TO DAZZLING DARKNESS, scraps

02 | Human-Clad Monster (2)

Author's note:
Warnings for gore. Tangentially connected to the previous one, as most of these are.

---

02.1 | The pain does not die with you

"Are you despairing?" Duma whispered, hoping to force the knight out of his catatonic state. He wanted a reaction from Fernand- anger, non-compliance, anything to de-confirm his fears. Silence filled the room again. "You are avoiding him, are you? Is that why you will not respond?" For a brief moment, Fernand seemed to break from his trance, twitching at the presence of the Mad God. "You are still alive, at least. Talk to me."

"N-no..." Fernand choked out, struggling to breathe between sobs. "I want to forget. Th-there's no point in-"

"Do not overexert yourself, Fernand," Duma said gently. He forced himself to feel compassion for his vessel, an act he never considered himself. "Forgetting the past will not heal the scars created by them." He nudged Fernand softly, and a soothing light filled the room. "You must work through it, lest your scars reopen."

Fernand shifted uncomfortably in the chair. "You mean to reconcile?" He glanced over at Python, who seemed to ignore him. "I can't. Not with him."

"You can not? Or you do not want to?"

With a sigh, Fernand attempted to move in order to attract Python's attention. Slowly he found himself sliding off the chair, the feeling of smooth velvet on his skin like a blade skinning him alive. He finally stood up, but collapsed back into the chair just as fast as he could stand.

"Careful. Your legs... they may not be fully healed." Duma said under his breath as he watched Fernand struggle. "But do not give up. Your resolve is stronger than you think."

"Do not patronize me." Once again he forced himself off of the chair, an agonizing burning feeling shooting through his legs. As much as it hurt to do so, Fernand felt that it was easier than before. Now all he had to do was move. He dragged himself across the floor, cursing himself for being so weak. It disgusted him, knowing he had been dead for years only to return to something he didn't deserve. When he made it to the other side of the room, he only had enough strength to tap Python on the shoulder in hopes that he would respond.

"You need something?" Python asked bluntly, watching him struggle to stay up.

"Unfortunately, yes. I know we may not be on the best of terms, but-"

"Go on. Ask him." Duma's voice crept through the silence, and Fernand tensed up, staggering backward. He reached out to grab on to Python, to no avail.

"Fernand?" Python winced at the sound of broken bone and averted his eyes. "...Please tell me you don't need my help."

With a scowl, Fernand attempted to pick himself off of the floor. "Get a healer."

"But-"

"Just do it!" He felt at his side, sucking air through his teeth as bone and blood spilled underneath him. "I don't know how long I have until-"

"Okay, fine, I'll try to find one!" Python sighed, reluctantly standing up and walking over to Fernand before gripping his remaining arm and guiding him back to his seat. "Can't just leave you there. I'd never hear the end of it." He raised Fernand's shirt, studying how the bone poked out of the skin before looking away. "Damn... that looks bad."

"Tell me something I don't know."

"You should be dead." Python backed away, ignoring the knight's judgemental gaze. "I know that sounds rude, but think about it. Nobody would have survived that. So how the hell did you do it?"

"I advise against answering his question."

For once, Fernand decided to heed Duma's warning. "I wouldn't know." He put a hand back to the injured side of his body, resting on the oddly soft and pulpy remains of the skin. "Now find a healer."

"Oh, right. Got it." With a nod, Python left the room, cringing at the sound of the injury. "Uh, try not to die until I come back, okay?"

---

"Why is your body so fragile?"

Fernand stirred awake, hissing as the pain coursed through the left side of his body. "What?"

"At this rate, you will die from the most minor of wounds." Duma nestled against Fernand's injury, and the knight leaned into the invisible force. "You are weak even with my power. I can only imagine how long you would last alone."

"Just heal me already..." Fernand slurred out as he tried not to tear at any more of the mess of blood and bones at his side. "Stop wasting my time..."

The god sighed, then focused the little healing magic he had into Fernand's body. "Will this be enough to keep you stable until he returns?"

Fernand shivered as his wounds began to quickly seal themselves, forming large masses of purple and red that stained his pale skin. The grafts were warm to the touch but thin and fragile. "How long will this hold up?"

"For as long as you do not tamper with it. That is all I ask."