Healer's Nightmare

The drip of water echoed through the prison's dank corridors like a metronome counting down to madness. Something caught her eye across the corridor—a peculiar shimmer in the torchlight. Where there should have been bars of Ethereal Marble like the ones that held them, there was instead an intricate web of silk strands, gossamer-thin yet somehow more menacing than steel. They formed a complex crisscross pattern that seemed to shift and dance in the flickering light.

Through this ethereal lattice, a figure lurked in the shadows. As Mara's vision adjusted, she made out the form of a boy, perhaps no older than sixteen, leaning against the right wall with an unsettling casualness. His black hair fell to his shoulders in unwashed tangles, but it was his eyes that made her breath catch in her throat. They were pools of absolute darkness, devoid of whites entirely. Yet somehow, impossibly, there was warmth in those bottomless depths—a spark of humanity that refused to be extinguished.

"So what brings you folks?" The boy's voice was surprisingly melodious, carrying none of the harshness one might expect from such an appearance.

Mara opened her mouth to respond, but Finn's hand shot out, gripping her forearm with enough force to bruise. She bit back a yelp of surprise as Finn stepped forward, positioning himself slightly in front of her and Rosemary.

"We were traveling through the Forsaken Forest," Finn said, his voice carefully neutral. "Got ambushed."

A smile played across the boy's lips, revealing teeth that seemed just a touch too sharp to be entirely human. 

"Half the truth won't make the cut." His black eyes fixed on Finn with unsettling intensity. "Hiding something? There's no need to be afraid."

Finn's grip on Mara's arm tightened fractionally. "I'm telling the truth."

"Are you?" The boy raised his right hand, palm facing upward. His face crammed against the silk net that appeared vulnerable to the slightest touch but stood as strong as steel. In the center of his palm was a marking Mara hadn't noticed before—a perfect black diamond with a single white dot at its center. 

"It doesn't matter," the boy continued before Finn could respond, his voice taking on an edge of bitter amusement. "What matters is that I can help you escape." He pointed at Finn's sword with a deliberate slowness that made the gesture seem almost theatrical.

"No." Finn's response was immediate and flat. "I don't trust you."

The boy rolled his head around his shoulders, producing a series of unsettling cracks that echoed off the stone walls. "Trust? Oh, that's rich coming from you." He leaned forward, pressing against the silk web that contained him. "But since you're so hellbent on trust, let me tell you something."

His black eyes seemed to grow even darker, if such a thing were possible. "I made a deal with the Shadow Demon. A bargain to help my fellow stone-carvers harness the power of an Ethereal Marble mine. Such power we could extract, such purity we could achieve—or so we thought." He laughed, a hollow sound that held no mirth. "But power always has a price, doesn't it? Of course, I didn't read the rascal's print."

The boy's fingers traced the diamond mark on his palm. "I lost control. The power... it was too much. Too pure for me. When I came back to my senses, more than half the stone-carvers were dead. The others..." He trailed off, his expression twisting into something between grief and rage. "Well, that was the bargain's true price, wasn't it?"

He gestured at the silk web that imprisoned him. "This Unholy Tarantula Silk. It drains my powers, keeps me weak. But your sword's an Artifact of the Black Rain, isn't it? Throw it hard enough, and I can use it to free myself. Then I'll remove your bars." His black eyes gleamed. "Simple trade, really. Your freedom for mine."

Finn's laugh was sharp and cold. "Ah, fascinating! Your story is amusing, but it doesn't convince me. Forgive me if I'm not eager to arm a mass murderer who deals with demons."

"Finn!" Rosemary's voice cracked through the air. She pushed past him, moving closer to the bars. "This isn't the time for your stupid paranoia. Look around! Do you see another way out of here? Because I don't."

Even Venom gave what could only be described as an approving hiss.

Finn's jaw worked silently for a moment, his eyes darting between Rosemary, his snake, and their unusual would-be savior. Finally, he let out a grunt that seemed to start in his boots. "Fine. But if this is a trick..."

"Yes, yes, you'll kill me, I know," the boy said with a wave of his hand. "Can we get this over with?"

With movements that suggested he was fighting against every instinct he possessed, Finn worked his hand through the bars of their cell. The Ethereal Marble sparked at his touch, sending visible jolts of magical energy up his arm. His face contorted in pain, but he managed to position the sword.

With a grunt of effort, he sent the blade spinning through the air. It struck the silk web with a sound like thunder, and for a moment, the entire corridor was bathed in gleaming white light. When Mara could see again, the web was gone, dissolved into oblivion.

The boy struggled to his feet, his movements suggesting someone far older than his appearance would indicate. He shook his head as if to clear it, a smile splitting his face.

"The deal," Finn growled. "Remember it."

The boy's response was to reach for the sword where it had fallen. Finn tensed, but the boy simply turned it in his hands, studying it with what looked like professional appreciation. Then, without warning, he thrust his arm toward their cell. The Ethereal Marble bars shimmered and began to sink into the floor.

Mara and Rosemary stumbled out of the cell, both offering hurried thanks to their liberator. Even Venom gave an appreciative hiss. Finn remained silent, his expression stony even as the boy handed back his sword with an elaborate bow.

Before anyone could say more, a brighter light appeared at the end of the corridor. A guard rounded the corner, torch held high, his eyes widening as he took in the scene before him. His free hand summoned a rough cube of rock and shot it at the four.

The boy's black eyes glittered in the approaching torchlight. He slammed his palm onto the floor and forged a wall that shattered the incoming block. But the barrier crumbled in a second, as a large boulder smashed through it, showering debris all over the escapees.

The cells grew rowdier; their bars rang with the clash of claws and shouts. The boy jammed both his palms on the ground, but instead of crafting another wall, he did what Mara or the others would least expect of him. All the bars melted away, and the prisoners poured forth from their cells. Befuddled and overwhelmed, the wave of creatures swept the guard off his feet before he could conjure another attack. They trampled him and tore him apart limb from limb, even dissecting his torso.

"Well then," the boy said, "Let's get going!"

Mara and her allies followed the boy after the beasts stormed through the place; the former healer stopped for a while and glanced at the poor guard's carcass, but Rosemary tugged at Mara's arm and pulled her back from the pause.

As they arrived at the point where the routes split into three, the boy halted.

"We'll take the route on the right," pointing his index finger in that direction, "that'll lead us to the sewers; from there we can slip our way into the heart of Orden."

More voices echoed from the broader tunnel ahead.

"Quick!" he said as he sprinted into the passage. The others tailed him, splashing through the shallow puddles.

They arrived at a rusty iron gate. Mara noticed that in its center it bore markings carved into it that resembled the ones in the boy's palm. The young stone-carver stepped forward and pressed his palm into the heart of the gate. The iron gate clicked and creaked open.

The voices behind grew, and so did the flickering of torches. The boy shut the gate, and they rushed down a flight of stairs. As they reached the flat stone floor, the boy reached for the ground and in an instant wove a sturdy wall from whatever stone that was at his disposal.

"I don't know how much time this will buy us," the boy said, his voice shaking for the first time.

"We're really grateful for all that you've done for us." Mara said.

"Well, I just stuck to my promise, that's all."

"Cut the chatter; save it for later." Finn interrupted, pushing them aside, and glared at the boy.

"Lead the way. This mess of a labyrinth is enough to make my head swirl." 

The boy laughed, shaking his head, and strode ahead, waving his hand as he pioneered the route to freedom.