan remained cognizant of every moment in Brohm’s arms, never wanting to take it for granted.

As the evening wore on, imposing clouds gathered, and distant thunder rumbled. Both of them were awake at this point, but felt too lazy to consider moving. They just stared at the folds of the red fabric lining the four poster bed and listened to the storm roll in.

The sky darkened. Gusts of wind rattled the doors to the balcony. Fat raindrops spat onto the panes—a few at first, but soon the torrential storm came into force. Lightning flashed, followed by a deafening crack. It was enough for both of them to get up and watch the show.

Through the water-blurred window, they observed passersby scrambling for cover. Brohm chuckled and unlatched the door, and before Nathan could object, he opened it. Rain flew sideways into the room. The big man, wearing only his breeches, stepped onto the balcony, soaking himself immediately. The thin, wet fabric hugged his legs, revealing the bulge of his manhood.

“You comin’ out?” Brohm yelled over the din.

Aside from the gauze around his leg, Nathan stood naked before him, and he gestured the obvious fact with a laugh.

“No one’s looking. Come on!” Brohm said, beckoning with a hand.

Nathan tentatively stepped forward, shielding his eyes from the rain, and glanced below to determine if anyone was still on the street. A few stragglers remained, but no one was paying them any mind. Brohm’s wet hand grabbed his shoulder and urged him beyond the threshold. Savage, cool winds blew rain in all directions. Nathan shivered and stood against the big man’s warm body. Reaching up to cup Brohm’s face with both hands, Nathan kissed him deeply.

It was short-lived. Rain sprayed against their faces, causing them to flinch and grimace. Brohm pulled him back into the room with a laugh and latched the door shut. After so many hours of dozing, followed by the cold rain, Nathan found himself completely rejuvenated. He also realized he was ravenous.

“Let’s get something to eat,” he said.

Brohm gave a toothy grin. “You read my mind.”