Shards of Sin (solo)

[Kalestiya]

- IV - Indignity

Kalestiya curled tighter beneath the heavy blankets, her breaths shallow and ragged, each one a battle against the sharp, gnawing pain in her abdomen. The room, once a haven of warmth, felt stifling, the air thick with an unspoken dread that pressed against her chest. Her fingers clutched the pillow, damp with sweat, as she willed the pain to subside, but it lingered like a cruel specter, pulsing in time with her heartbeat. The memory of her nightmare - the black, slimy substance, the shadowy figure - clawed at the edges of her mind, blurring the line between dream and reality. She whimpered softly, her voice lost in the suffocating silence of the inn.

Downstairs, Seran pushed through the inn’s heavy door, the small vial of reddish-pink potion clutched tightly in his hand. The clerk’s parting words echoed in his mind, her grip on his hand unnervingly firm, her gaze too knowing. "Interesting… very interesting indeed". He shook off the unease, his focus fixed on Kalestiya. The streets bustled with the fading energy of the afternoon, but he barely noticed, his boots striking the cobblestones with purpose as he hurried up the stairs to her room.

He knocked gently, his voice soft but urgent. “Kalestiya? It’s me.” When no answer came, a knot of worry tightened in his chest. He eased the door open, the creak of the hinges loud in the stillness. The sight of her - curled on the bed, trembling beneath the blankets, her face pale and drawn - sent a pang through him. “Kalestiya,” he said, crossing the room in two strides and kneeling beside her. “I got something for you.”

Kalestiya’s eyes fluttered open, glassy with pain but softening at the sight of him. “Seran…” she murmured, her voice frail, barely above a whisper. She tried to sit up, but a wince betrayed her, and she sank back against the pillow. “You didn’t have to…”

“I wanted to,” he interrupted gently, holding up the vial. The liquid shimmered faintly in the dim light, catching her gaze. “The apothecary said this should help with the pain, and maybe the nightmares too.” He hesitated, searching her face. “She… asked a lot of questions. Said she’d want to see you if this doesn’t work.”

Kalestiya’s brow furrowed, a flicker of unease crossing her features. She reached for the vial, her herbalist’s instincts overriding her discomfort as she studied it. The scent, faint through the glass, carried notes of chamomile and valerian, and... something else; something sharp and unfamiliar lurked beneath. “What did you tell her?” she asked, her voice steadier now, and laced with caution.

Seran rubbed the back of his neck. “Just that you’ve been in pain, not sleeping well… having night terrors.” He paused, his eyes narrowing. “She seemed… too interested, if have to be honest. It did give me a strange feeling.”

Kalestiya’s grip on the vial tightened, her mind racing. The pain in her stomach flared again, and she bit her lip to stifle a gasp. It’s not real, she told herself, but the words felt hollow. She uncorked the vial, the sharp scent stinging her nose, and hesitated. “Thank you, Seran,” she said, forcing a small smile. “I’ll try it.”

But as she raised the vial to her lips, a chill of doubt seized her. The unfamiliar edge in the potion’s scent, the clerk’s unsettling interest, it stirred a deep unease. She lowered the vial, her hand trembling, and set it on the bedside table. “Actually… I think I’ll manage without it,” she murmured, avoiding Seran’s gaze. “I just need to rest.”

Seran’s brow furrowed, concern deepening the lines of his face. “Kalestiya, you’re in pain. You can’t keep doing this to yourself.” A grunt of frustration escaping his lips as he said the words. “Let me help you.”

She shook her head, her jaw tight with resolve. “I’ve handled worse,” she said, though the lie tasted bitter. “It’ll pass. Please, Seran, I just need to be alone.”

He studied her for a long moment, his eyes searching for truths she wouldn’t share. Finally, he sighed, rising to his feet. “Alright,” he said, his tone heavy with reluctance. “But I’m right downstairs if you need me. No arguments.” He lingered at the door, casting a final worried glance before stepping out, the soft click of the latch echoing in the quiet room.

Kalestiya sank deeper into the bed, the blankets a meager shield against the cold that seeped into her bones. She closed her eyes, desperate for the oblivion of sleep, but pain clawed at her abdomen, sharp and relentless, as if the wound from her nightmare had torn open anew. Each breath was a struggle, her chest tight with the weight of an unseen presence. The room seemed to pulse with malice, the shadows in the corners stretching and writhing, their edges jagged like broken glass.

Her mind churned with fragments of the nightmare - the black ooze, alive and suffocating, the shadowy figure watching her die. It’s not real, she whispered, but the words dissolved into a gasp as a fresh stab of pain twisted through her, forcing her to curl tighter, her nails digging into her palms. The air grew heavy, thick with the acrid stench of decay, and a faint whisper slithered through the silence, Kalestiya… curling around her name like a serpent’s coil.

She squeezed her eyes shut, her heart hammering, but the whisper grew louder, joined by a low, guttural hum that seemed to rise from the floorboards. Her stomach churned, a sickening heat spreading from the pain’s epicenter, as if something inside her stirred, alive and hungry. She bit back a whimper, her body trembling as she fought to stay conscious, to cling to the fragile thread of reality.

Sleep eluded her. The pain surged, a tidal wave that drowned her senses, and the shadows pulsed closer, their forms coalescing into a vague, humanoid shape in the corner. Not real... she gasped, but her voice broke, and the figure’s eyes - gleaming, merciless - met hers, pinning her in place as the room dissolved into darkness.