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She was found in a cage. Nameless, shivering from both fear and cold, and staring at D’arce with the most terror-filled gaze she had ever seen. The girl never told her if she had a name, and D’arce never could figure out one to give her. “The Girl” or “Girl” had simply stuck.
She had short hair and blue eyes that were filled with pain and fear. She seemed to flinch from the gentlest touch, just as she would hesitate to eat any food given to her. Even when D’arce made sure she slept comfortably, even when she made sure the Girl didn’t have any nightmares, there still seemed to be a permanent terror molded onto her expression.
And yet the Girl was so much stronger than she was. Perhaps she was just used to the horrors, perhaps it was something else. But, while D’arce crumpled at seeing any of the disturbing sights, the Girl held her hand and stared forward with an expression that the knight couldn’t read. Perhaps someone wiser would manage to, but not her.
“Mama?” Came the smallest voice, the smallest croak, as the child fell to her knees. D’arce rushed to her side, with the outlander not far behind. “...Pa… Pa?”
The first moment they were able to sleep, she made sure the Girl got the bed. And she covered her with the shabby blanket, as well as any spare cloth they had. And, while the Girl slept, D’arce would stay up for a long, long, while; just until she was sure that the Girl wouldn’t be having any nightmares. Only then would she let herself doze off.
When she’d found a dagger, one with a handle too small to fit her hands, she handed it to the Girl and carefully instructed her on how to hold it and use it. “You can use it to protect yourself from anything that scares you.” She had said. And the Girl looked at her with such wide and shocked eyes, as if she couldn’t believe that D’arce was giving her something.
It happened again when D’arce gave her a small doll. But, that time, small tears welled up in her eyes and she clung to the knight's waist in a tight hug. All she did was lean down to hold her back.
The girl looked more terrified than D’arce had ever seen before. As she began to cry out in sudden pain, her small hand grabbed D’arce’s and she begged, pleaded even, for her to make the pain stop. But D’arce couldn’t, so all she could do was shush her softly and tell her it’d be okay whilst trying to give her back the doll she’d dropped.
Eventually, the Girl had started to talk. It was mostly one word responses, but it was still something. “Are you okay?” D’arce would ask as she crouched to meet the Girl’s height. And the Girl would clutch her doll close before giving a nod and a small squeak; “Yes.”
When she became tired, and there was no bed in sight, D’arce would lift her up to carry her around. It felt strange, but it seemed that finding Le’garde had become a secondary task to her– with the primary one being that she kept the Girl safe. Even stranger, perhaps funnier, in a way, was the fact that D’arce had begun trying to remember old bedtime stories, as well as make up new ones.
As they delved deeper and deeper into the dungeon, with D’arce doing her best to kill any threats while shielding the Girl from harm, the Girl had begun to hold her hand more often. Sometimes, she’d move from any bed to curl up at D’arce’s side. And whenever D’arce seemed sad, she’d hold out the ragged doll she was given to try and cheer her up. Even if it didn’t help as much as the Girl seemed to hope, it was the thought that counted and it made D’arce brighten up even so.
Her limbs began to shift and twist while her eyes spilled tears of unbearable pain. D’arce could only watch and pray to Alll-mer, Sylvian, Gro-gorth– to any god that would listen for her baby’s life to be spared, and for her pain to stop. All the while, her daughter kept croaking out “Mama” and “Hurts.”
The first to officially join their party was a cave wolf. Seeing the wolf, dubbed “Moonless,” the Girl’s gaze gained a spark of excitement and joy that D’arce had never seen before. It suddenly became Moonless’ task to carry her around and to keep her warm at night. D’arce had never understood the term “man’s best friend” until the cave wolf had proved herself to be the most caring companion in the world.
When the cave mother swept in for an attack, Moonless jumped in front of the girl and snarled with her tail lashing. And, while D’arce removed one wing, the wolf jumped and gnawed away the other. Only once the previously winged beast fled did she relax. And, when she did, her first act was to check the Girl for injuries. As did D’arce.
Once the knight was sure the Girl was uninjured, she checked upon her newly-adopted dog, who only yipped and wagged her tail when D’arce asked her if she was okay. Their little group, a makeshift family, turned into three.
But they did not progress further into the cold and damp cave– not yet, at least. D’arce fished an explosive vial out of a crate. There had been some rumble earlier in the dungeons, she had recalled, and she had intended to explore that blocked-off part. Perhaps it would lead her closer to Le’garde, perhaps it would help her find more proper food for the Girl– D’arce would be fine with eating moldy bread or rotten meat, as long as the Girl was allowed proper nutrition.
Her voice had started to fail her, as the twisted transformation progressed further. She weakly pushed D’arce away, but it seemed that she had meant to pull her closer. “Shh, shhh..!” The knight had tried, her voice weak and her eyes full of tears. “I’m here. You’re going to be okay…!”
Why had the new god asked for this? Why had the new god bestowed this fate on the child she had birthed? D’arce would never understand how a mother could want this fate for their own child.
A new member joined their group; the outlander that had stared at her and her armor with distrust earlier. Now, the only thing he had in his gaze was wariness, and, under the lighting of her torch, a hint of desperation. His name was Ragnvaldr, though his last name remained a mystery to her. But she could not blame him; not with that Oldegardian accent he bore.
Not with the knowledge that she and her fellow knights had slaughtered dozens of his people.
Still, by the firelight that she made whenever they set up camp, he told stories. Despite his scarred and sometimes scary appearance, he seemed kind. He helped lull the Girl to sleep, if she had a nightmare. Myths from Oldegard, or stories from his childhood– sometimes he’d make up the most baffling stories on the spot to get a laugh out of her. It helped D’arce laugh, too.
He made sure that, when the Girl was hungry, she got fed. Then, he fed Moonless. Sometimes, if Moonless didn’t seem as hungry as D’arce was, he’d offer her a piece of dried meat. But she’d always refuse, insisting that the proper food should go to the Girl, and Moonless was just as important– so she should receive the meat. Even as the outlander’s eyebrow quirked, she held her ground.
“Not enough food for all four of us to eat properly,” she had said as she held a now-sleeping Girl, “I’d much rather I get the last serving, so she and Moonless and yourself can be fed.”
He had responded with a grunt and said he didn’t need any of this food, and wouldn’t need it for a long while. She hadn’t understood what he meant, but she didn’t ask him to clarify. Even if she did, she was sure he’d just brush it off.
Ragnvaldr wrapped his arm around D’arce to pull her away from her daughter, her baby, as the Girl’s flesh tore as she grew. His expression was tight with grief, too, but his lips remained tight as he kept his mouth shut. But he stared up at the Girl as she grew, and she recognized that same look of pain in his eyes that he got whenever he talked about his son.
“She is your child?” He had asked quietly, not meeting her eyes. D’arce had many guesses as to why. “Why bring her here?”
“I found her in a cage.” She had answered as she moved to wrap the Girl with spare cloth and blankets. “I tried to leave with her right after I found her… But the mist surrounding this place denied me the right.”
Ragnvaldr had only responded with a deep exhale as he scratched the top of the dog’s head while Moonless reacted by kicking her hind leg in circles. In the back of her mind, there was that question; why was he there? But she never found the will to ask, and she was sure he would not answer.
So she turned her back to him, curling up around the Girl, and forced her muscles to relax. As long as she was okay, then D’arce knew that everything would turn out well. She could hear Moonless beginning to snore well before she finally found enough sheep to count, and she could hear the heavy breathing of the brute louder. “You would be a good mother.” He had said as sleep finally overcame her.
She no longer resembled the child that she once was, but she still called out for the knight who had acted as her mother, and she still called out for the outlander who had acted as her father. She cried tears that hurt to hear, but they refused to flow from her eyes. Even so, she wept, begging them to make this new pain stop.
Before D’arce, where her daughter once stood, was a someone painstakingly turning into a god. All she could do was weep her own tears and tell her daughter that it was going to be okay, even though she knew it wasn’t.
“Scared.” The girl had mumbled as D’arce examined the cube of the depths. Ragnvaldr stared at the knight with dark eyes for only a heartbeat, and then he lifted the girl up to tell her that it was going to be okay, because he was there, and so was she– and they’d both protect her from whatever evil the cube might contain.
“I’m scared.” Her voice, now frail, choked out. Ragnvaldr’s lower lip quivered, and D’arce broke into tears.