Reincarnation ➵ The Witcher

xxvi.

EDITH woke up with a scolding hot anger she'd never felt before and adrenaline racing through her veins. She couldn't remember anything after she agreed to duck down, but now Edith's vision strangely had the same darkness that she usually contained in her dreams. And she was awake.. wide awake. The anger kept rising in sync with her heartbeat, and she pitfully attempted to extinguish it.

Her hands were tied painfully above her with thick rope, and a few meters away from her she could see the sight of the bard and Geralt tied together. Her blood pressure was through the roof, and she was sweating as her temperature increased with darkness increasing altogether.

"Fuck.." she groaned, her back arching against the wall at the uncomfortable effects of whatever the hell was wrong with her. She held back a whimper, pain forthcoming in her mind but she noticed both her companions were solidly knocked out. The cave was empty apart for the three of them at the current time, but Edith noticed Geralt's sword lying not too far away from her in the pain induced state.

It felt like molten lava was poured into her blood stream; thick bouts of pain was oozingly reaching into Edith's bones forcefully. She was sure her lip was bleeding from how hard she'd bit into it, but it did little to distract her.

She let out a short scream, pain directing itself into her palms before sleep took over once again.

Edith noticed the darkness first. The darkness calling out to her, urging her to come forward within the chaos. She reached out for it, achingly close, but as her fingertips touched the edge of it the darkness seemed to rot away; seemed to decay as it was replaced by a crimson red that promised death.

"You are unbalanced, Edith." A voice within the darkness promised, and she believed it wholeheartedly, "You were born against nature's will, dear girl."

Edith's hands woke her a second time, the pain in her hands doubling with the horrid taste of copper invading her mouth. She watched as Geralt attempted to struggle against the binds, but she could do little but slump forward in exhaustion. The darkness was once again in her vision that was only usually present in her dreams, and Geralt's gaze locked onto her figure in worry.

"Edith?" He questioned, and he watched as she couldn't muster the energy to even lift her head in acknowledgement.

"This is the part where we escape." The bard began.

"This is the part where they kill us."

"Who's they?" The bard wasn't given a minute to spare before an elven woman solidly kicked him in the face.
Edith listened to what was going on, but the sound was distorted as if she was being held under water.

"Elves." Geralt hissed, and the bard watched as his lute was taken by one of their kidnappers.

"Oi, that's my lute. Give that back. Quick, Geralt. Do your--your witchering--"

"Shut up!" Geralt snapped, and the elven woman replied in her native tongue before swiftly kicking his leg.

"My elder speech is rough. I only got part of that."

The woman sneered at the two of them, "Humans, shut up."

Edith's head eventually raised, and she let out a groan of pain. Her hands were throbbing painfully, and the anger beneath her bones simmered in preparation to boil over again, and Edith didn't know what exactly it would boil over to.

Edith listened to the bard reply in Elder, and locked her gaze with Geralt's own golden orbs that sung in the brief darkness of the cave. She offered a tired smile, but his eyes stayed locked onto the corner of her mouth where crimson was evidently pooling over. But that wasn't what bothered Edith, as the only thing that did was the strange throbbing engulfing both of her hands strangely.

"Do you wanna die right now?" The woman snapped.

Geralt's gaze diverted from Edith, "As opposed to later?"

"No, please, not the lu--" the bard was delievered another swift kick, and her anger returned with vengeance.

"Hey!" Edith yelled in anger, "leave him alone, bitch!"

The woman had turned towards her, "Or what?"

Edith's back arched once again, her breathing increasing as the pain ricocheted across her body. Her hands attempted to flatten against the floor behind her, in an urge to cool the rising temperature down, but was met with the sound of the wall decaying instead.

Edith's vision was eventually completely clouded over by exhaustion, and she fell limp against her binds without a second to spare. The only indication of Edith being once awake was the image of two rotting dead circles on the wall, exactly where her hands were placed moments before.