Chapter 26: Ch26 Magic Drain
The instant snapped back to the peaceful, still lake.
The lake was calm, moon-swollen silver. The surface of the lake copied the night sky so precisely that one could not tell where the stars started and the water ended. It was a moment of pure beauty for one brief instant.
Then the air tore apart.
Wind rolled into a whirlpool, shrieking to existence at the lake’s center. Grass flattened, flowers torn from their stalks, water foamed and lashed upon its own shores. The wild vortex tore at the world, then exploded wide with a shattering of freed power.
Three bodies spilled out.
Luther fell to one knee, shuddering hands against the grass. His chest burned with each strained breath. Behind him, Liliana and Aithur drifted gently to the ground, their oblivious bodies entwined in dissolving shells of water. The glow lasted for a moment, then faded away, scattering into mist. Their wounds were removed—the healing had taken.
Luther was different.
"Haah...hah...dammit..." He doubled over, coughing hard. The metal taste in his mouth was hot, before blood splattered across his hand. It dripped down his wrist, black drops falling into the ground. His eyes went hazy, moonlight streaming in stripes.
He tried to stand up. His arms betrayed him.
The ground struck him hard.
Every muscle howled mutiny, every nerve seared. His body convulsed, uncontrollable, gasps shallow and jagged. He willed his gaze to the side—Liliana’s white hair, Aithur’s still form—and then the world slammed shut, collapsing into darkness.
---
Silence.
It was all he was used to at first. A heavy, crushing emptiness. Then, slowly, sounds began to seep into it.
A murmur, barely audible, indistinguishable. Then louder. Crisper.
".reckless."
".injured like this."
".do you have any idea.".
The voice was irrefutable—rage clung on the barest thread.
Luther’s eyelids danced. He wrenched them open, compelling his sight from the bottomless darkness. It was vague, the world lurking in patches of shadow and light.
He was aware, distantly, that he was in motion.
The moon jerked up and down before his vision. No—he was being carried.
Out of the haze, a figure took shape in front of him. A cloak, dark hair flying with every step, shoulders ramrod-straight with anger.
Mariana.
His master.
Her voice lashed at angry shadows at his back.
"Do you realize what you’ve done? Do you understand even the least little bit of the idiocy it took to land him in this state?"
Her words clanged like metal striking metal, syllable by syllable a rebuke.
Luther ached to respond, to cut in with some hot insult, but his throat was raw fire. Nothing emerged. Suffering raged through him, engulfing him all over again. Her back, rigid and white with rage, was the last he recalled before sleep enveloped him again.
Damn choking.
Harsh, scraping coughs woke him. Luther bolted upright in bed, clutching at his chest, throat afire. His respirations were like sandpaper.
Water. He needed water.
His hand came out blindly, colliding with something hard. Fingers closed around a cup. He tipped it to his lips and drank with wild thirst. Swallowing was agony, yet deliverance. Dryness receded, giving way to coolness that seemed to seep right down to his marrow.
He downed it in seconds.
As the cup left his lips, he was still heaving, shoulders rising and falling with each gasp.
"Do you...need more?"
His voice braced him.
Luther turned his face.
Mari sat on the edge of his bed, small in her position, her fists locked in her lap. Worries marked her usually bright face, blurring her eyes to something older, heavier.
Luther simply glared at her for a hard moment. The silence hung, interrupted only by his breathing.
His eyes roamed around the room. Wooden walls. Shelves he was used to. The blanket beneath him had a mild pine scent.
His own cabin. His room.
He glanced down at himself. His jacket was gone, replaced with a plain brown shirt. Beneath it, he felt tightness—layers of bandages wrapped across his chest, his arms, all the way under the blanket. He shifted slightly, and pain flared instantly.
Mari’s hand pressed to his shoulder.
"Don’t move," she told brusquely. "You’ll make it worse. My sister infused the magic in you. It’s still working. If you strain it, it won’t hold."
Her voice trembled at the edges, showing how close she was to breaking.
Luther blinked, then reached up a hand and touched his ear. Something small and icy was in the spot. A crystal.
A new one.
Wonderful, he grumbled bitterly, even half-murdered I have accessories thrown on me. He was tempted to mock out loud, but the work of speech was too much. His throat burned with the sticky wisps of blood, and he settled back with a mild scowl instead.
Mari’s eyes softened, relief flickering that he wasn’t trying to speak. She adjusted the blanket around him carefully, as though even the brush of fabric might shatter him further.
Luther glared at the ceiling. His body felt heavy and hollow, as if someone had dug him out and all that remained was skin and bones. He wanted to laugh at how silly it was. He’d fought a dragon, plundered its riches, twisted his magic to protect others—and now he was practically beaten by his own coughing spell.
A half-chuckle, half-groan rumble out of his throat.
Mari leaned over to one side, her head cocked. "What?"
"Nothing," he snarled, his voice harsh. "Just... observing how dramatic I look."
She didn’t smile. Instead, her lips were pursed into a thin line, and she shook her head very slowly.
"You could have died," she whispered.
The significance of the words hung in the air.
Luther shifted his eyes away, because he couldn’t handle the expression in her eyes when she said that.
Bang.
The door slammed open with a resounding crack, shaking the frame.
Luther winced involuntarily, his whole body tensing in spite of the pain. Mari sprang to her feet, looking.
Standing at the doorway was Mariana.
She swept into the room like a storm. Her cloak flailed behind her as if it carried the fury itself, her face chiseled from iron.
Her gaze locked on him, burning with an fury that seemed to burden even the air itself down.
"LUTHER!"
His name alone caused the glass windows in the cabin to vibrate.
"You’ve got some explaining to do!"
Luther swallowed.