Phantom Heal
The chamber was quiet. Too quiet.
Elara's eyes opened first. Head pounding. Vision swimming.
She pushed herself upright, armor scraping against stone.
Raska groaned nearby, clutching her throat. Bruises already darkening her skin.
"…We alive?"
"Barely."
The cloaked figure was gone. The pit yawned empty and dark.
Elara's gaze swept the chamber—five adventurers sprawled unconscious. The boy lay crumpled against the far wall, chest plate torn away, leather armor shredded.
Not moving.
Something shifted above them.
A white shape dropped soundlessly from the darkness.
Elara saw the arc first—a stone tomahawk, dark and chipped, descending in a perfect overhead split. Straight for the boy's head.
Raska's eyes snapped open.
She lunged.
Her shoulder slammed into the boy as the tomahawk came down. Stone bit into stone, exploding sparks as the blade shattered against the floor inches from his skull.
The Almiraj shrieked.
It twisted mid-fall, already reaching for another strike. Raska hit the ground hard, rolled, came up on one knee as the creature raised the broken haft like a spike.
She drove her claws into its throat.
The Almiraj convulsed, kicked once, then collapsed. The stone weapon clattered and rolled to a stop.
Silence rushed back in.
Raska stayed there, hunched over the corpse, breath coming in ragged pulls. Blood dripped from her claws onto white fur.
"…That makes us even," she muttered.
Elara glanced at her.
"He drew its attention," Raska added quietly. "Figured I should return the favor."
She swayed as the adrenaline bled away, then forced herself up and moved to the boy's side. Kneeling, her hand went to his throat. Pulse check.
"Breathing." She paused. Frowned. "Wait."
"What?"
Elara crossed the chamber and knelt beside them.
Raska pulled the boy's torn shirt aside. Greenish residue stained his skin—crushed plant matter, sticky and dark. Phantom Vine fragments mixed with blood and sweat.
"He had hidden some in his shirt," Raska said slowly. "When did he— sneaky little—"
Elara examined it. "Must've gotten crushed when—"
Her fingers traced his ribs.
Intact.
She checked for fractures. Found none. The bone structure was solid. Bruising present but fading too fast. The skin around the vine residue felt warm.
She pulled her hand back.
Silence.
"Healing potions don't work like this," Raska said quietly.
"No."
"And Phantom Vine isn't—it's not a healing herb. It doesn't DO this."
Elara stared at the greenish residue. At wounds closing faster than they should. At heat radiating from skin that had been cold minutes ago.
Neither of them could believe what they were seeing. Neither had an explanation.
"We deal with this later," Elara said finally. "First, we get answers."
Raska's jaw tightened. She looked at the unconscious adventurers. "Yeah. Let's."
---
Elara found healing potions in the axeman's pack. Five vials. She kept one for the boy, used two on herself and Raska.
The potion burned going down. Elara felt the magic work—ribs knitting, cuts closing. Not fast. Normal speed. The kind that took minutes, left you sore.
Not like what was happening to the boy.
She pushed the thought aside.
Raska kicked the dwarf awake. He groaned, eyes fluttering open, then saw her standing over him. He tried to move. Couldn't. His arms were bound with his own belt.
"Morning," Raska said, grin sharp and unfriendly.
The dwarf's eyes went wide. He looked around—saw Elara standing with her sword drawn.
"We have questions," Elara said calmly. "You're going to answer them."
"I don't—"
Raska's boot pressed against his chest. Not hard. Just enough. "Why did you need Phantom Vine?"
"We're freelance! Independent! We just needed the Vine for—"
"Try again." Her boot pressed harder.
"Okay! Okay!" He gasped. "We work for someone. Supply runs. Materials from the Dungeon and the surface. That's it!"
"Who?"
"I don't know! We never meet them! They send requests through intermediaries. Pay is good. No questions asked."
Elara stepped closer. "What do they want with Phantom Vine?"
"Research. That's all they said. Research."
"What kind of research?"
"I don't KNOW!" His voice cracked. "They don't tell us! We just collect what they ask for. Herbs, minerals, supplies, sometimes—"
He stopped.
Raska's eyes narrowed. "Sometimes what?"
Silence.
"Spit it out," Raska growled.
The dwarf's face went pale. "...Monsters. Sometimes they want captured monsters. Live ones."
The words hung in the air.
Elara's expression didn't change. "What kind?"
"Low-level. Goblins. Kobolds. War Shadows once." He swallowed. "I don't know what they do with them. We just deliver."
"And the Phantom Vine?"
"Same. Just another supply order. They offered triple the usual rate." His eyes darted between them. "Look, we're just contractors. We don't know anything about what they're doing."
"But you know it's illegal," Elara said flatly.
He didn't answer. Didn't need to.
Raska looked at Elara. "Evilus?"
"Maybe." Elara's jaw tightened. "Or something worse."
The dwarf's eyes widened. "Wait—we're not Evilus! We're just—"
"Suppliers," Elara finished. "For people who capture monsters and conduct illegal research. That makes you complicit."
"We didn't—"
"Save it." Raska's boot lifted. "Who was that figure? The one in the cloak."
"I don't know."
"Wrong answer."
"I DON'T KNOW!" His voice broke. "I've never seen them before! You saw him too—didn't you? Always hidden. Never showed their face." He swallowed, breath hitching. "They just… showed up. This wasn't supposed to happen. It was meant to be a simple collection job."
Elara's jaw tightened.
Raska glanced at the unconscious adventurers, then back at her.
"…He wiped them for nothing," Raska said.
Elara didn't argue.
"What familia are you from?"
"We…"
He didn't finish. One of the armor pieces bore the emblem anyway.
"…Soma."
Elara and Raska exchanged glances.
Elara straightened. "We're taking your weapons," she said.
The dwarf's eyes widened. "You'll kill us out here."
Raska shook her head. "No." She reached down, pulled the axe from his grasp, then tossed a short sword back at his feet. "You keep one. Enough to fight monsters. Not people."
The amazoness stirred. She pushed herself up on one elbow, winced, then froze as she took in the scene—the stripped weapons, the dwarf on the ground, Elara standing over him.
Her gaze shifted. Found the boy.
He lay slumped where they'd left him, eyes closed, chest rising shallowly. Her brow furrowed. She didn't look away.
Elara stepped closer to the dwarf. "You turn back. Now. No detours. No jobs. Straight up."
Raska moved in beside her, eyes cold. "If you can walk, you can crawl. If you can crawl, you can surface."
Elara met the dwarf's eyes. "And when you do," she said quietly, "the Guild will be waiting."
The dwarf's face drained of color. "N–no—please. Don't report us. We won't do it again. I swear."
Raska didn't look impressed. "You already did," she said.
Elara turned away. "Move."
"What about—" Raska gestured toward the boy.
"We take him with us. Now."
---
A Partial Lie
The boy's eyes opened slowly. Everything felt distant. Muffled.
Voices nearby. Elara's. Raska's. Talking quietly.
He tried to sit up. Failed. His body wouldn't cooperate. Everything felt heavy. Wrong.
"Easy." Elara's face appeared above him. "Don't move yet."
"What..." His voice barely worked. "What happened?"
"You passed out. You're hurt." Her tone was careful. Measured. "We're leaving. Can you walk?"
"I... don't know."
"Try."
Strong hands—Raska's—pulled him upright. The world tilted. He gasped.
"Steady." Raska's voice in his ear. "We've got you."
His chest didn't hurt as much as it should. His ribs felt... fine? That didn't make sense. He'd felt them break. Heard them crack.
"My chest—"
"Healing potion," Elara said quickly. Too quickly. "You'll be sore for a few days."
Something in her tone felt off. Wrong.
But his head was swimming. Couldn't focus. Couldn't think clearly.
"Come on," Raska said. "We need to move."
They half-carried him toward the tunnel. Away from the chamber. Away from the adventurers. Away from the pit where the cloaked figure had vanished.
Behind them, the dwarf watched them go. Silent.
Wondering if they'd all just made a terrible mistake.
The boy stumbled between them, vision blurring.
He didn't notice the looks Elara and Raska exchanged over his head.
Didn't see the way Elara's hand stayed near her sword. Ready.
Didn't feel the tension in Raska's grip. Like she was holding something dangerous.
Didn't know what they'd seen while he was unconscious.
Didn't know they'd decided not to tell him.
Yet.
---