Sulphur & Lightning Chapter 13: 012 - We're the Same

Read chapter 13 of Sulphur & Lightning by anaugustauthor on NovelPedia.

“That is to say that each corpus stands in three things. The names of these three things are sulphur, mercury, and salt.” He opened his eyes. He hadn’t been aware that he’d ever closed them. He closed them again because they hurt, and he couldn’t see anything. His body was on fire. It just felt that way. Felt like every cell was alight. Like he was going to spit out a fireball at any point. Why? He felt something in his body. Something that didn’t belong. In fact, his entire body felt foreign at this moment. Maybe he was the foreigner. Was this even his body? He tried to move his fingers. No response. Toes. Likewise. Was he even breathing? Yes. It seemed so anyway. But still, he couldn’t control the pace. Allowing himself to focus, he noticed it wasn’t the breath he was familiar with. It was a desperate, trying breath. What was going on? He remembered… Silver. No, it wasn’t silver. It was something else. Something… it was impossible to explain something like that, but it was certainly the last thing he had seen before waking up here. What a mystery, he thought to himself. Oh, my finger twitched! He hadn’t just been thinking idly but trying his best to manipulate his body into moving. It wasn’t exactly breakneck speed, but he was getting somewhere at least. Silver. He was able to flex his hand. No, something else. His breathing was becoming steadier. Molten silver. He sat up weakly. But without heat. He unsuccessfully tried to lift his body. This was a beyond bizarre experience for him. As a Lycan, his body was like a machine under his control, down to the minutest of functions. For him to just suddenly be unable to use it was completely unexpected and also terrifying. A Lycan’s body was their weapon and pride, more so than the other races of this realm. To be unable to use that gift… Still feeling his way through, he tried again and vaulted to his feet unsteadily like some newly born hooved beast. Still, it was better than not even being able to breathe properly. His sight also seemed to be returning. His eyes opened to reveal an endless stretch of white sand as far as even his far-searching eyes could see. Come to think of it, other than the agonising burning sensation within his members, the weather was unbearably hot now. How was he just noticing? He felt that he was forgetting something, and something essential. He tried racking his muddled-up brain for some sort of definite answer or memory, but it was to no avail. He couldn’t nail anything down. There were flashes, though. His mind moved through random bits and pieces, not recognising their significance at all. Father. The thought of his dad suddenly shot through his mind and filled him with some measure of sadness. He was at a loss for why that would be, but it was poignant. The last thing he had seen was his dad. With that weird metal water. Now he was here. Where was here? His guess was as good as any. Did his dad send him here? Why would he do that? Elijah was bewildered but knew that idleness wouldn’t solve anything. He looked into the undifferentiated scenes of sand before him and cursed his lack of a sense of direction: why would a Lycan not be able to tell where they are intrinsically? He decided to just pick a direction and go with it. After all, as a Lycan, he didn’t need to worry about heat stroke or dehydration for quite a while. He’d keep his eye out for any green; it was the best place to find water and, with it, life. Onward and upward. In the castle that was the Chukwdifu manor, the young mistress of the house tended to her daily affairs in a clearly distracted manner. After all, the quill in her hand had remained above the parchment for minutes now and dried up as a result. Just what was she thinking about at this time? Suddenly, a gust blew into her office and sent the many documents flying about. Before they could be scattered about, though, a wave of her hand dragged them back to the desk and glued them there. “That level isn’t bad at all, young mistr