Chapter Text
You trudge across cracked red clay, shielding your eyes from the sun that's started to set behind huge, blunt spires of layered stone along the horizon. The bands of color present in the tall slopes are almost hypnotizing in the setting sun. Everything is reds and oranges around you, swirling marks that shift slightly when your eyes waver, but that will soon turn to purples and blues, marking the stopping point of your day.
The Badlands are dangerously cold once the sun sets, so cold that you wouldn't survive the night without shelter. It's so different from your part of Elysium, which is rich with foliage; greens and blues, smatterings of pinks and yellows and oranges in fields that stretch into the horizon. The monsters are so different too, twisted shadow creatures with their only defining features being grotesque masks and aching cries.
You almost miss the days of slaying slimes and defeating boss monsters. Simpler times, before everything changed.
You walk ever forward.
Your feet hurt horribly, throat dry as sun-bleached bone. You ran out of water earlier in the day, waterskin hanging uselessly by your side. The skies have wispy candyfloss clouds but they're nowhere near raining levels. There isn't a sign of life anywhere in your line of sight.
Just you and long stretches of clay and sediment for days on end.
The Corruption Beasts the Badlands are known for haven't really given you much trouble. Small, pathetic creatures that strike at you from shadows in rocks. Some bigger; twisting, writhing bodies that grab at you and shoot volleys of dark arrows that look like they're made from obsidian. Nothing a little of your magic can't handle and a timely side-step here and there.
Maybe that's why you let your guard down trying to scope an area to set up camp. Maybe it's because of the darkness settling down around you, obscuring their forms. Or, possibly, you were just too delirious from sun poisoning.
Either way, you're slammed to the ground, massive glistening talons holding you to the earth, locked around you like a cage. You try to scream but your voice cracks and only a wheeze is forced from your lungs. It applies pressure, your ribs ache, and a mask teeters into view.
You stare back into its soulless face, almost five hands wide and tall, its body shuddering as it shifts above you. It releases these sickly sounds, screeching cries of birds, stuttering whinnies of an injured horse, with deep bellows vibrating underneath. Like thousands of animals suffering in a cacophony of a monster's cry.
You whip spells from your hands, exerting as much mana as you have left to move the beast but it only crushes down deeper on you.
This is it, isn't it?
You'd become another one of those haunting moans in the chorus soon enough. You can feel a rib crack against the pressure, exhaling sharply as pain floods your system.
"There you are, you slippery bastard!" Laughter echoes across the area, rough and husky. The weight over you is thrown off, the creature stumbling away. You pick your head up, confused, disoriented, but you see him clear as day.
A man towers over you just a yard ahead, posed protectively between your prone form and the beast. His massive red coat crinkles and swishes as he shifts from foot to foot, his gleeful giggling alerting you to his excitement. He looks back at you, his masked face obscuring his eyes, and turns back in time to lift his great axe and slice clean through the massive creature.
Each side of the Corruption Beast slams opposite ways into the ground, throwing up dust clouds that obscure your view of it.
You try to get up but shudder at your cracked rib. Your mana pool is dangerously low, too much so to risk healing yourself now.
The man stands at the ready as the dust settles. After a breath he relaxes and retrieves the mask of the fallen beast, strapping it to his wide back. He turns to you, leaning the handle of his giant axe against his shoulder. He steps up, tilting his head as he looks you down.
You struggle to get up, shuddering breath hard to keep steady. Your heart is hammering in your ears and you move into a crouch before he gets to you. You reach for him, foolishly assuming he'll help you up, but are surprised by the tight grip he forces around your wrist.
"Little bug lost her way?" He grins and yanks, pulling you up to your feet and then some. You grab onto his arm as he dangles you before him, clawing at the cuff wrapped around his wrist. You wince, biting your teeth hard before you start to thrash. It hurts.
"Hey, hey, relax!" His tone softens momentarily before he grits out, "You won't survive the night, I'm taking you home!"
"Let go!" You croak but it just makes him laugh harder.
He drags you along despite your thrashing, quite easily so, before he stops before a rock. You pause, staring as he kicks aside a sand covered tarp to reveal a trap door built into the ground. He opens it and pushes you towards it.
You look at him wearily to which he looks back with a sharp smile.
"You wanna die out in the cold?"
He's right, the chill starting to set into your ragged muscles reminds you just how dangerous it is out there.
The boys were right, loathe as you are to admit, you think as you start to descend down the ladder. It's too dangerous to go alone… You shouldn't have gone alone . When they find out that you snuck out of the guild to do just that they'll… You don't want to entertain the thought.
You find yourself in a tunnel carved into earth and stone, lit by flickering lamps that look powered by electricity versus magic. There's a thud above you and then steps as the man descends down the ladder. His axe is strapped to his back alongside his prize, taking up so much room you wonder how he got through the trap door.
You watch carefully as he steps to your side and gestures for you to keep going. "There's only one way this tunnel goes, so get walkin'!"
You abide and does as he says. The both of you walk in silence for a long while, uncomfortable in the dim light. He's helping you, yes, but you can't shake the feeling that you're walking into a wolves den by following this path.
"What do you want from me?" You ask abruptly as he follows behind you.
He snickers, "What makes you think I want anything?"
You give him a withering look. The people in the Badlands were not there for pleasure or leisure. They were there for bounties, for glory, for darker dealings best left outside the ring of Utopia. It wasn't easy here and the inhabitants reflected that.
You certainly can see it in his big frame and the myriad of scars that cross over his exposed chest.
"If you're going to stare, at least learn my name." He cackles at his own joke but you look away, back forward and away from him.
When you don't respond, he continues with, "You can call me Ruze. My official title is Ruze the Red or Crimzon Ruze but… for you? You can just call me Ruze, little bug."
You don't respond. Along a bend in the tunnel you see a large door at the end, causing your heart to sink. Anything could be behind those doors. You swallow as he instructs you to head inside.
"Don't worry, they don't bite… much!" He says with a laugh and kicks the door open for you. He grabs your arm and pulls you through.
You step into a fully constructed basement that's littered with various piles of junk. Large barrels and boxes placed almost at random, forcing you and Ruze to shimmy your way through to get to the stairway.
You bump into the edge of a crate and your rib is agitated, causing you to hold onto the spot and wince. You suck in some air, trying with all your might to keep it hidden from him but Ruze pauses and turns to you.
"You're injured." Told as a statement, not a question.
"Broken rib." You respond, feeling the pain radiating through your side ebb, "Nothing lethal, I'll be able to handle it later."
He watches for a moment before nodding, motioning for you to follow. Up the stairs you find a tavern, devoid of anyone around. You look around curiously as Ruze calls out for his buddies.
"Guys! Anyone around?" He listens intently before he shrugs, "Eh, they must be home. Fine by me."
He stomps more than steps over to the bar counter and loops to the back, pulling out a tall beer glass. You wearily look at him but instead he pulls out the hose and tops the cup off with water.
You subconsciously step towards it, everything in your body aching to have a taste.
He holds up a finger, wagging it at you, "Listen here, okay. I'm giving this to you but you are not allowed to gulp it down, hear me?"
"Why?" You ask, parched beyond care, and he laughs at you while shaking his head.
"You wanna just throw it back up?" He sneers, "Sip it, slowly. Otherwise it'll just sit uselessly in your gut."
You approach and take the glass with both hands. Shaking, you slowly sip at the water, fighting the needling desire to drink it all down immediately. It's cool and clean, soothing your mouth and you feel the starts of getting better.
"Thank you." You murmured, more into the water pooled near your lips than to him.
Ruze loops back around, pulling his axe from his back, before he sits at one of the high stools. He looks at you expectantly.
"May I help you?" You ask, licking your lips as you look from the glass to him.
Ruze shrugs. He has on that mask, cracked on one side where a violet eye peers out to you. His smile holds strong as he replies, "Just wondering what a woman like you is doing out here in the Badlands."
"What do you mean by 'like me?'" Your eye twitches.
He laughs, boisterous and without restraint. "Look here, little bug. I can smell the Utopian upper class society aaall over you. Plus, you're out in the Badlands with that measly waterskin? Plus the equipment you had to set up camp… surprised you made it this far frankly!"
He leans over to get closer to you, violet eyes gleaming from the shadows of his mask. "What would drive a lady like you to a place like this?"
You can't hide your expression, lip curled in a snarl. "Don't pretend like you know me." You shift to face him fully and despite him sitting and you standing, you both come eye to eye.
"Then tell me, so I know." His tone isn't nearly as playful as it was before, instead edging into intense and serious. He stares you down, eyes held tight onto your gaze.
You hold it. You know this game. "I'm researching how to reverse the corruption out here."
You think of your guild, to Hakka, and to the others marred by corruption. You would do anything to help them, save them…
He doesn't respond for a moment, eyes laser focused. But then he eases back and relaxes, smiling at you in a way that doesn't entirely read as content. "Ah, a scientist sort then."
"I'm a mage." You divulge, taking another drink from the glass. You don't dare tell him of your connection with the royalty in Utopia.
"Well, there's a few things you need to learn if you're going to stay here." He pulls the mask strapped on his back off, holding the large piece of Corruption Beast neatly in both hands. He looks it over seriously before he turns his gaze back to you. "If you're going to fly solo, you better be fucking ready to deal with things solo. People out here don't usually help out hapless strangers. You get caught by a Corruption Beast? We will gladly watch you die."
You shift uncomfortably from one foot to the other.
"Go on, sit." He commands and you frown. You yield however and sit at the tall stool besides him, your feet grateful for the relief.
"And listen. The corruption." He looks grim. "You can't just come into the Badlands and think you can instantly cure it. You need to live with it if you truly want to help. We don't need some little Utopian scholar to show up thinking she'll be our savior. We need someone here who will invest in the lands, the people. Invest in the research we're doing now."
Your expression softens as he puts the mask onto the bar counter and stands. "I don't suppose you—"
"Listen, if you're asking to join my group." He cuts you off, "You better reconsider."
You watch him as he takes off his own mask and sets it down, looking at you. The first thing you note is that he has a look of sadness in his eyes, making his handsome face look puppy-dog-like and vulnerable. But then his face hardens and you can see the man that cleaved a Corruption Beast in half; dangerous and skilled, ready to spill blood any moment. A mask behind a mask.
You stand and approach him, wanting to see the true expression of himself again. He watches silently as you stand up to him, Ruze a clean two heads taller than you, and you curiously reach forward and place a hand on one of the straps along his chest.
"What are you..?" He balks when you glide a hand down to touch the crossing scars on his right pec.
"I might not be as strong as you." You lead, looking up at him. He stares back, clearly caught off guard. His muscles twitch under your hand. "But I'm not hapless. I aided my last guild more than you know and I'm here today to help them."
He laughs but he sounds on edge. "Guild loyalty stays with them, eh?"
"Yes, but I know about equivalent exchange." Your heart pangs sadly but you hold firm. "If you help me, I will help you in equal terms. Why not be allies?"
He smiles, "What if I don't need your help?"
You grin in exchange, "You might be surprised at what I can offer."
His eyebrows shoot up but his smile only widens. "Well now we're talking!" He leans over you, biting his lip in a way that shows off his sharper than normal canines.
"And," you start as you slide your hand down and tug teasingly at the strap across his chest. "I can show you. If you have any mana potions to help me recover."
He leans back and looks around, face held curious and almost innocent as he looks about. He steps away from you and rummages through a bag sitting at one of the empty tables. He pulls away, visibly unsatisfied, and goes to look behind the bar counter again. Finally, he pokes his head out and looks at you with a shake of his head. "Seems we're fresh out, little bug."
You frown, eyebrows furrowing. Taking a seat again, you gently place a hand against your ribs, feeling through your clothes for the broken one. It would take a lot of rest to fill up your mana reservoir and healing ribs naturally equated to taking it easy and dealing with it.
It could be done, you suppose, but it certainly wasn't helpful in the situation you're in now. You needed to be useful to earn your stay and the idea of working through the pain doesn't entirely appeal to you. But perhaps that was just what had to be done in the Badlands.
You blanch at the thought.
Ruze steps back over to you and kneels in front of you, looking at you with concern in those big eyes. "You okay? You sure it's just a broken rib?"
You laugh weakly, "I'm fine. Why, you worried about me?"
He turns away from you with a shake of his head. "Of course not! I just can't have my assistant lagging behind in a battle because of a little broken bone pain." He laughs, looking back at you briefly. "Not good to be the weak link."
You sneer. "You can't keep underestimating me, Ruze. You may live to regret it."
He closes the space between the two of you again and laughs into your face. "Don't get me excited like that!"
You look across his face, trying to soak in everything you see. Being so close, you can feel the warmth of his breath on your cheek and the coaxing energy that rolls off him. You can tell there's more to him than meets the eye and in a way that excites you. You were on a mission to help your guildmates but…
"Well, if you're so concerned about me..." You hold your gaze and so does he. "Would you help me checks for any other wounds?"
His pupils widen as he drags his teeth over his bottom lip. "Sure."
He takes you by the wrist again, gentler this time, and guides you towards the back of the bar. He pulls you over to a table near the back wall, lets you go, and leans against a chair. He looks at you expectantly.
You carefully start to unwrap the long fabric wound around your neck and head, letting it drop uselessly to the floor. You motion to him, pointing at the long row of buttons on the front of your jacket. "Would you help me with these?"
He pauses before he nods, smile creeping on his face, approaching you with a casual swagger. His fingers are big around the little buttons as he slowly undoes them one by one. He works slowly, deliberately so you're sure, taking a moment to adjust your clothes as more of you is exposed. He unbuttons down to your navel and pauses, eyebrows furrowing.
He reaches a hand under the cloth on your shoulder and pulls his hand back, dark clotted blood covering his fingertips.
Your eyes widen and he helps you shed the jacket entirely. Your pastel blue shirt is black with drying blood. You can't help but twist your face in confusion. It certainly didn't hurt…
He tugs at your undershirt and pulls it up and over your head. Lifting your arms doesn't hurt you but you are becoming aware of how stiff it feels now, like something wedged deep into the joint.
"Fuck…" Ruze exhales and spreads a hand against the exposed skin. You look down, surprised to see a dark spot buried deep into your skin, surrounded by flaking and oozing black blood that glistens a slight purple.
Your stomach drops. "Corruption." You whisper, blood running cold.
Ruze looks around, eyes scanning around the room, before he grunts. "Sit." He orders and you mindlessly listen. He wanders away.
You knew this. You've seen it before. Hakka's hand looked the same way, swirling black and purple marring his skin, slowly spreading. It would take him over eventually and now… you too.
Ruze returns and kneels before you. He takes a closer look at the wound, scraping a nail against the foreign object lodged into you before he nods. "Listen." You try to listen but your heartbeat has risen again and it's pounding in your ears. "If I get this thorn out, we might be able to reverse this."
You laugh in disbelief. "There has never been a case where corruption has regressed once it's taken hold."
He looks up at you and his eyes are held wide, intensely so as if to challenge you. "Like I said. You need to live with it to truly know it." He pulls a small multitool up and pops a small blade out. "What's there to lose? Trust me."
You brace yourself before nodding. "I trust you."
He presses the sharp tip of the blade into your skin, flush against the thorn, and you're amazed by how little it hurts. As he keeps pressing, sinking deeper and deeper, the pain slowly starts to radiate out, growing in intensity until you jolt with a sudden onset of sharp pain.
"Ahh, I knew it." He whispers and twists the blade, using it to leverage out the foreign object.
You clench your teeth and let out a low whine as pain sparks through you. It makes your fingers and toes ache with the intensity that shocks through you. You hold onto your knees, trying to keep still.
"Shh, there there, little bug. Almost done…" He digs his fingers into the wound, grabbing at the base of the thorn, before he pulls. It's almost impossible to bear and you tense up with a short, high-pitched whine but you deal. You can feel it pulling out, ripping and snagging against you almost in a possessive way.
He's careful, deliberate, and you look down to see wriggling roots appear as the thorn is expertly extracted. You feel sick at the sight, squeezing your eyes shut as he pulls and tugs until finally you feel it pull free.
Your entire body sighs in relief as cool air soothes over burning nerves. You open your eyes and see him peering closely at the wound, breath coming off cool against the exposed muscle.
"We're not done just yet. These little bastards release venom that aid the corrupting process. Usually if it's numb after extraction it's too late and the corruption has set but it seems like we're just in luck." He smiles.
"How do you cure the venom?"
"Well. You don't. So I'm going to suck it out!"
You don't get a moment to react before he presses his lips to the wound and sucks. You flinch against the sensation, the way his tongue presses into the marred flesh and the feeling of the venom being pulled from your blood is enough to make your face flush red. You inhale deeply, trying to gather yourself, but when Ruze pulls away and spits out the black liquid onto the floor… the way his mouth is ringed with red, with blood, your blood…
He dives back in and repeats. His hands are warm and firm on your exposed arms, holding you still as he works. His tongue feels so sensual against your skin, pulling the burning pain away into a pleasurable, bearable tingle. He spits out the venom again before he looks closely at his work. Seemingly satisfied, he straightens himself out and looks at you.
"Is… Is it all out?" You ask, lightheaded.
"I don't see any venom leaking out anymore." He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, smearing your blood doing so.
You look away, relieved. His hand trails up and gently cups your jaw, making you look at him again. Tilting his head back and forth like a curious bird, he observes you. You smile weakly at him and lift your hands to touch his face back.
"Thank you." You reply, carefully wiping blood away from his lips with your thumb. You lean forward, and you hesitate. He pulls you close and you adjust, pressing your face to his chest.
He wraps his arms around you, holding you close enough that you can hear his heart beating. It feels good, you note, and you nuzzle closer to him. Ruze laughs but this time it's light, nothing like his laughter before, and responds gently, "If you're going to be my assistant, you better be more careful."
You nod against him. A fair enough deal, you think.