Chapter Text
He thought he was hallucinating when he first heard their voices, assumed that repeated blows to the head had knocked something loose or that this was his mind’s desperate attempt to make what were likely his last moments a little more tolerable. But when the voices got louder, came nearer, he somehow found the strength to lift his pounding head and look up with his one good eye, the other swollen shut and pulsing with pain.
The hallucinations were worse than he thought, because he couldn’t just hear them, he could see them. Their forms swam in and out of focus as he tried to blink his eye into cooperation, but there was no mistaking the seven figures that had stepped into the chamber and were now talking to his captors. He knew they weren’t real, that there was no way they could be here, but still his chest suddenly ached in a way that had nothing to do with bruises or broken ribs. He wanted so desperately for them to be actually there, to be able to see them just one more time, even if all they had for him now was contempt.
In the end, he really hadn’t put up much of a fight. For all his power and talent, he was still a scholar, not a soldier. He wasn’t cut out for this, and his skin prickled with shame to think of how easily they had overpowered him. Not that anyone would ever know, because they’d killed everyone else, most in the fight, and the rest one by one in some kind of ritual. He knew he should have been trying to find out what they were doing, but he couldn’t see very well and his ears were still ringing, and stringing together coherent thoughts was becoming increasingly impossible. Another sign of weakness; he really would have thought he could last longer than this before losing his mind. It couldn’t have been much longer than a few hours.
He didn’t know why they had left him alive. He almost wished they hadn’t. Out of everyone in the expedition, surely none deserved that fate more than he would have. It wasn’t as though he wanted to die, of course – in fact, being on the precipice this way, he was more terrified of it than ever. But he couldn’t deny he deserved it. After all he had done, he deserved worse. Maybe that was why he was still alive, maybe whatever they had in store for him would be worse.
There was a long conversation taking place between his captors and the people he hesitated to call his friends, most of which he could not follow, because thinking still felt like wading through tar and he couldn’t hold his head up for very long at a time and what did it matter what the hallucinations were saying, at any rate? There were more pressing things to occupy his attention, various points of pain on his body, his clothes sticking to the wounds where their blades had cut him, bruises blooming where he had been struck and kicked and thrown against the wall. No matter how many times he spit it out, his mouth was full of blood, thick and metallic on his tongue.
And he was so cold. They had stripped off nearly all of his clothing, leaving him with nothing but boots, trousers and his thin undershirt against the frigid temperatures of subterranean Eiselcross, which only seemed to get colder the deeper they went – which made no thermodynamic sense so it must have been a part of the magic of the ruins. He constantly had to grit his teeth to keep them from chattering and the metal of the chains burned cold against his bare wrists. He was half glad of the chill of the floor beneath him, because it had made his legs so numb that it significantly dulled the pain of his bruised knees scraping against the stone.
After an indeterminate amount of time, he heard movement and painfully looked up again, just in time to see his captors leaving. He wondered whether they had forgotten about him, or purposefully left him to die slowly. The hallucinations, at least, were still here to keep him company. He slumped back down, leaning forward as much as the chains would allow him, grimacing as the cold metal bit into his flesh.
“Oh my gosh, is that Essek??” The first time he could actually make out what any of them were saying, in a voice he was most used to hearing in his mind. Jester.
Hurried footsteps approached, maybe more than one person, he was too tired to look. Then he felt the heat of a body next to him and the unmistakable weight of a hand on his shoulder and he finally realised that it was real, that they were somehow actually here. Too stunned to react, to do anything but hang there, he felt two fingers on his throat, fumbling for a pulse, almost burning hot against his chilled skin.
“Is he okay?” Jester asked, closer now.
“He’s alive,” said Beauregard right next to him, “but he’s freezing cold.” There was a clink of chains above him and he felt a tug on his wrists. “Veth, it’s locked, can you give me a hand?”
He felt like he could barely draw a breath before his arms were suddenly free and he fell forward, pain shooting through his hands and wrists as he caught himself against the floor, oozing wounds bleeding in earnest again as blood rushed back into his arms. Pull yourself together, he thought. Don’t let them see your weakness. He pushed himself up, wiped the blood from his mouth on the back of his hand and looked around.
The Mighty Nein were staring at him like an Empire soldier at a purple worm. He tried and failed not to look for Caleb among them; he was the only one looking away. Beauregard and Nott – Veth now, he supposed – were on his either side. He didn’t see his belongings anywhere.
“Has anyone seen my spellcasting focus?” he asked as neutrally as he could. His throat felt raw.
Fjord looked around. “I think they might have taken your stuff,” he said.
“Oh man, Essek, I’m so sorry!” Jester exclaimed. “We didn’t realise it was you! What are you even doing here?”
Essek forced his numb legs into motion and pushed to his feet. “It’s fine,” he half gasped, trying to catch his breath as the chamber span around him. “We should leave. It’s dangerous here.”
Caduceus took half a step towards him, raising a hand warningly. “Whoah, hey, you might want to sit back down. You don’t look so good.”
“I will be fine,” Essek said. He managed a whole four and a half steps towards the exit before his legs gave out and he collapsed, narrowly saved from hitting the floor full force by Beauregard’s quick reflexes.
“It’s usually a good idea to listen to Cad,” she said as she lowered him back to the ground. “You look like shit.”
Caduceus came over and knelt next to him. “Take it easy, yeah?” he said. “This should take the edge off.” He placed a large, soft hand on Essek’s brow and the warm tingle of healing magic spread out from his palm. The next time Essek blinked, he could open both eyes again.
“It isn’t much,” said Caduceus apologetically, “but I’m almost out of everything.”
The healing spell spread through his body, soothing over the most acute pain, and the more his pounding heart slowed, the faster his mind raced. He had thought he was going to die, he had thought he deserved to die, everyone else was dead and he’d done next to nothing to stop it, the Mighty Nein were here, he was going to live, they had barely spoken to him since they found out, they probably hated him, Caleb was here, Caleb must have hated him most of all, he couldn’t believe he wasn’t dead, he shouldn’t care this much, why were they being so nice to him when they had every reason to hate him, were they going to kill him for what he did, if they killed him here no one would ever know, was that why they were here, he was so happy to see them, why wouldn’t Caleb look at him? He had imagined this reunion a thousand times and a thousand ways, but he had never expected this, for Caleb to just stand there, arms crossed, expression inscrutable. Not even angry, just… indifferent.
Jester appeared on Essek’s other side, holding a large green cloak, which she draped over his shoulders. “Here, you must be freezing.”
Her kindness and his indifference and all of it was too much. Essek looked at the floor, feeling his body start to tremble, then shake. His vision blurred and he realised there were tears in his eyes. He couldn’t even remember when he had last cried, didn’t really understand what it meant, just knew that something inside in him had snapped and his control was slipping. He didn’t want them to see him like this, hated the idea of having to rely on their help and their goodwill, but composure had never been so far out of reach.
Beside him, Caduceus addressed his friends. “Can everyone please go see that we’re safe here and look for Essek’s things? We’re going to need a moment.” After a pause of receding footsteps, he glanced up and added, ”You too, Caleb.”
Essek looked up just in time to see Caleb walking away. He tried to exhale but what came out was more like a sob. He hugged his legs close to his chest and curled into Jester’s cloak and gave in to the despair.
Caduceus wrapped his arms around him and pulled him into a tight hug, impossibly warm against his frigid body. “You’re okay,” he said calmly, “you’re safe now.”
It only made him cry that much harder because after all the pain he’d caused he didn’t deserve to be safe, and he certainly wasn’t okay and doubted he ever would be again.
“Cry as much as you need to,” said Caduceus. “Plenty of room for tears in this world. You’ve had a really rough day and it’s good to let yourself feel your feelings. But they’re going to pass, you’re not going to feel like this forever.”
They stayed there for an indeterminate amount of time, during which Essek tried to stop crying and couldn’t, and then tried to let go and pull away from the hug and couldn’t do that, either. Eventually, Caduceus said, “The others are coming back, so I’m going to cast a spell that will help you calm down. There will be time to talk about it later, but right now we need to get you somewhere warm. Is that okay?”
Essek nodded feebly, and didn’t resist the spell when it came. Immediately, he felt is mind go strangely numb and he couldn’t feel much of anything anymore. Just tired beyond imagination. It was an immense relief and decidedly a spell he needed to learn as soon as possible. He finally pulled away, wiping his eyes.
“Thank you,” he said. “I’m sorry.”
“What are friends for,” Caduceus replied simply.
Beauregard and Yasha were the first to return. “Couldn’t find any of your stuff,” said Beau. She looked at Caduceus. “He going to be okay?”
“I’m fine,” Essek said.
“I’m worried about his temperature,” said Caduceus. “He’s been in the cold too long.”
“I am right here, you know,” Essek protested, albeit without much enthusiasm.
The rest of them returned eventually, all empty-handed, Caleb bringing up the rear. He still wouldn’t look at Essek, and he couldn’t have thanked Caduceus enough that right now all he felt was increasingly sleepy. He had to fight the urge to just lay down where he was and close his eyes for a moment.
“Caleb, we need somewhere warm. Can you make the tower?” asked Beauregard.
“Ja, I can,” said Caleb, “but not here. Let’s get back to the surface so Dagen can join us.”
“Can he walk?” asked Veth, gesturing at Essek.
“Yes,” he replied.
“See, that’s what you said last time and then you fell right over,” Veth said.
“Don’t be mean, Veth, he’s really hurt,” said Jester.
“We’re really hurt all the time and we can still walk,” Veth argued.
“Well, maybe he’s used to floating,” Yasha offered. “Maybe he doesn’t remember how to walk.”
“Then why doesn’t he float?” Veth demanded.
Essek cleared his throat. “In terms of magic,” he said, “I am afraid I’m all out.”
“Me too,” said Jester. “Let’s just go so Caleb can make the tower and we can get some hot cocoa and make a big pile with all the kitties and just snuggle together until Essek is all warm again!”
“A big pile of cats sounds somewhat disconcerting,” said Essek, “but I agree we should go. These ruins are more sinister than they look.” He accepted Caduceus’s outheld arm and pulled himself to his feet. His legs felt even more unsteady than before. “On second thought,” he admitted, “I can’t really feel my legs at the moment.”
“I can just carry you,” Yasha offered. “I carry Beau all the time.”
Ordinarily he would have argued against the indignity, but he was just so tired. “Thank you.”
Yasha picked him up like he weighed nothing and held him in her arms like a baby, which was actually absurdly comfortable. His eyes threatened to drift closed.
“Try not to fall asleep,” Caduceus cautioned.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Essek replied drowsily.
When he woke, or perhaps came to, he was rather unceremoniously slung across Yasha’s shoulder and tiny ice particles were mercilessly whipping into his face in the blowing wind.
“This should be fine!” a gruff voice he didn’t recognise shouted over the gale.
There was a moment of activity during which he tried to wriggle around so he could see what was happening, but Yasha’s grip on his legs was too tight and she didn’t even seem to notice he was awake. Then she stepped forward, and the snowstorm changed abruptly into a warm, golden light.
“Oh, hey, Essek’s awake,” said Beauregard somewhere to his right.
Yasha finally released her death-grip and somewhat awkwardly placed him on his feet.
“Welcome,” said Caleb quietly, addressing for him for the first time since they had found him, “to the Nein-Sided Tower.”
“Widogast’s Nascent Nein-Sided Tower,” Veth corrected. “You have good branding, you should use it.”