Chapter 17: Sheep
Caro's voice carried an eerie fascination, smooth yet laced with an unsettling weight. "Fascinating," she mused again, her gaze lingering on Oswin as if he were a particularly rare specimen under a magnifying glass.
"It seems the soul of Fray was destroyed, and yours was transported to take its place," she continued, tilting her head slightly. "Your memories are intact, save for the fragments of Fray's past—only the most crucial ones remain. That alone is remarkable. But even more astonishing is the ritual itself. To achieve such a feat… It would take the combined efforts of several Great Grandmasters-level musicians, all working in harmony, performing something on a scale beyond anything I thought possible."
She let out a soft chuckle, as if relishing the thought. "I didn't even know there were that many Great Grandmasters in existence. Truly fascinating."
Oswin remained silent, his muscles tense beneath the thick liquid. Every word she spoke sent a new wave of unease crawling down his spine.
"But that begs the question…" Caro's gaze sharpened, her tone shifting from amused curiosity to something colder. "Why? Why did they bring you here of all people?"
Her words hung in the air like a blade, yet after a brief pause, she let out a dismissive sigh. "Ah… no matter. In the end, it changes little."
She took a step forward, the liquid rippling around her as she closed the distance between them. Then, with a smile both serene and predatory, she spoke:
"From now on, you are my subject. My sheep."
Oswin's throat tightened. There was something absolute in the way she said it—as if she were merely stating a natural law, an undeniable truth that no resistance could overturn.
His heart pounded. He knew, with every fiber of his being, that this was a turning point. Whatever happened next would determine everything.
Caro rose to her feet, the thick liquid clinging to her body, veiling the lower half of her form like living fabric. She moved toward Oswin with slow, deliberate steps, the surface of the pool rippling in her wake.
Reaching down, she lifted his chin with delicate fingers, her touch unnervingly soft. The slickness of the liquid coating her skin brushed against his face, cold and unnatural.
"It's not every day I find a subject shaped by the hands of Great Grandmasters." she mused, her voice carrying an eerie amusement. "But if they truly cared for you, they would not have allowed you to be captured by me… of all fiends."
Oswin's breath hitched. His body tensed under her touch, fear rooting him in place. Then, from her fingertips, a droplet of liquid slipped free, falling onto his lips.
The taste hit him instantly—coppery, unmistakable. Blood.
His stomach churned. He knew this taste too well. Back in prison, after fists had collided with his face, after beatings that left his mouth torn and bleeding. This was no different. No, it was worse.
Caro's gaze bore into him, unreadable yet heavy with intent. Her lips curled into something that wasn't quite a smile.
"Cooperate with me," she said, her tone smooth yet edged with quiet menace, "and the girl survives." She tilted his chin slightly, holding him in place. "Resist… and the pain you endure will only grow."
Caro's grip on Oswin's chin tightened, forcing his head to turn toward Aria's unconscious form. The dark, lifeless cavern swallowed her fragile figure—her body slumped against the stalagmite, motionless.
Then, Caro hummed.
The melody was similar to the one she had sung before, the one that had rewritten Oswin's sight, but this time, its purpose was far crueler.
Aria jolted awake with a strangled gasp. Her body convulsed, her back arching as if an unseen force had seized control of her very being. Then, with a sickening crack, two additional arms burst from her shoulders, twisting unnaturally as they clawed at the air.
Oswin's breath caught in his throat. He could see everything in the darkness—the way the grotesque limbs twitched, their movements foreign and wrong. He wanted to move, to fight, to do something—but he was powerless.
The extra hands shot down, seizing Aria's head in a brutal grip. One twist. That was all it would take.
Aria trembled, gasping in confusion and agony. She could not see. The darkness was absolute for her, unfamiliar and suffocating. She was naked, submerged in a shallow pool of dense, metallic-scented liquid, and now something—someone—had taken control of her body.
Terror flooded Oswin. His breath came in ragged gasps, his mind screaming for a way out. He had nothing. No power. No options. Just fear.
His voice broke as he stuttered, his entire body trembling. "I—I'll comply! Please! Spare her!"
Caro hummed another note, and instantly, the extra arms shrank, folding into Aria's body as if they had never existed. She crumpled forward, her entire form wracked with pain, but she was alive.
Caro's fingers slid away from Oswin's face, leaving behind a phantom chill. Her expression remained unreadable, but her next words carried an air of amusement.
"Interesting," she mused. "Even though she is not your sister… you still care for her."
"Perhaps… due to the lingering effects of Fray's memories," Caro mused, her tone carrying a trace of curiosity. Then, without another word, she turned away, her movements fluid and deliberate.
"Lay here for a few more hours," she ordered, her voice indifferent as she turned away. "The blood is my creation—it will restore your body to its peak condition. You'll be easier to experiment on that way."
As Caro's form faded into the darkness, her naked body vanishing into the vast horizon of the cavern, Oswin was left in the eerie stillness of the blood-soaked chamber. His breath was ragged, his body tense, but the moment he saw Aria trembling, pain still wracking her form, he forgot everything else.
He rushed toward her, his bare feet splashing through the thick, warm liquid. The metallic scent of blood clung to him, but he paid it no mind. Dropping to his knees beside her, he pulled her into his arms.
Aria's body was cold despite the heat of the blood surrounding them. She flinched at his touch at first, her breathing uneven, her hands weakly gripping his arm as though trying to anchor herself.
"It's over," Oswin murmured, holding her close. "It's over… I'm here."
She was still trembling, but his voice—though unsteady—offered some comfort. Slowly, her body relaxed against him, her shallow breaths evening out.
Oswin exhaled, resting his forehead against hers for a brief moment before shifting them both against a nearby stalagmite. He sat beside her, leaning on a stalagmite for support.
As Aria's breathing steadied, he began speaking. He told her about Caro—the deal he had made, the terrifying power she wielded, and the truth about the blood-filled pool they sat in. He explained that Caro had no intention of killing them, at least for now, and that their survival depended on playing along.
He left out the most crucial detail—the truth about himself. About how he was not the original Fray, but an outsider inhabiting this body. That was a burden she didn't need to bear.
Aria remained silent as he spoke, her fingers curling slightly against her arms. Whether she was too exhausted to respond or simply processing the horrors of what had just happened, Oswin wasn't sure.
For now, it didn't matter.
They were alive. And that was enough.
As Oswin sat beside Aria, rethinking his new life decisions—the destruction of the city, the uncertainty of his future, and the grim bargain he had struck with Caro—his thoughts weighed heavy on his mind.
Then, a sound broke through the silence.
A sharp, deliberate splashing—repeated, purposeful. Someone was striking the surface of the thick liquid, as if trying to call for help.
Oswin's body tensed. Was someone else here?
He moved to stand, but before he could take a step, a weak hand grasped his wrist.
Aria.
Even in her pain, she held onto him, her fingers trembling yet firm. Her breathing was ragged, her body still weak from whatever Caro had done to her, but she refused to let go.
Oswin met her gaze—clouded, uncertain.
"It's fine," he assured her, his voice steady. "I can see in the dark."
Slowly, she released him, her hand falling limply to her side.
Oswin turned toward the sound, blood sloshing around his legs as he stepped forward. Someone was out there—someone calling for help. And he intended to find out who.
Oswin moved cautiously through the blood pool, his senses sharp for any danger lurking in the darkness. The thick liquid resisted his steps, each movement sending ripples through the surface.
till, he saw her.
A woman, slightly taller than Aria, stood in a battle-ready stance. Blood covered most of her unclothed body, clinging to her skin like a second layer. One of her legs struck the surface repeatedly, creating deliberate splashing noises—the source of the sound that had drawn him here.
Oswin tried to make out her features, but with the dim lighting and the blood obscuring her form, only the basics stood out. Her posture was tense, her expression unreadable. Whoever she was, she was neither panicked nor defenseless.
She knew someone was coming.
And she was ready for a fight.
She sensed Oswin's presence and demanded in a fierce tone, "Who are you? What is this place?"