Dungeon 42

Partial Family Reunion

Chapter 45

Selton was a small place, a hundred souls or so, though no one bothered keeping track. It didn’t matter much how many mouths a house had, just how many hands were working. That was how the Earl managed things. Only those earning paid taxes. Everyone was put on the official roster when they were born, and their deaths were marked accordingly, but that was village heads' math to do.

Elim hadn’t seen it for nearly a year and felt an elated sort of sorrow at how little had changed. It wasn’t home, not really, but it was as close as a place could be. His home was in his people, his parents, daughter, and wife.

“Elim? Good to see you, lad,” someone called. Elim waved but didn’t stop. No one expected him to. They all knew his mother wasn’t doing well. That he was back from soldiering early meant they’d likely all be invited round for a funeral soon.

For a moment, as Elim came to the split in the road that led east and west of the village, he hesitated. When he’d left, it had been for a good reason, but it hadn’t taken him more than ten paces from home to start missing Bess, his little girl, and all her blond curls. He wanted to go and see her first, if only for a few minutes.

Instead, he rode on to the little farmstead where his mother waited. He knew she was alive, though not well, thanks to 42 and her strange magic. Seeing his mother left him with a knot in his chest. He had potions with him, magic of a kind the poor couldn’t even afford to dream of owning. Yet, despite that, he felt scared.

If they didn’t work or couldn’t do enough, then all would be lost. The final impossible hope shattered, and he didn’t know how he would face his daughter after. Her mother had died less than a year after she was born. Her grandmother was the only one she knew.

“Ma?” Elim called out as he entered the house. It was small, a single room and a loft. He didn’t need to search to find his mother, Jessica, asleep on the bed in the little alcove. She looked wane, veins horribly visible and breathing ragged.

Elim had to take a few moments to collect himself, to force back tears. She’d withered in the time he was away, looking painfully thin. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he patted her back softly, the pats rising in intensity gently, just how she’d always woken him up as a child.

“Hey now, let's see those eyes,” Elim said playfully when she started to rouse. Blurry blue eyes regarded him with a dim curiosity before recognition flared. Jessica smiled but didn't say anything.

“Here, have a drink. It might make you feel better,” Elim added, helping her sit up. A small bottle of amber liquid appeared in his hand, and he got her to drink it with a bit of effort. Once that was drunk and set aside, another appeared, this time violet in color.

The first was doing its work, and the discoloration of Jessica’s veins was fading. When the violet one was finished, a green one appeared, followed by red and something blue. Elim didn’t know precisely what each of them did, but he remembered what 42 had told him. The system would provide him potions until his mother’s condition was healed.

The blue was the last potion and one slightly familiar, a hydration one like he’d drunk in the dungeon. Once his mother consumed that one, she started to look slightly better. Her skin smoothing and plumping somewhat, so she looked less ravaged by the disease.

Elim waited, wondering if the process had worked when suddenly she turned and started retching. A vile mess in a putrid shade of creme and pink poured out.

“Ma!” Elim shouted in a panic, wondering if he’d been tricked. If 42 could be so malignant and bored as to give him hope that he would ply his own mother with poison. The retching stopped, but she kept coughing, wet heaves full of something grey and rancid. Blood followed as her teeth fell out.

Elim held on to her, eyes riveted open in panic as he could do nothing but hold her. He didn’t have the presence of mind to even curse himself or 42 for treachery. His mother let out a scream but seemed to gain energy rather than lose it and sat up.

“Thrice benighted-” Jessica moaned, spitting out red, “Water!”

Elim wasn’t sure how his mother could speak after throwing up what looked like her own guts, but he grabbed the cup from the tableside. Jessica was usually a tidy woman, but just then, she rinsed her mouth and spat viciously on the floor.

“What was all that!?” Jessica demanded, wiping her mouth. Elim was shocked. Stained pink was a row of neat teeth that looked like a light shade. Even the one she’d lost when he was a lad was in place.

“How do you feel?” Elim asked. Jessica looked far more lively now, awake instead of caught on the nearer side of death. Still skinny, but a far cry from how terrible she’d looked moments before.

“Like I just gave birth out my mouth,” Jessica said bitterly before rinsing again.

“Aside from that,” Elim asked urgently.

“Fine… That shouldn’t be right, though. I was-” Jessica looked down at her arms. They were pale but otherwise healthy, the veins only a normal level of visibility. Confused, she gave her arm a vicious pinch, only to yelp.

“I know, it doesn't seem real,” Elim agreed gently, giving her a hug. He’d pinched himself a few times on the journey back.

“Elim, how is this possible? You shouldn’t be here and that… you didn’t rob a temple, did you?” Jessica asked in a hushed tone. As if afraid they’d be overheard in their own home.

“Nothing like that, Ma, I swear it. Did you get my letter?” Elim asked. Jessica nodded in reply, gesturing to the chest next to the bed where what could pass for the family valuables were stored. It was where she kept all letters the family received.

“The lady who helped me is very wise in medicine. She agreed to give me things to try and help you, which those bottles were full of. In return, I’m going to resign my commission and work for her. She doesn't like to leave her home, so she needs someone to travel on her behalf,” Elim explained, lying as little as he could manage. The potion bottles were beautiful little things. Works of art he wasn’t sure even a noble could afford, to say nothing of the contents.

“She’s also some kind of magic… She told me you were still alive, if ill, as well as Bess, being fine. She could see our family and its lineage. She knew Castor Grey was my father,” Elim continued. It was a matter that likely could wait, but he couldn’t help wanting to tell her.

“You told her about that?” Jessica asked, plainly shocked.

“I never spoke a word of it. Instead, she asked me about relatives I didn’t know, and when I asked how I was related to them, she used Da’s name,” Elim explained. Jessica oscillated between fear and anger for a few moments before sighing and laying back down.

“Gods, I want that to be true,” She said finally.

“I think it is. The lady gains nothing by confirming it,” Elim said gently, patting his mother on the arm.

“You say she’s some of kind of magic, but to have healed, if not cured me… What kind of trouble have you got yourself into? Are you indentured or something worse?” Jessica asked bluntly.

“Nothing of the sort, I’m employed by her. She pays well too, as absurd as it sounds,” Elim said with a chuckle.

“You said you're going to resign your commission. How long before you have to go?” Jessica asked, moving on to practical concerns.

“I was separated from my unit, but I sent word already. I got permission to report after the new year, so I’ll be home for it,” Elim said and smiled cheerfully. It was an important family holiday, but he’d given up on getting to see it so long as he was a soldier.

“Well, then we need to get started! That means cleaning up and gathering firewood,” Jessica said matter-of-factly. With new energy, she sat up and scooted around her son until she was seated on the edge of the bed. Her body felt lighter than it had in years and stronger than she was accustomed to.

Unfortunately, it did nothing for the scent of her after being bedridden for weeks on end. There was also the putrid mess on the floor to contend with.

“I’ll get Bess-” Elim started but was stopped by a glare.

“Lad, you can get her when the house is ready. No sense having her come home to a cold and filthy shack when she could be comfortable at the Gallens for a few more hours,” Jessica said sternly.

“Ma-” Elim started to protest, only to be cut off by a gentle pat.

“I know, but this place reeks of sickness. It’s not fit, and I still look a fright myself,” Jessica said more gently than before. Reluctantly Elim nodded, knowing she had a point, even if he didn’t like it.

“Good lad, you know where the ax is,” Jessica said with a smile while Elim groaned theatrically. He didn’t mind chores, but cutting wood definitely wasn’t one of his favorites. Moreover, the local trees were a hard variety that made the activity a particular nuisance.

Alone, Jessica took a few minutes to put a kettle on and drag out the bathing tub. They didn’t have the luxury of a mirror, but she could tell by feel her body was different. Her face no longer hollow, her muscles less leaden, her breathing no longer pained.

While the water heating, she got out some rags and saw to the mess on the floor. It smelled something awful, but that was just an incentive to get it out of the house all the faster. That her hair started falling out in the middle was disconcerting. She sat back on her heels, looking at the blond with streaks of ash, but didn’t cry out or shed tears.

If the worst thing that happened was she ended up bald in exchange for a healthy body, then it was an inconsequential price to pay. Really, it saved her the trouble of having to cut out or suffer through detangling the mats that had formed during her convalescence.

Gallen had checked in on her most mornings, but the man could only do so much. He was older than Jessica, and they’d tried to be careful so he wouldn’t get sick too. Unfortunately, that meant leaving necessities outside the door rather than more personal care.

As steam began to rise out of the kettle, Jessica got out a scoop of sand and poured it on the wet spot left after scraping the horror up. There was still a bit of a smell, but it was much improved and hopefully would lighten as the stain dried fully.

A whistle let Jessica know the hot water was ready. Dragging the bath outside, she filled it a quarter full from the rain barrel but didn’t add hot water yet. She’d grown up in finer circumstances and, out of habit, washed her face first with the cold water. Her mother had sworn by it being good for the skin.

As she lightly lathered, she found her eyelashes and eyebrows falling away but only sighed. Of course, she’d look a sight when next she went to the village market, but that wasn’t worth worrying about.

After she added enough hot water to tip the temperature to acceptable. She refilled the kettle and put it back on the fire before stepping in. Scrubbing herself thoroughly, she found a new horror awaited her.

The more she washed, the more filth came off. Her skin seemed to turn to mush and come away in gooey swaths. Frantic, she scrubbed more instead of stopping. It took three separate baths to finally end with nothing worse than soap in the water. By the end of it, she felt tired and wrung out.

Jessica tentatively ran a hand over her face and scalp. She felt eyebrows, lashes, and a delicate blanket of hair on top of her head. From the beginning, the fact she’d recovered from blue veins had been miraculous enough on its own.

Now the lightness and strength of her body, her regrowing hair, all of it was beyond miraculous. Or at least the kind of miraculous that could be afforded by peasants.

Elim had said he’d made a deal with some kind of magician, but Jessica couldn’t help shedding a few tears for her idiot son. He’d obviously made a deal with something much more dangerous, but there was nothing to be done now. The deal had been struck, and she’d drunk the medicine.