Yolan forced himself to stay as still as possible, worried that any sudden movements would set the anxious woman off and they would be back to square one. He had never seen anything like this, not in Ashen nor in Ember.

There were visible chunks missing from the woman's hair, and the small patches that remained were thin and straw-like. Her eyes were bloodshot and her pupils cloudy. Yolan wasn't even sure if the woman could see or if she was locating him with magical or telepathic senses. There was blood caked on her upper lip, evidence of several nosebleeds that she hadn't bothered to wipe away.

Most terrifying of all was the rash that covered every inch of the woman's body. Thick red lumps oozed a viscous yellow liquid that further burned her skin as she scratched. Yolan's attempts to heal her had proven largely unsuccessful. He was at a loss for what to do.

He needed the woman to open the lab, but in her current state, she could barely remember who she was, let alone the procedure for getting inside.

Even if she did remember, there were other obstacles as well. She staunchly refused to open the door the night before, telling Yolan that it wasn't safe. When he asked her why it wasn't safe, his question was met with muttered warnings of fire and death.

He was running out of ideas. After debating about the safety of exposing himself to the open air, he tried giving the woman his cloak, hoping it would at least stop the problem from getting worse. He felt a slight burning sensation on his exposed skin, but not enough to warrant concern.

"Oh," the woman said, her eyes widening as she slipped her hand into the sleeve. "That feels nice. What is—?" She cut off halfway through her sentence, glumly pulling her arm out of the sleeve. "Medris doesn't like it."

Yolan's brief excitement turned to frustration as the woman tried to hand the cloak back to him.

He didn't reach out to receive it yet. "Medris?"

As far as Yolan was aware, this woman was the only researcher—alive or dead—that was outside of the lab at the time of the Cataclysm. His current theory was that the other researchers had retreated behind the energy shielding and this woman had been unable to follow them for some reason. As a result, she had been poisoned by the energy in the air, which was not filtered as well outside of the main lab. Even so, this was far beyond Essence or Miasmic poisoning. It was like the energies were eating her flesh from the inside out.

"Medris is not stupid," the woman said, looking almost afraid. "She helps me stay safe. She isn't happy that I let you in but you looked so sad out there… so alone." The woman shook her head. "I don't like being alone either. Medris says you're evil, but she says I'm evil too, so don't feel too bad. That's another thing we have in common, I think. We can be evil together. Or apart, I suppose. I don't think it matters."

The woman waved the stump of her right arm dismissively, which cut off just past her elbow. Yolan wasn't sure if he even wanted to know what happened to the rest of it.

"What's your name?" Yolan belatedly asked, hoping to at least call her something other than 'the woman'. He should have paid more attention to his researchers. At least then, he would know how many of them he was trying to rescue.

"Medris," the woman said with a smile. "Resident librarian of this here facility."

Yolan paused. "You're… Medris? Then who is the other Medris?"

The librarian frowned. "Well, obviously Medris isn't Medris. But she liked my name, so she's using it. Medris doesn't have a name after all."

Yolan nearly gave himself a headache trying to follow that logic. "Then… Medris, can you open the lab door for me?"

Medris shook her head. "The lab is locked. Medris says it isn't safe."

Yolan shook his head. "It'll be fine. I can protect myself, as well as you and… the other Medris…"

The woman shook her head. "If I don't follow Medris' warnings bad things happen. She told me not to scratch the rash and I did. She told me not to go outside and I did. She told me not to let you in and I did. Bad things keep happening. Medris is not stupid."

She was growing more agitated and Yolan couldn't think of a way to calm her down besides to try covering her with the cloak.

Medris paused mid-sentence. "That feels nice," came the woman's small voice from underneath the material.

It was working! This likely confirmed his theories about the energy in the air, but he couldn't figure out why it had caused such an illness instead of killing her outright. Even low level Essence poisoning usually resulted in vomiting and fever, not rash and pustules.

He cast a ward around himself to block out the energy, carefully crafting the spell to only draw in Miasma. General spells were nearly unusable due to the level of Essence in the air, and from what Yolan could tell, the Lerians were having just as much trouble as the Corvi because of the Miasma in the air. Unlike in the dungeons, there were no runes here to automatically stabilize spells and filter out the opposing energy. They had to do it themselves.

This was manageable for someone like Yolan, who was not only magically gifted, but also extensively trained. It was less manageable for most of the children, who weren't allowed out of the dungeons at the moment for their own safety.

Medris cautiously slid her hands into the sleeves, sighing in relief as the material settled on her oozing skin. There were soothing runes, healing runes and energy blocking runes all built into that cloak, it was designed specifically for travel between Ember and Ashen. Yolan planned to make as many as he could once he could get a hold of enough fabric.

Medris frowned. "Medris doesn't like it," she said. "She keeps hissing. But I think I will keep it. It feels nice."

Yolan wasn't sure how long it would take for the woman's mind to heal—if it was even possible—but he could at least take her away from here as soon as he rescued the people in the lab. Her statement gave him an idea.

"Medris," he said. "The other Medris didn't like this cloak, right?"

Medris nodded hesitantly.

"Which means that not everything she says is correct," Yolan said gently. "The lab door is like that cloak. It's safe. I can protect you. Can you please let me in?"

Medris looked panicked. "The lab is dangerous. Fire and pain and screaming. Medris doesn't like the lab. Don't make me…"

She covered her head with the hood, curling in on herself.

"It's all right," Yolan said, putting his hand on the woman's shoulder. "It can wait. Just think about it. There are people in there that need our help?"

Medris straightened, looking up into his face, her eyes wet with tears. "They're all still in there…"

Yolan nodded. "They are. They need our help."

Medris looked torn. "I told you it wasn't safe," she whispered.

"And I'm telling you, I can protect us both," Yolan repeated. "Trust me, please, Medris. I'll take you away from here."

Medris' eyes widened in a mixture of hope and alarm. She had an argument with herself, speaking so quickly that Yolan couldn't even catch the words. He kept his hand on her shoulder, hoping the physical touch would help to ground her.

Medris straightened up suddenly, her eyes resolute. "Take me away. Far away. I want to feel the sun on my face. I want to lie in a hot bath. I want to be alone and happy."

Yolan nodded. "I promise."

Medris backed up a step and bowed. This was the most lucid she had looked since he arrived. "I will open the door as my thanks for the cloak."

Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

The woman led him to the lab, pressing one of the runes to make an interface appear above the handle. She hovered over the numbers, her brow furrowing. "I just… need to remember the combination. I should have remembered it. I have a great memory for such things. I just… I…"

She trailed off, slouching as the clouded look returned to her eyes.

Yolan's shoulders drooped. If she couldn't remember the combination, he would have to go searching through the records and hope that someone had written it down.

"Right! It was the first day of the project!" Medris exclaimed, pulling a journal from her bag. She flipped to the first page, reading off the numbers as she typed them in. "Four. Three. Two. Seven. Nine. Eight…"

The door clicked and Medris moved to open it.

"Wait!" Yolan sprang forward, dragging the woman away from the door.

Medris yelped. "What? What did I do?" she asked, her voice distraught.

"No, no!" Yolan said quickly, trying to reassure the poor woman. "You didn't do anything wrong, but you said it was dangerous inside. I should be the one to open it."

"Oh," Medris said, wiping the tears from her eyes. "Right… that makes sense." She chuckled ruefully. "Medris is yelling at me too. Everyone is yelling at me today."

Yolan moved Medris to the side and wrapped her in the strongest ward he could conjure before doing the same for himself. He didn't think there would be anything dangerous inside, but it didn't hurt to be sure.

Carefully, Yolan opened the door.

Nothing rushed to attack him. There was no burst of energy or fire or anything else that Medris had claimed was inside the lab.

Yolan nodded at Medris. "See? It's fine. You wait out here, I'll see who's inside."

Medris nodded. She sat on the ground, muttering to herself as she pulled out a journal and a pen.

The lab was enormous. Yolan had never actually been inside, as it was deemed safer if he never stepped foot in the facility itself. If he was implicated in its creation, it could mean political trouble for Korsa and for his mother if the project was ever discovered. Jorna wasn't even aware of its existence. He would be furious that Yolan had taken such a risk, but the situation was dire and they were running out of time.

And as they saw over the last few months, it was too little too late.

Yolan stopped just inside the door, his breath catching in his throat. The lab was empty. Not just empty of people—though that would have been concerning enough—but also empty of desks, chairs, cabinets; there was nothing but a smooth-walled cavern with a floor made of black and white crystal. The crystal climbed the walls a few inches, merging seamlessly with the plain stone.

Black smudges in the rough shape of Lerians lined the walls.

Yolan's heart sped up. Whatever happened here went beyond the Cataclysm. It was sudden, concentrated and violent. He forced himself to walk to the center of the room, intent on finding more information before he allowed himself to retreat.

He hissed in pain, yanking his foot back from a white patch of crystal he had stepped on. Kneeling down, he ran his fingers over the black crystal with no effect. Then he cautiously touched the white crystal with the tip of his finger.

His skin sizzled and he yanked his hand away, his brow furrowing. He had seen the black crystal on the way there—it absorbed Miasma and kept it in stasis somehow—but he had yet to see any of the white crystal. He could only assume that it was the opposite of the Miasmic crystal, but who would place Essence-absorbing crystal on Ember. It would affect the environment if they drew too much Essence from the air.

Yolan would have to lock the door on his way out. The lab should contain the Essence crystal long enough that he could return to deal with it.

A groan of pain had Yolan glancing toward the door, but he realized a moment later that it wasn't coming from the hallway, it was coming from in front of him.

He sprang forward, avoiding the white crystal patches as he located the door to what looked like a supply closet at the back of the lab.

He yanked the door open only to be met with the horrible stench of rotting flesh. He backed away, guarding his nose against the foul odor.

Five researchers—one Lerian and four Corvi, by the looks of their energy signatures—lay on the floor of the room, their skin covered in blisters and their eyes closed or hooded. The one who had groaned was lying closest to the door, a journal clutched in his hands.

"W-who—?" the man said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Don't try to speak," Yolan said, kneeling next to him. "I'm going to try to heal you."

He cast a healing spell on the man, but the Miasma was ripped from his spell and dragged into the nearby crystal.

Yolan frowned, trying another spell, but once again, it was rendered useless.

"It… won't work…" the man croaked, somehow managing a wry grin despite the situation. Only half of his face followed the expression, giving him an odd lopsided look. "Do you… think… we haven't… tried that already?" He shook his head, wincing in pain. "The crystal… it stopped the surge… but it… cancels magic…" The man held out the journal in a shaky hand. "I… wrote my findings… in the time I had…" He dropped the journal into Yolan's hand. "The next group… can follow my designs… if they… do it right… it won't… explode."

Yolan clutched the journal, his frown deepening. "I'm going to get you out of here. Just hold on—"

"No." The man shook his head, leaning forward to retch until a glob of blood splattered on the ground. "It's too late for us. Medris... Is she… still out there?"

Yolan nodded. "I'm tending to her. Did you want to see her?"

The man shook his head. "No. I don't… want her to… see me… like this… tell her… tell her I'm sorry… I should have… run the tests…"

Yolan crouched by his side, utterly helpless to do anything as the man passed away in agony. The other researchers never stirred, passing away in their unconscious states.

He lined their bodies up next to each other and covered them with a sheet.

"I'm sorry," he said, bowing his head in respect. "I won't be able to bury you for some time. Please forgive me for leaving you here like a coward."

He walked out of the room, and then out of the lab, closing and locking the door behind.

Medris perked up when he came out. But her excitement faded when she noticed he was alone. "The others?"

Yolan shook his head. "There was no one in there," he lied. "I'm sorry, Medris."

"Liar!" she snapped, her voice growing raspy. "There were five. I saw them! Don't lie to me!"

Had she opened the door before he arrived? That would explain the rashes.

"We must go Medris," Yolan said. "I can bring you somewhere safe."

"Not yet," Medris said, in the same raspy voice. "I cannot go yet."

Medris turned her journal to the last page and scrawled something in quick, messy handwriting, then she gripped the pencil in her fist, slowly dragging it across the paper like she was trying to carve the words into stone.

Medris stood and ran down the hallway, entering a room that Yolan was fairly sure was the library.

When she emerged, she barely looked at him.

"I will go," she said. "But I will never forgive you."

She turned to leave and Yolan grabbed her arm before she ran straight out the front door without any wards. Even with the cloak, it might be dangerous.

A spark zapped Yolan's hand and he yanked it back, but he had managed to forestall the confused Medris.

"I'm sorry," Yolan said, rubbing his hand against his clothes. "I need to shield you first. It's dangerous out there."

Medris raised her eyebrows. "Right, sorry." She stood before him, patiently waiting for him to perform the spell.

He wrapped them both in wards, giving them a layer of each ward that he could make portable.

"Don't go out all at once," he said. "Test the air first. Pull your hand back if you feel any discomfort."

Medris nodded, doing as she was told. When she had left the facility up to her elbow, she happily ran outside.

"Medris, wait!" Yolan ran out after her, a whisper of fear making his heart beat faster. He turned around, trying to see if something was following him, but there was nothing in the hallway.

Medris ignored his warning, skipping happily around the small cavern. Light filtered through the hole above, bathing her in a bright yellow hue that almost distracted from the state of her skin. She turned her face to the sky, basking in the sunlight for the first time in months.

Yolan smiled, taking this as a sign that she might one day be back to her normal self.

This was all your fault, whispered a voice in his ear.

He turned around, but nothing was there.

He shook it off. He had no time for guilt. There were many people to save—and many more to bury.

He would come back when all of this was over and properly bury the brave researchers who had tried so hard to prevent this tragedy. They deserved to be remembered with honor, not left to rot in an unmarked closet.

He pulled out the journal he had taken from the researcher, reading a random page.

Date: 9.3.2798 (Ashen Calendar)

Chesha Kepner, Miasmic Rune Technician

I've almost got it! There's a problem with the spell, but the runes are solid. I just need to deal with the overheating problem.

I've sketched out a few new runes and I plan to try implementing them later this month. Safety is key. If this goes wrong, it could cause more harm than we are trying to prevent. I wonder sometimes if I should have just kept to using the runes as they were first designed, but I can't help but marvel at what I've created.

Underneath the entry, a set of runes had been carefully documented, their designs explained in notes off to the side. Yolan examined the runes in fascination. He had been told that they were experimenting with mixed runes, but he hadn't seen any for himself.

Fear sliced through Yolan's veins and he cried out, dropping the book.

It flopped to the ground, pages side down.

The fear didn't dissipate, it was joined by anger; unthinking, unreasoning anger. Yolan clutched his head, screaming as the emotions tore through him.

As quickly as the emotions had come, they disappeared, replaced with a sense of urgency.

Destroy the book.

Yolan frowned. He couldn't destroy the book, it was their one clue to what had happened in that lab.

Destroy it!

"No," he hissed.

Medris turned to look at him. "Are you all right?"

It took extreme effort to drag his eyes away from the journal on the ground. He nodded slowly, not trusting his voice at the moment.

"Are we leaving?" Medris asked, looking not only lucid, but happy for the first time since he had met her. "I'd like to go back to Ashen. I haven't been home in so long."

Yolan swallowed hard, getting his emotions under control. "Yes, we're leaving."

Destroy it! the voice screamed in his head. Get rid of it. Burn it. Rip it to shreds. It hurts! It is dangerous.

Yolan ignored the urge. Instead, he carefully placed a shield around himself.

What are you doing?

Rather than take a guess and be wrong, Yolan made it to repel both Miasma and Essence inward.

What is this?

A precaution, Yolan said, retrieving the journal from the ground and placing it in his satchel. It's a pleasure to finally meet you… Medris.

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