Under the Oak Tree - Chapter 207
Chapter 207: Side Story Chapter 13
Pure agony jolted Riftan awake. For a while, he could not register his surroundings. He felt like a deep-sea creature fished out of water, and he gasped for air as though he had forgotten how to breathe. His entire body seemed engulfed by an inferno. He bellowed in pain.
“Please, bear it a little longer! The healing is not complete.”
The familiar voice reached through his addled mind. Looking over, he saw Ruth piecing his mangled arm back together. The grotesque sight made him pause before the pain registered afresh a split second later. The excruciating sensation of bone and flesh melting and seething over flames made him claw at the dirt with his other hand. He thrashed around to try and escape it, but something was restraining him.
His eyes dilating, Riftan looked about his surroundings. Bluish flames flickered around the dark cave, and an intricate diagram was etched into the ground. What appeared to be tree roots bound him to the cave floor.
Cold sweat streamed down his back. The whole scene looked like a ritual to summon a demon. He began to struggle harder against his restraints.
“Goddamn you! What are you trying to do to me?”
“To heal you!”
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The dark roots wound around him were close to snapping. Ruth grew alarmed and pinned his shoulders down.
“Please, stay still!” The mage’s face scrunched up as he yelled. “Permanent damage cannot be healed with conventional healing spells! Do you have any idea how much blood you lost? Maimed limbs, and even your organs sustained damage after that beast electrocuted you. Why would you keep fighting in such a state? You are clearly out of your mind.”
Riftan was about to argue back when the bone-deep pain once again racked his body. He raised his head. He could distinctly feel the broken bones of his injured arm and leg regenerating. His torn muscles swelled and congealed like mud, while his body grew so bloated it looked close to bursting.
Death would be better than this unbearable pain.
His chest heaving, Riftan cried out, “Stop… Stop it!”
“Hell’s breath, you woke up too early. There’s still a while to go before you’re fully healed.”
Riftan was aghast. Though he wanted to threaten the mage’s life to get him to stop, the only thing that escaped his lips was painful moaning. He gritted his teeth. He had been through all sorts of hardships after leaving home, but this kind of agony was a first. Unable to endure any longer, he was about to bite his tongue when Ruth grabbed his head to stop him.
“No! You must bear it!”
Riftan glared at the mage with bloodshot eyes.
Ruth anxiously bit his lip for a moment before appearing to come to a decision. “I will cast an illusion spell to help you forget the pain. Um… try to recall a fun or happy memory.”
Riftan leveled a dispirited look at the mage before bombarding him with curses. The runt was out of his mind. How on earth could he recall a happy memory in his current state?
“To induce a pleasant illusion, you must first think of a positive memory. If I cast the spell now, you’ll be in a horrific nightmare.”
“I don’t give a damn. Just do it!”
“No! It could severely traumatize your psyche. You might not wake up from it! It was originally designed to confuse the enemy, so…”
“God- Goddammit! Then just let me die!”
Thrashing his head and limbs, Riftan tried to free himself from the pain. Ruth did his best to calm him down.
“Anything will do! Just… think of a happy or joyful moment. Hold it in your mind’s eye. It will take away the pain!”
Clawing at the ground, Riftan moaned. He could do it. He had to escape this agony. Repeating the words in his head, he desperately ransacked his addled mind.
A happy memory.
A joyful moment.
Depressingly, he came up blank. It was almost laughable that he could not recall a single occasion. His mind only offered up bleak flashes – his mother hanging from the beam, his stepfather crying silently in the dark, gut-wrenching hunger, the stench rolling off mounds of filth, the horrible sensation of the first time he had stabbed a man, and countless near-death experiences.
All of a sudden, laughter spilled out of him. It was absurd. Had he never experienced joy in his life? The deranged smile that lit his face vanished a second later when something sprang to mind.
“Th-The girl…”
Catching Riftan’s mumbling, the mage repeated, “The girl?”
Riftan struggled to form the words. “There was a girl. I-I saved her-”
The pain suddenly intensified, and he began to writhe and bash his head on the cave floor. Realizing he had lost all self-control, Ruth hastily tried to restrain him.
“Tell me more! Was saving this girl a happy memory for you?”
“I… s-saved her… so she gave me a wreath.”
“Try drawing her in your mind, in detail.”
Clinging on with the last of his strength, Riftan combed his memories for the girl. He saw wavy, cloud-like hair, eyes twinkling silver in the sunlight, and tiny, slumped shoulders.
Soon, a pale light blinded him. The excruciating pain tearing at his nerves grew faint. He floundered, unable to handle the sudden shift in his senses. It felt like he was levitating before landing somewhere soft. A white mist enveloped him.
He waded through his foggy subconscious. Before long, his vision cleared, and a familiar setting unfolded before him. He blinked. The little girl sat making a wreath in a lush garden bursting with colorful flowers. A gentle breeze tugged at her hair, and the black hound lounging on its stomach next to her gave a languid yawn.
Riftan stood transfixed by the tranquil scene. When the girl placed the wreath on the dog’s head, it wagged its shaggy tail and licked her cheek. Her youthful giggles gently resounded in his ears.
Such an ordinary memory…
The petals he had once scattered to the wind rode the breeze and tickled his cheek. His chest swelled with an emotion he could not express. Had watching her been his only solace? Was this trifling memory the sole light in his existence?
Shuddering, Riftan put his head in his hands. The illusion proved just how bleak his life was. The girl who had seemed to share his loneliness had been his only source of comfort.
Riftan slowly blinked. A petal clung to his wet cheek. His small paradise, enveloped in pale gold light, seemed to offer a sunny smile. Unable to look away, Riftan stood in his memories for a very long time.
***
His body felt weighed down, like cotton soaked in water. He blinked listlessly. Something moved off to the side, and he looked over to see Ruth lighting a small fire near the cave’s entrance. As if sensing Riftan’s gaze, the mage turned to meet it with a relieved sigh.
“You’re awake.”
Riftan silently stared at Ruth’s blood-spattered face before slowly sitting up. Though the brisk evening breeze lashed at his bare torso, he did not feel cold. He tried moving his magically healed limbs before looking around. They were in the same narrow cave where they had taken shelter from the rain, but the ground was now covered in intricate diagrams that Riftan assumed were runes.
As he silently assessed them, he abruptly paused to feel his chest. Both the large and small scars that had marred his body were gone. Not only that, but some internal part of him felt out of place.
The moment he registered the oddity, Riftan grabbed Ruth by the collar and shoved him against the cave wall. Taken by surprise, Ruth coughed.
Riftan pinned the mage with even more force and growled, “What did you do to me?”
“W-What are you doing? I healed-”
“Do you think me a fool? That was no healing spell. You bastard… Are you a dark mage?”
Ruth looked perturbed.
Riftan said through clenched teeth, “The church may not wield as much influence as it once did, but you will be branded a pariah in every kingdom in this land if you are caught using dark magic. Even your bones will be destroyed when you die!”
“I’m not a dark mage!” Ruth cried, aggrieved. “It may seem like dangerous magic, but I assure you, it doesn’t go against any doctrine!”
Riftan could only direct a dubious glare at him in response. Ruth floundered as he attempted to free himself from Riftan’s grip.
“Good grief!” Ruth said. “I drained my mana to save your life, and this is how you thank me? What astounding ingratitude! You would be dead by now if it weren’t for my magic!”
“I’d rather that than turn into some wandering undead!”
“I told you!” Ruth yelled, his face flushing. “I am not a dark mage!”
Riftan glowered before releasing his grip. He did so with such contempt that he practically shoved the mage to the ground.
“Fine. The truth will be revealed when I hand you over to the Holy Tribunal.”
Ruth had been rubbing his neck. He now turned white with terror at Riftan’s threat.
“You’re going to hand the person who saved your life to the Holy Tribunal?!”
“Saved my life? You have the audacity to call yourself a savior after turning me into a monster?”
“I did no such thing! I did use the monster’s magic stone because my mana was insufficient, but I didn’t borrow any demonic power!”
The mage pointed to the cave’s entrance. Through the gloom, Riftan could make out a limp monster carcass.
“Theoretically, using the mana imbued in a monster’s magic stone does not go against the church’s teachings. Think about it. Don’t magical devices also use those same stones to function?”
“But the spell… it can’t possibly be sanctioned. I’ve never heard of magic that can restore a mangled body! Aren’t healing spells only supposed to be for superficial wounds? Yet you were able to fully mend injuries that were beyond recovery. Am I wrong?”
Ruth looked dismayed at Riftan’s reproach. Like a man forced into a corner, a sheen of sweat broke out on the mage’s forehead.
“Very well,” Ruth said, sighing. “I will tell you the truth. The spell I used on you is one of the forbidden magics outlawed by the Mage Tower. It is not known in the Western Continent. If the existence of this spell were to get out, we would both be in hot water because…”
The mage trailed off, grasping for the right words.
“Because it was conceived by studying the regenerative power of trolls.”
