The Outer Lord

Chapter 4 - The Fingers and An Oath

The Outer Lord

Chapter 4: The Fingers and an Oath

Millicent couldn't remember the last time her sleep was so peaceful. The Rot ensured that every moment she spent asleep was plagued by horror. Nightmares of landscapes inundated with Scarlet Rot, expanses that dwarfed the entire Caelid region both in scale and in the insane abominations it spawned while something at the edges of her mind taunted her with promises of. But it was as she awoke, she realised that she hadn't had any nightmares at all. She hadn't dreamt either. It was pure, restful sleep, deep and blissful.

The sky was brighter than it had been. It had been night when she'd fallen asleep, so if she was correct, then she'd slept through the entire night. That... almost never happened. Not a night went by when she wasn't awoken at least once by the incessant whispers of the Scarlet Rot. She moved to rub her eyes, but by habit attempted to use her dominant arm. She looked, seeing that it was gone. She remembered then that in her desperation, she'd cut it off. The blood, the pain, her screams. All of it returned as the realisation came. This was it, then. She'd have to make due without it. As she looked at the bloody sleeve feeling the fabric on her skin. Wait, skin? There should have been a wound there, not skin. There was no pain either. She chanced a feel of her shoulder and nearly jumped when her fingers gently pressed fabric onto fresh, sensitive skin.

Millicent sat up and Talos' hooded cloak slipped off of her, pooling on her lap. Said Tarnished was humming a tune as he rummaged around in a plain wooden box. However, what caught her attention was the pile next to him. Weapons, armour, plants and other things that she could only guess at. They didn't... they hadn't come from the box. Had they? He held one up to the light, a regal sword made of white iron. He looked at it for a while, sighed, then put it back gently as if it were fragile. As he went to take another weapon, he saw Millicent looking at him. She flushed in embarrassment at having been caught watching him.

''Good morning. Did you rest well?'' Talos said and she nodded. He lacked the cloak she'd seen him wearing beforehand, then she looked down at the one that had been over her. ''It gets cold here at night. It was the best I could do.''

''No, please, I appreciate it,'' she said quickly, ''I did not expect you to remain here.''

''I wouldn't leave unless I'd known you were well. That and your wound needed treatment. With an open wound like that, it was only a matter of time until a more mundane infection took root. Or you'd have bled to death. Whichever came first,'' he said with a shrug. He was, self-admittedly, quite backward when it came to medicine before going to Yharnam. He had never heard of things like germs before Iosefka had explained the concept. He knew wounds left open to the elements could get infected, as it was the death of many a soldier if he survived the battlefield. But she had a theory that unclean surfaces like dirty clothing carried and spread small, infectious lifeforms that attacked the human body through cuts and gashes. It mostly went over his head initially, but he had merely been ignorant, not stupid. With no better explanation and given to him by a professional in an age far in advance of any he'd been to before or since, he took her words to heart. Even if she were wrong, there was no point in risking it. So he kept his wounds clean when he could, and so far, no infections.

''But... there is no wound. How? What did you do?'' she asked in astonishment. She'd never heard of such a thing being possible. Of course, there were tales of people with that kind of power, but she thought they were just stories.

''A bit of sorcery, that is all,'' that was a lie. Explaining Miracles from unknown gods sounded like too much of a headache, so he chose a convenient lie. ''You didn't answer my question. Sleep well?''

''Oh, yes. I did. Normally, my nights are fitful. It's the Rot, you see. It is as much a blight on my mind as it is my body. Most nights I am fortunate if I only wake screaming once. But since being pierced with that needle, I slept... well, I have never had a better night's sleep. For once I feel that I can think properly, and I am not plagued with fatigue.''