The First Hellhound

Chapter 052: Rough Wake-up



I wake up abruptly, still reeling from the nightmare I’ve just seen. I trash around, the pictures still vivid in my mind. Azrag said that I should not fully believe everything that I saw in the dream, as it is full of inconsistencies, embellishments and anachronisms – like the Dwarves in it being already affected by their curse or whatever – but it doesn’t mean it’s any less graphic. And it all makes me sick to the stomach, as I cannot stop certain scenes from replaying before my eyes, again and again.

“Kora? You all right?” It seems I woke up Nugund; he sounds worried. “There’s still time till the dawn… do you want to cuddle?” He does not wait for my answer and wraps his arm around me and putting his chin on top of mine. I’m glad for that; the warmth of his body and the closeness itself help me calm down a bit. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I don’t know” I hesitate; he waits in silence, caressing me. “I’ve had a bad dream… but I realised it wasn’t real and escaped; unfortunately, not to the reality – I ended up in a different nightmare” I shuddered. “It felt pleasant, at first, but” I cut myself off, realizing something. “...I’m not sure if it really is my story to tell; also, just thinking about describing this… those… visions makes me so sick” I coil into the fetal position, feeling pain, physical pain, radiating from my nethers onto my whole body; it nearly makes me tear up.

“My Ember… you doesn’t look very well. Are you su-” the Volkhlun stops mid-sentence – mid-word, even – and starts sniffing around me. I look at him stupefied – but I can feel an irritation rising, drastically even, after he removes the covers from me. I want to screech at him, but his dumbfounded face gives me a pause; then he looks me straight in the eyes. “Kora… You are” he sounds shocked and panicked. “Bleeding!”

I blink, not initially getting what he says; then I look down on myself. A quiet O! escapes my mouth when I see he is correct – the blood indeed leaks out of my pussy. “Why?” I ask in daze.


I can hear some ruckus outside, waking me up from my slumber; multiple people are clearly shouting abuse at someone. Or is it hunger I feel that ended my sleep? Whatever the reason, I’m feeling marginally better than earlier. Resting helped.

When we noticed I am bleeding, Nugund reacted much more intensely than me – alas, that might have been due to my general lack of energy today. Anyway, he told me to lie still and ran for help. He returned soon, followed by an unknown woman whose apparel and lingering herbal smell made me identify her as a witch pretty easily. She gave me something to drink and told me to go back to sleep – and I complied… not that I had energy to argue.

I was slightly afraid of going back to the world of dreams and nightmares, but it turns out my worries were unfounded. I can’t recall any visions – neither good nor bad – which is, well, good in and of itself. I still feel unwell, but at least I think I can now somewhat function today.

I stretch and yawn; what time even is it? I hear the arguing folks outside and I’m gonna gonna give a piece of my mind to them for waking me up… or should I grab something to eat first? Will I even be able to swallow anything right now? I grumble as I’m rising, still undecided and moody. Then I hear someone snort to the side, immediately bringing my attention there.

To my surprise it is Olka, the teenage witch, collapsed in a corner. I take a closer look at her – and she looks dishevelled and ruffled. There’s even a drop of spit drooping slowly, making her look a bit silly; I observe it with fascination until it breaks off and falls onto my friend’s small bosom. I shake my head and slap my cheeks; focus, Kora!

“Wake up!” I call out to the Risitha and shake her. I try to be gentle.

“Wha…?!” The Lynxkin opens her eyes and blinks a few times; I can’t help but notice small veins visible on her sclera. She then yawns and rubs her face. “Kora? How are you feeling?”

“You ask me?!” I nearly shout in exasperation. “Girl, look at yourself! Your eyes’re red and your fur’s a mess! It’s like you’ve been up all night! Just… think about your health a bit, will you?” I mellow my tone at the end; I don’t want to be unnecessarily rough with her right now.

“Well, I have been up all night” she says, massaging the bridge of her nose; then she finally looks me straight in the eye. “I and others have been keeping the barrier up, since Baba Yaga is unwell after you clapped her back at the Council – but know that she deserved it! I don’t know why, how or when it happened – but whatever you did she deserved it! The… the audacity!” She gets angrier and angrier for my sake; it lifts my mood.

“But what have I done? Didn’t this Tamaran monk stop me? The old man Chief’s brother, I mean?” I ask when she stops to catch her breath. “And why would you need to be up all night as a result?”

“Eh, you did nothing wrong” she immediately dismisses my worries once more. “Everybody saw it was in self-defence, especially when the old crone began bleeding all over, starting from her ears; that made it clear she did some of her mind tricks on you” she yawns again. “Anyhow, we needed many, many people to keep the barrier up in her stead; it’s crazy how she can uphold it on her own… but then again – she was one to set it!” Olka sounds as if she was in awe at the end; it looks like her mood swings quite hard when she’s exhausted.

“But why would you be needed to do it? Aren’t there adult witches or other spellcasters who could have helped?” She sighs at my words… but it morphs into a yawn midway.

“Eh, don’t worry about it – it was my own decision; I wanted to do it” she stretches some more. “I was glad to help the tribe – not to mention I could directly shelter my family and friends from danger that way. It’s just… I didn’t know just how exhausting it would be; not that I’m the only one who was surprised.”

“I see” the Risitha continues to yawn and I take a long look at her. “Ummm… Actually, there’s something that has been bugging me and I wanted to talk to you, but… we can wait, since it is a serious topic; I can let you go back to sleep now, if you wish” the ears of my friend perk up.

“Now you intrigued me – ask your question; I’ll decide if I can answer it now or later after I hear it” I take a deep breath.

“Have you… have you heard about… Imhas… Imaz… Ih...mas?”

“Imasian thought?” Olka interrupts me as I struggle with the new, foreign name. “Yeah; what’s about it?” She frowns. “And where have you heard about it?”

I hesitate for a moment – then I summarize, briefly, my nightmare and how I escaped it, how I met Azrag there and what we talked about. I also tell her about Alchemist – and how they refuse to be called a god specifically – and how it gives a credence to the idea of impersonal deities. I confess to her my crisis of unfaith. The Lynxgirl looks… unimpressed – but that might be just from her having barely any energy left; it makes me feel a small sting of guilt.

“All right; it’s actually pretty simple in a way” she says after I finish my monologue. “As I see it, worship of impersonal gods makes even less sense compared to what most folks believe in. A being with no personality cannot be bargained with or moved on anything. And it is praying and this… laziness it brigs I’ve always had an issue with” I tilt my head.

“Laziness? What do you mean?” She throws me an exasperated glance; or maybe it is more tired one?

“You know what I mean, Kora. Just think about it! Think about all the Kin here, not only not doing anything to solve the Dragon issue – but treating the problem as it is already resolved! All because of a ‘prophecy’ that never existed and the ‘will of the gods’ that never manifested!” She shakes her head. “You are too fixated on your creator – and they aren’t always right! Remember: your last meeting was a shock to them! It’s clear they make mistakes and have gaps in their knowledge!”

I cannot help but nod along as my friend gets more worked up; it’s not like the age equates wisdom – or actual knowledge. And all I have are conjunctions… Alchemist was pretty focused on not being called a “God”, but I have no proof they are correct in any way about the topic; besides, I think that if someone like Dawkins was to be called “The God of Atheism”, it would be understandable for him to be upset and reject that mantle… although I can also see someone more droll picking it up for it’s humorously paradoxical nature.

“Thank you” I replay simply, after steeling my resolve.

Aaand I'm back! With a chapter less harrowing than the last, so I hope you'll enjoy it!

As a side note, I've injured my hand at work (was to the emergency for the first time in my life... a strange experience, would not recommend. Don't get injured at work, felas!), so writing was a bit weird this past few days; luckily with a series of that sort writing with one hand is not really a rare skill ;-P

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And as always: thanks for reading and feel free to comment, leave a favourite, rate - maybe even write a review! Peace!


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