Chapter 19: Promises in the Dark
Ignis halted abruptly, suspicion and distrust etched into her face. Her eyes narrowed as she questioned, "Why would she do that?"
Oswin shrugged, his tone indifferent. "I dunno. She asked me some questions, and I told her I couldn't trust someone I can't even see. Then... this happened."
His voice was casual, almost detached, but underneath that calmness lingered disbelief. Really, his life was a mess first, he was transmigrated into a world crawling with twisted abominations, and then captured by one, destined to be used as a lab rat. It was too much to believe. Part of him still questioned if this was some kind of nightmare a twisted, never-ending dream. But the pain was real. The burns on his skin, the ache in his bones, the taste of blood still sharp on his tongue they were undeniable.
Maybe if it had all happened gradually, he could've processed it better. But everything had hit him all at once, like a relentless, suffocating wave. There wasn't time to think, to breathe, to even consider what the hell was going on. His reality had shattered, leaving him scrambling to survive in the fragments.
But he couldn't afford to lose himself now. Not when Aria was waiting. Not when survival was his only option.
Ignis noticed the hollow detachment in his voice. Her training in the Combat and Investigation Unit had sharpened her understanding of human psychology how to read between words, how to exploit the fractures in a person's defenses. She saw an opportunity to probe deeper, to use the cracks in his composure to gather information. But not now. Trust was a fragile thing, and she needed him to be comfortable with her first.
They continued walking, the silence between them heavy but unbroken. The flickering light from Ignis's hand danced across the cavern walls, casting long, shifting shadows.
Before long, they reached Aria.
Aria's face lit up the moment she saw Oswin. Relief flooded her features, and tears welled up not from pain, but from overwhelming relief. She had heard the echoes of the fight the thundering impacts and strained grunts that traveled far through the silent, suffocating cavern. Each sound had twisted her heart, fearing the worst.
She rarely cried, not even when two unnatural limbs had painfully sprouted from her shoulders, not when they had rushed through the hordes of moss covered moving corpses with no direction. But now, seeing Oswin battered, bruised, but alive something inside her broke.
Without hesitation, she rushed forward and hugged him tightly. Her arms wrapped around him with a desperation that bordered on painful. The tears fell freely onto the blood pool below leaving a trail on her blood stained face, but her cries were not the sharp, uncontrolled sobs of a person who could scream. Instead, they were strangled, breathy gasps whimpers strained from her throat. Her defective vocal cords denied her the release of a scream, leaving her voice to crack and stutter in silence.
Oswin stiffened for a moment, the burning ache of his wounds protesting against her embrace, but he didn't pull away. The realization that someone cared for him that his survival mattered to someone settled heavily on his mind. Even if what Aria cared for wasn't truly him, but the person his body once belonged to, it was still a form of comfort. A twisted, misplaced comfort, perhaps, but he took it. It was easier than facing the lonely truth that he was a stranger in someone else's life, a ghost wearing another's skin.
A few steps away, Ignis watched in silence. Her gaze lingered on the display a tangled mess of vulnerability, fear, and fragile hope. To her, it was another crack in Oswin's defenses a weakness she could exploit if needed. She said nothing, her eyes thoughtful yet unreadable, the flickering light of her flames casting restless shadows on the walls.
Time passed, the tension in the cavern gradually settling into a weary silence. Ignis's hand no longer burned with flames; instead, she had set a nearby stalagmite alight, crafting a makeshift torch. The flickering light danced over the blood-slicked walls, casting shifting shadows across their faces.
The three of them sat in the shallow blood pool leaning against sturdier stalagmites, their bodies heavy with exhaustion liquid blood sticking to their bodies. Aria had curled up close to Oswin, her breathing steadying after her silent tears.
Oswin broke the silence, his voice strained yet measured. "Do you think there could be more people from the church down here? If there are... maybe we stand a better chance. Strength in numbers, right?"
Ignis's gaze lingered on the fire for a moment before she answered, her tone cold and detached. "They could be," she replied curtly. "But if they are, they're likely scattered... or dead."
A heavy silence settled between them, the only sounds being the faint crackle of the fire and the quiet, echoing drips from the cavern ceiling. Just as Oswin began to think the conversation had ended, Ignis spoke again, her voice sharp and probing.
"You know a lot of things a civilian shouldn't. How?"
"I found a violin and two books in my late father's safe," he began slowly. "I... I was curious, so I started reading them. They had notes about songs and hymns. Basic stuff, really. I tried to understand them on my own, managed to figure out a few simple water hymns. It's not like I could do much with it."
Ignis considered his words, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly. The explanation seemed to add up, aligning with the fractured, vulnerable picture Oswin had painted of himself.
"If your father had those," she finally remarked, her tone less accusatory, "they were probably either bought from the black market or looted from an unregistered bard. The church is strict about hymn knowledge especially for civilians."
Silence hung between them, the air thick with unspoken thoughts. The fire's light flickered, casting shifting shadows on the cavern walls. Oswin hesitated, his gaze fixed on the flames before finally speaking, his voice low yet earnest.
"Could you... could you tell me more about the hymns? I promise I won't use the knowledge to harm anyone. And if we escape... I'll join the church as what you call a Bard." Oswin said, his voice steady yet uncertain.
His words hung there, vulnerable and uncertain. It felt like a desperate plea, a thin thread of hope in the suffocating darkness.
Would she see this as a manipulation or a genuine request? Would she give him a chance to learn, or would she see it as a threat? These questions twisted through Oswin's mind, tangled and gnawing. He knew how fragile this moment was how quickly it could shift. Ignis wasn't someone easily swayed by words, and he wasn't sure if he had gained even a sliver of her trust.
Ignis's eyes narrowed slightly, skepticism flickering across her face. The request wasn't a simple one hymns were more than just melodies; they were weapons, sacred tools of the church wielded with purpose and precision. Sharing that knowledge wasn't a decision made lightly.
"That's a big promise," she replied slowly. "Becoming a church recognized Bard isn't just about knowing a few hymns. It's a commitment discipline, control, responsibility. In the wrong hands, it can be disastrous."
Oswin's throat tightened, but he met her gaze without wavering. "I understand. But if learning can help us survive here... I don't want to be helpless anymore."
Ignis looked at him for a long moment, weighing his sincerity. In this twisted place, survival was a fragile thing. Having another person who could fight back could make all the difference. But giving away that kind of power was a risk.
"I'll think about it," she finally said, her tone guarded but not dismissive. "If you can prove that you won't be reckless that you can handle the responsibility then maybe I'll share what I know."
Her answer lingered in the air a possibility tempered by caution.
Ignis took her time, the crackling of the makeshift torch the only sound between them. Teaching hymns wasn't something to be taken lightly; the church guarded that knowledge fiercely, If she decided to share anything, it wouldn't just be a gesture of trust, it would be a gamble.
But there was a practical side to it as well. If Oswin could learn even the basics it meant another person who could fight. Someone who could help navigate the dangers of this place, someone who wouldn't just be dead weight. In their current situation, every bit of strength mattered and despite his flaws and despite his flaws, Oswin didn't seem like a person with bad intentions.
Finally, she spoke again, her voice measured. "It's not something I can just teach carelessly. But... if we're stuck here together, it wouldn't hurt for you to know a few things. Just enough to survive. Understand?"