Page 11 of Blade of the Nightking

No rot.

No decay.

No rancid stench of death.

Nothing.

Whatever this thing was… it wasn’t one of the Infected.

The silver of starlight caught in its black, orb-like eyes as they fixed on me, unblinking.

Starlight…? But there were no stars tonight.

A cold dread spread through me, deeper than fear.

“Rìan,” I breathed.

The creature went still, that awful smile stretching wider across its sagging, graying skin. It edged back a step, as if preparing to spring⁠—

And everything changed.

The snarling, the metal striking bone, Aedric’s shouted breath—all of it vanished mid-sound, cut off so cleanly it stunned me. In its place came the ordinary hush of the nighttime forest: leaves whispering, insects buzzing, branches creaking in the wind.

And the monster above me was gone.

He stood in its place.

Pale skin like moonlit stone. Dark hair falling in a careless sweep across his brow. Silver eyes glowing brightly as they fixed on me, cold and cruel all at once. He wore all black, so dark he looked as though he were made of night and shadow.

Terror surged up my throat, deeper than anything the Infected had ever managed to stir.

I turned my head. Aedric was on his knees beside me, exactly where he’d been before, when I’d asked him for water. His eyes were wide and unfocused, staring through the world instead of at it. Every few seconds his body jerked, grunts slipping from his throat. His fingers twitched against his legs, curled as if he were holding a blade.

Rìan still had him. In his mind, he was still fighting the Infected.

The cool presence in my own head withdrew—cleanly, suddenly—and agony slammed back into me. Heat ripped through my body as if I were being burned alive a second time. I tried to scream, but what escaped was an animal sound, something I barely recognized as mine.

My gaze fell to my arm. It was blackened again, burned almost beyond recognition.

Rìan loomed over me, arms crossed, his face tight.

“You’ve seen better days, Eidra.” His voice was velvet and steel.

An illusion… It had all been an illusion…

He nudged my uninjured side with the toe of his boot, then grimaced. “You can't seem to stay out of trouble, can you?” He straightened, his hands flexing at his sides.

“An Infected attack.” He gestured sharply toward the trees. “I thought that might finally bring you to your senses. Awaken some instinct to survive. Yet here you are.” He looked back at me, disappointment settling over his features. “Tell me, Eidra... are you truly so eager to die a smoldering pile of char?”

I couldn't even glare at him anymore. I could barely keep my eyes open.

“Any last words?”

“Fu… Fff…” I couldn’t speak, couldn’t think past the pain.

His eyebrows rose a fraction. He tilted his head, and that cool presence slid back into my mind. The agony eased—barely—pushed to the edges so my thoughts could gather long enough for speech. “Better?”

“F… fuck you.” My cracked lips split as I forced the words out.