It was a very low song.
But in this lifeless place, it echoed well off the walls.
It was surprising to know that a person was in such a terrible place, and that person was even singing, for that matter.
After all, the undead were easily triggered.
They were lifeless, mindless beings that fed on the brains of the living.
Singing in such a place was an obvious test of Fate.
However, this person continued to sing, and even though the zombies heard it, they did not rush for a juicy bite.
Rather, they continued with their activities, ignoring the singing like it was not there.
Ella walked around as she traced the sound of the voice.
As she did, she noticed that the Negative magic became stronger the deeper she went.
Instantly, she waved her hand, and her Green bow appeared like it was always there.
She pulled at its string, and Holy Power gathered around its edge as a white arrow made out of Holy Power formed.
Finally, she got to the room.
After readying herself for the fight behind the wall, she immediately rushed into the room, but what she saw was not what she was expecting.
Ella had been in this line of work for centuries and was a master of her craft. Her many years also gave her insights into human nature and behavior that many philosophers, limited by the mortality of their human fate, could only fantasize about.
But for her, it came as naturally as breathing.
The moment she got into the room
What she saw made her freeze in surprise, and her fingers suddenly refused to release the sting of her venom.
It was a person in what she was sure were the ragged clothes of a hospital patient.
She laid flat on the ground.
Her hands and legs were chained to the ground.
Her hair was ginger red, with a bit of freckles on her cheeks.
She looked to be nineteen or twenty, but Ella's eyes were more discerning.
This was a woman who was well over fifty.
Tears ran down the sides of her eyes, and her mouth moved slowly.
The song had been written by her.
This person was Ciri.
From the center of her chest flowed little white lights towards the ceiling, and from the ceiling flowed the dark of the nether back into her chest.
It was a kind of replacement for the life leaving her body.
Ella looked to the ceiling, and over there was an abominable creature of the Nether realm. It had a flat face that looked like chewing gum that had been stepped on.
It had no limbs, but from its body, there were protruding spikes that looked like sharp teeth.
Ella walked steadily towards Ciri, pointing the glowing arrow right at her head.
It was only at this point that Ciri noticed she had a guest.
However, she did not panic.
"If you are here, it means that they are all dead. Am I right?" Ciri asked.
Her voice was tender, and even though she was no longer singing, there was no notable difference between when she was and now that she talked.
"Do you know who I am?" Ella asked.
"Yes, I do. Not personally, but I remember when the caretakers were talking about you. They said you were a kill switch in case I ever went rogue."
Ciri looked around and then back at Ella, saying, "I went rogue."
Ella nodded and said, "Yeah, I can see that. What I can't see is why. Do you know what that thing is?"
Ciri shook her head. "I know it's not good, but I had no choice."
Ciri was actually a country secret that had been kept down here.
She and her family were taken when she was barely a teenager.
For many years, she had been experimenting with the creatures of the Nether.
Her blood was discovered to be a very special one, and the government sought ways for this to be used and Weaponized.
According to Ciri, she was not the only one captured. However, she had been the only one who had survived the inhumane torture until this moment.
For fifty years, one by one, she had to watch her family die horrible deaths by her side as these researchers carved them up in terrible ways just to see what their insides carried that made their bloodline so special.
Ciri's family has conducted missions for this country in the past.
Hers was a family of Gypsies, carrying one of the oldest magic bloodlines.
However, the kingdom and its rulers wanted more.
They wanted to rule, and with the drag of power back and forth between countries of the world flexing both economic and physical Strength, this country felt left out and wanted more.
Unknown to them, Ciri's family had a bloodline contract with this nether creature.
A creature that could only be brought upon by extreme pain of mind, soul, and body.
The creature bounded by blood heard Ciri's pain and came for her answer.
As both women talked, Ella ended up putting away her weapon and lying beside Ciri on the ground.
This was an action that took the witch by surprise at the time.
But with the kind of cold pain she had experienced that had lasted for fifty whole years, she really needed someone at the moment.
After all, this nether creature was taking in her life force for the spell on the country to be successful.
As Ella listened to her, she was surprised to see that Ciri was just like any other girl.
She had hopes and dreams, and even in this hell hole, she had fantasies and hoped that some magical prince could come and save her some day.
But that never happened.
Ciri did not have long to live anywhere, and Ella, with her old age, was not in any particular rush to leave either.
In this manner, both women shared their dreams, wants, and needs, and an unlikely bond was formed.
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