Chapter Text
It had all happened so fast.
One minute, you were casting spells, trying to pinpoint the location of the artefact rumored to be within the walls of Crumbling Farum Azula. The next, you found yourself landing butt first on the ground, surrounded by darkness. You scrambled on all fours, trying to make out your current location.
“Who…? Mine appetite… mine only company… is this madness…?”
You clasped your hand over your mouth to muffle an almost scream. Trying to keep calm, you looked around, focusing your vision, and finally seeing the outline of a figure—obviously not human, given its huge size—slumping a distance from you. Its hooded head, you assumed, was facing towards your direction. You held your breath, not wanting to alarm the creature.
All of a sudden, you found yourself on your back, breath knocked out of your lungs. A hand, clawed and covered with bandages, pressed against your middle, trapping you onto the cold hard ground. The head loomed above you. You noticed a furry snout poking from under the hood, its flews drawing back into a snarl, revealing sharp white teeth.
A beast?
It sniffed at you. For a moment, you braced yourself, fearing that you were to be devoured. But the beast stopped, its grip loosened around your waist.
“Thou dost not reek of death,” it—he—spoke up again before releasing you completely. A few taps on the floor and the place lit up a little, allowing you to see the surroundings more clearly.
“State thy purpose,” he demanded, his voice gravel.
“I, um…” You found yourself at a loss for words, but as you tried to explain, your words strung together to form something barely coherent. “My spells must have gone wrong… I was just looking for this artefact in the dungeon… I didn’t mean to intrude, I swear! I’m sorry! Please don’t hurt me—”
“Dungeon? Thou camest from Farum Azula?” he cocked his head.
You nodded, still cowering on your spot.
He acknowledged you with a grunt before pointing to the crumbling wall nearby. “Thou must have activated a portal by accident. I fear it is no longer at the original position.”
You looked to the direction and tried casting the spells that landed you here, both in order and in reverse, but he was right—nothing happened. You took a long sigh, defeated. “My apologies for the intrusion, but will you allow me to stay here? I need to figure out how to be back…”
Even though his face was hidden by the hood, you could feel his glare burning holes through you. But he let out an exasperated sigh, his words muttered in a gruff tone, “Disturb me not, and thou canst stay.”
It was not like you needed his threats to keep your distance. You quickly nodded and asked, “How should I address you?”
“Thou mayst call me Gurranq,” he replied. “I am the clergyman of this Bestial Sanctum.”
***
Your next few days were spent exploring the sanctum. There was not much to see, actually—the sanctum was just a very large, isolated building, with a gargoyle guarding outside. You wandered around but could not get very far alone on foot, so you just kept within the area and tried activating the portal again and again, to no avail.
At least you were not alone. Despite Gurranq’s initial hostility towards you, the beastman was the most decent company you had had in a long time. You had been used to weird stares and unkind murmurs from the townspeople—justified, since you had always been by yourself and done things that they could never have comprehended. The only reason you had not been shunned completely was that you still had your use, especially during these changing times with the new Elden Lord.
In contrast, Gurranq just kept to himself and did not meddle with whatever you were doing. In return, you keep your respectful distance. A reluctant truce was formed.
***
You returned after another failed attempt only to find Gurranq groaning and shuddering. He could not even sit upright, all his weight supported by his hands and knees.
You should just have left him alone—he did order you not to disturb him. But foolish as you were, and strong as your empathy was, you could not just ignore the beastman, who was clearly in pain.
You approached him with cautious steps. “Are you all right?”
“Mine appetite… My hunger… Feed me… Death…” he winced, his voice so much like a restrained scream.
He was not making any sense, but it seemed he was starving for something. You dug through your pouch, taking out a handful of herbs and offered him. “Here, some herbs that I usually eat for quick nourishment. They should help—”
He growled, snatching the plants from your hand and gorging on them. A roar tore from his throat. You jumped back and scuttled away, keeping a safe distance from him, fearing you had messed up.
But his roar died down, followed by an eerie silence. He was still heaving, but he could slowly sit upright again. He faced you, and you got a glimpse of bright golden eyes under the hood.
“Pain… no more. I thank… thee,” he said.
You nodded, mouth still agape.
“Thou art a healer?” he asked, his voice tinged with surprise.
“Technically, I’m a mage,” you corrected him, “but I do know a thing or two about treating ailments.”
He silently nodded, his form betraying no emotion.
“Your… pain.” You carefully chose your next words then asked, “Has it ever happened before?”
“Yes,” he grumbled, “it is mine only friend, if thou must.”
Your jaw dropped in shock. “You can’t be serious! Why haven’t you sought healing?”
He just shook his head. “For what purpose doth it serve?”
“What nonsense!” You yelled at him and regretted it immediately when you saw his body tensed up. “My apologies. I mean, I can’t imagine why you’re torturing yourself this way.”
“I am just paying for my sins,” he said, his tone regretful.
You wanted to pry, but knew it was not your place to do so. Instead, you made him an offer. “Needless suffering is not the way. Please, allow me to help you while I find my way back.”
He just stared at you for a moment and nodded. “Very well. I shall receive thine assistance.”
***
After the incident, while Gurranq was still for the most time quiet, you did sense something akin to his acceptance during your limited interactions. You talked sometimes, mostly about his condition, sometimes about the portals. He answered your questions with utmost patience—of a saint, you dared say.
From your lines of inquiry, you had gathered that he was suffering withdrawal from a substance that no longer existed. It was a tricky situation, but you figured trying to alleviate his cravings with alternatives like herbs did help. He accepted the plants you gave him without question and even let you experiment on him with your spells.
With your combined efforts, his pain seemed to have subsided. A small victory for you both, you thought with a smile.
***
Gurranq kept some supplies in the sanctum and told you to use them as you wished. It was in exchange for your help, he insisted despite your protests, and you eventually relented. Curiously, there seemed to be no end to his stuff—you kept taking and taking from the caches every day, but somehow things never ran out.
You supposed Gurranq replenished them, but you never saw him leave the sanctum. He spent most of his time crouching at his usual spot or checking on you, but he never went outside. Maybe it was some kind of magic, which could be helpful to your people during times of scarcity. You asked him about it. He never gave you a straight answer, though.
There were also other peculiarities. Stuff that you swore you put in one place showed up in another—more particularly, it was as if things were moving around in a fixed cycle. A bowl that you put on the shelf just kept appearing on the table, before reappearing on the shelf again. Talking to Gurranq about the matter proved to be even less illuminating—he always answered you in cryptic riddles.
After some time, you decided to simply gave up. He had never asked for any of your secrets, so it was only fair that you let him keep his. Moreover, it was not like you could be mad at him for long, as he nudged you with a claw and handed you some rare herbs that just happened to be your favorites.
***
You woke to the sound of howling.
It was still the dead of night. The heavy rain had not ceased. You looked around, not finding Gurranq in his usual spot.
You rushed outside to see him howling, his face towards the stormy sky. His voice was pained, dragged out, like he was mourning something. But there was also a hint of wrath that you had never witnessed before.
“Gurranq?” you called, “are you all right?”
He stopped for a moment and turned towards you. “Go back inside. It is not safe out here.”
“But—”
“Go,” he growled. His tone sent a chill down your spine. You nodded and just scurried back inside.
The howls continued for another hour before he staggered back in, his robes wet and plastered to his frame. You ran to him, wanting to chide him for not taking care of his already delicate state, but could not find the words and the will to do so.
He did look at you, though, his face still covered by the hood, but part of his snout was visible. “Thou art not resting,” he commented.
“I was worried,” you admitted with a shrug. “How are you feeling now?”
“Nothing good,” he replied. “But thou need not worry. Just bad memories. I am used to them.”
“Will you tell me about them one day?” you asked. In a daring move, you placed your hand on his, gauging his expression. He just stared down at your hands and back up at your face for a long moment.
Then he nodded, promising, “One day,” before lowering his snout to touch the top of your head.
***
There were days when even your spells and herbs could not help.
He was clutching his belly this time, his breathing hot and ragged. He could not even suppress his pained whimpers. You watched him, desperately trying to find something, anything that might help. You could not stand to see him suffer.
A daring idea crossed your mind.
“Gurranq.” You touched his arm. “I know this may sound strange, but… will you allow me to rub your stomach?”
“My stomach?” Gurranq grunted, hesitation evident in his voice.
You nodded. “Us humans do find it helpful sometimes. It won’t hurt to try, yes?”
The beast clergyman was silent for a moment, but after a while, he relented. “I trust thee,” he said. “Thou mayst start.”
You instructed him to lie down and put your hands on his stomach, rubbing the part through his robes. His abdomen felt firm and hard under your hands. Still, indirect contact could only do so much—you have to touch his bare belly to really feel the pressure points. The request stuck in your throat. Reassuring yourself that you were just trying to help, you put your best efforts in keeping your voice steady, “Gurranq, I’m afraid that the robes covering your stomach need removing.”
He gave you a grunt that sounded pretty much like annoyance and disbelief, but to your surprise, he did not protest. One clawed hand reached to pull the cloth up, showing his belly—covered in fur and scars.
“Doth this suffice?” he asked.
You nodded. “Yes. I’m going to put my hands on you now.”
This time you did find the pressure points with more ease and started applying some force on them. He groaned next to you, the noises a mix of pain and relief and something else—but maybe it was just your imagination.
After a while, his clawed hand gripped your wrist. “Enough. Thy hands are trembling.”
He was keenly observant, as usual. You had not even realized how tired your hands had gotten. His grip loosened and you withdrew them from his belly.
He cleared his throat before speaking up again, “I do feel somewhat better. I would not mind if thou dost this again.”
“Gladly,” you replied with a smile.
***
The days were getting colder. Your blankets and magic were not enough to keep you warm. The fire you lit died minutes after its start. Sleep had been eluding you, adding to your exhaustion from taking care of Gurranq and seeking the portal.
That night, you were shivering and willing yourself to sleep, when Gurranq spoke up from his spot at the center of the sanctum, “Thou art cold?”
“Yes,” you replied, your teeth were chattering. “I’m all right, though, don’t worry.”
“Come here,” he said. “I shall keep thee warm.”
“I cannot trouble you with this—” you protested, not wanting to disturb him, but he just shook his head.
“Come. It is no trouble. I will not harm thee.”
You did need the warmth, so after some pondering, you decided just to take the risk. If he had wanted to hurt you, he would have done so without asking. With hesitant steps, you approach where he was resting, and sat down next to him. A clawed hand reached out to slip on your shoulder and coax you to lie down in his lap. Then his body, a burning furnace, surrounded you. Your shivering stopped after a short while.
“Is it better for thee now?” he grumbled above you.
“Yes. Thank you, Gurranq,” you murmured, already lulled into sleep by his warmth and gentle purring.
“Thou art most welcome,” he replied, then added after a moment, “little one.”
***
It had become second nature for you to seek his warmth during colder days. After all, he did not mind, and if you dared be honest, he was actually eager for your presence.
You wondered how long he had been in this sanctum, just existing, without any companion but the gargoyle outside and his thoughts and his appetite. You knew what it felt like to be all by yourself, but you could never fathom how it must have felt to be in such extreme isolation, with that pain, in so long a time. You wondered why he had not gone mad. Maybe he already had.
In the coziness of his embrace, you found yourself opening up to him. About your past, your present, your future. About your love, your hate, your fears, your frustrations. And in kind, he too told you his stories, albeit in abstract terms. A loyal warrior, gulled. A fearsome force, fallen from grace. Impending madness—the price of his sins. Loss of those he once cared about, in one way or another. And in his words, there was a layer of caveat—that he was not a creature of kindness.
Still, despite the looming danger, you sought his closeness, your own loneliness echoing his. The idea of getting stuck here for eternity did not sound so bad now.
***
But no matter how much you tried to reassure yourself, you were getting frustrated in this confinement. It had been months, maybe even years—you had lost track—but the damned portal was still elusive, despite all your efforts. None of the spells worked. None of the tomes offered any answer.
On top of all misfortunes, Gurranq’s improving condition had also come to a halt. It was as if he had gotten better one day, only to revert the next. Helplessness rose inside your chest. It must have shown in your expression too, which did not escape Gurranq’s notice.
“Thou needst not trouble yourself with me, little one.” He grabbed your hands to stop you as you tried to massage his belly for some temporary relief, his touch tender and careful. “I am used to the pain. Focus on thyself and the portal.”
He was right—your mind could not be in two places at once. But leaving him to deal with the pain alone made you feel guilty, somehow.
***
You paced around the sanctum, your mind a jumbled mess. There must have been something that you were missing. Something, you suspected, that Gurranq had been hiding from you.
“There’s something wrong with this place,” you told him days after your last conversation.
The beastman stayed silent for some time, before finally nodding. “Yes.”
“Are you trapping me here?” you accused, testing his reaction.
“I have no such power,” he replied calmly. “Thou art chained by thine own mind.”
“What? This doesn’t make any sense!”
“Focus on thyself, little one,” Gurranq replied, “and thou shalt find the answer.”
You groaned in frustration but could not find it in yourself to argue. You had to focus.
You contemplated all peculiarities during your time within and just outside the Sanctum walls—the endless supplies, things jumping all over the places, Gurranq’s fluctuating condition… Realization dawned on you.
Gurranq took note of your expression, and for a moment you thought you saw his shoulders drop. His gravelly voice echoed off the walls, “And what answer hast thou got?”
“Time here…” you motioned to the half-crumbling walls. “It flows differently from the outer world. The physicality of things changes back and forth, but somehow our mind and memories stay intact. A loop of time. A limbo…”
“Thou art correct,” he confirmed.
“Things will always be maintained in these limited states,” you added. “Your appetite… There is no cure, is there?”
The beastman just shook his head.
“You knew all this from the start...” You quivered in anger, your fists clenched by your sides. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because…” He lowered his head, not meeting your eyes. “I have a selfish wish.”
You looked at him, a lump forming in your throat. You had always had this lingering doubt, and now…
“I have grown used to thy presence, little one,” his voice was quiet, tinged with exhaustion. “And the thought of thou leaving, after all this time… I cannot bear it.”
Your mouth went dry, your heart beating wildly in its cage.
“I wish to keep thee here. With me. Forever in this moment,” he confessed.
Your voice trembled, “Will I ever be able to leave?”
“As soon as thou find out the truth, thy mind is freed. Thou can leave.” He motioned to the now visible portal at the far end of the hall. You should have felt relief and run like the wind, far far away from this cursed creature. Yet, your feelings for him were warring with your longing for home. And on top of all that was confusion. He was still hiding something from you.
“Gurranq, you know I care about you! Even if I leave for home, I will return to visit. Why all this trickery?”
He tensed up at your question, conflict evident in his posture. But he eventually let out a long sigh, and then came another confession. “Once thou leavest, thou will never come back. No one hath ever done so, and I do not know whereforth.”
“Then why don’t you come with me? Out of this accursed place?” you pleaded.
“I cannot.” He sighed, lowering his head further. “Outside of this sanctum, I am dead. This fragment of time is all that remaineth of me. A curse of fragile immortality.”
Your words failed you at the revelation. That strange pain blossomed in your chest, choking you, tearing your heart apart. His deception, his pain, his affection—it was all too much.
Gurranq faced away from you, his head hung in shame. “I have no right to keep thee here against thy will. The choice is thine to make.” He paused for a moment and whispered, “Whatever thy decision, know that I shall always adore thee, little one.”
You took a deep breath, your eyes trained at the simmering blue portal, then at Gurranq’s slumped form.
You made up your mind.