A Light in Dark Places (Kuroinu Reverse Isekai)

[QliphothFox]

Chapter 1

The oppressive atmosphere of the dark fortress of Olga Discordia permeated everything. Hours had already passed since Vault and his mercenaries took the fortress, looting every thing not nailed down. Rough laughter filled the halls, men talking about their victory over the continent as if it was written on the very stone they tread.

Two men in dirty gambesons walked through the ruined hallways, their gait was that of a rooster, strutting the halls like they were kings of old. The older man was a veteran, he had served with Vault for years and was leading his younger partner through the halls.

"This shite is stupid Dolph, the others are enjoying this place and we have to babysit those cunts in the dungeon" The mousy boy muttered angrily as he kicked a rock in the way.

I sighed as petyr was whining again, too young to appreciate the silver linings.

I turned to face the younger man "We'll get our due for pussy and gold you little bastard, the boss is a good leader"

"Besides, you can stare at those fat tits of theirs for hours if your so fucking bored and ungrateful"

The only response from the boy was a scoff as we stepped over a man who deep in his cup and walked down to the dungeons. Ancient and crumbling braziers barely lit the passageway as we made our way to relieve the current guards, spears resting on the table as they were playing cards.

One of them noticed their presence and sighed in relief. "Finally, if i had to listen to that blonde bitch screaming any longer I'd have jumped of the wall myself"

A voice as sharp as a razor came from the dank cell "How about you come here so I can kill you myself you pig fuckers"
The blonde dark elf then started loudly cursing them out in elvish, absolutely incomprehensible to the humans.

Dolph only shrugged, and sat down on the chairs, breaking out his cards.

Petyr walked over to the cells and his eyes locked on the prisoners "Holy shit look at the tits on these elves, do think Vault would mind if we sampled them a little?"

I growled loudly " Sit the fuck down"
I kicked out a stool "Vault still has business to do, he'll send a runner. When he says so you can get your dick wet and line your pockets with gold, until then shut the hell up we're playing cards"

The blonde one continued to scream insults at us, but I have long mastered the art of ignoring women.
________________________________________

"Chloe, stop antagonizing them" I told my vassal as she raged in her chains, the cold metal pulling on her neck and wrists screaming obscenities at the humans.

I myself felt my own chains on my neck, wrists and ankles as I kneeled on the filthy floor, stealthily carving profane runes on the floor with a nail from my bodice.

Chloe huffed but obeyed as she carefully sat down in front of me, obscuring what I was doing from the distracted humans.

My sworn sword looked back at the humans with a sneer. "Lady Olga, those animals don't deserve the right to look at you, especially like that."

Finishing the carving I looked up at the younger women. "Chloe, do you know what's going to happen to us in few hours?"
"Those despicable degenerates are going to run roughshod over our bodies until we break, and make no mistake Chloe they will enjoy it."

Chloe looked torn between indignation and fear, rubbing her back on reflex, before adopting a snarl on her face. "I'll die before they touch you my lady"

I smiled sadly at her passionate response, gently cupping her cheek with my palm. Chloe's cheeks turned pink as she leaned into my hand. "Thank you for your service Chloe, my true and faithful knight. May our next lives be more merciful than this one".

Chloe nodded grimly as I cut my palm, placing it on the runes I carved. Myself, Chloe and this entire wretched castle would be engulfed in a singularity, killing everything, this would be my final Vengeance.

As my blood filled the runes a terrible humming sound starting to emerge, the very color in this dungeon began to dim. Torches at random began to extinguish, and what little warmth was present here was replaced with an icy chill.

The sound of a stool being roughly pushed back, and heavy boot steps rushed over. "What the fuck are you two doing?"

I smiled coldly underneath my shadowed face. "You're too late humans, this queen will not be your toy".

The sequence activated, and the entire room was bathed in a baleful light. Time seemed to stop as Chloe and I began to glow with with a grey radiance. I felt a tug inside my core, as if i was being pulled somewhere else, this was the price for this spell, my very being was going to be spent.

I saw in the reflection of chloe's eyes a single tear on my face as the both of us were pulled from this hell. And in our leaving a blast of light and air filled the dungeon.

As the dust settled, Olga Discordia, the queen of the dark elves and her loyal knight Chloe were gone.

_______________________________________

The sound of a alarm clock blaring woke me abruptly. Groaning I steadied my dully aching head with my hand, and pulled myself into the bathroom.

Staring at me in the mirror was an unshaven face with blue eyes inherited from my mother. On my right shoulder caduceus tattoo with the number 68 underneath, a reminder of my unpleasant dreams. Exhaling I took a quick shower in cold water to save on my gas bill.

I dried off quick in the freezing room, and put on my park ranger uniform, the national park service patch and badge the only source of color.

Walking through the still unfinished house I got from my grandparents I threw some bagels in a bag, and poured some whiskey in my coffee for the day. The old television was on, I listened partially to the weatherman talking about the really bad snowstorms we've been having lately. I could see the snow piled up outside the dining room window, at least its snow and not thunderstorms.

Locking the house behind me I walked to my park service truck, a rugged Ford F-250 and got in, gently closing the door. Setting my thermos down I keyed my mike with a casual motion

"Dispatch this is Walden, mobile 2. Starting shift. Perimeter patrols of the park starting at the south entrance. Roads still closed to the public? Over."

Over a short pause I heard a tired yawn as the dispatcher replied clear but tired.

"Copy, Walden. Most interior roads remain closed to non essential traffic due to heavy snow, drifts, and wind. Visibility is under a quarter mile in some spots. Watch for the drifts near the overlook. Any issues call them in. Over."

"Roger that dispatch. I'll keep it slow. Walden out."

Now you might be wondering why a 29 year old Paul Walden would willingly drive out in 10 degree weather in the middle of a blizzard. The answer is someone has to, tourists constantly get lost or stranded in Yellowstone Park, I've lost count of how many city folk, thrill seekers and just plain fools I had to pull out of snow banks already.

Taking a sip of my spicy coffee, more coffee than whiskey today, have to keep sharp. I started the engine and let it warm up before driving on the road, making a right on the old Yellowstone highway. Fiddling with the radio I let it settle on Lord Huron, feeling sentimental today as I drove to the south entrance. Half listening as other rangers were calling in their shifts.

The day was pretty uneventful, but Paul always did appreciate the beauty of this place. When people think of Yellowstone they image Old Faithful, but there's a lot more here than that. The Grand Prismatic Spring, the mammoth hot springs, Lamar Valley filled with bison, elk and the occasional grizzly.

This whole place was like stepping into the past, and it was soothing in a way that words failed to describe. Other than the beauty it was cold, windy, lots of snow, a little whiskey coffee to keep me warm. It was getting dark now, the stars at Yellowstone were breath taking, shame it was new moon though.

As he was driving past the Grand Prismatic Spring a bright flash of light and a burst of wind erupted on his right side. Cursing loudly as he spilled what was left of his coffee, Paul's heart hammered in his chest as he took out his flashlight and scanned the tree line for a minute.

Men screaming in the desert, blood everywhere, a sobbing man in the distance...

Getting in control of his breathing he keys his mike.

"Dispatch, this is Walden, bright lights and wind from the prismatic springs area, investigating. Will update with more information, over."

The mike crackled back in the furious winds. "Roger that Walden, be careful. Out."

Getting out of his truck Paul approached the source of the noise.

"This is Park Ranger Walden, is anyone there?" Paul called out while advancing cautiously while climbing up the slope, then briefly freezes as he sees two unconscious women lying on the ground.

"Oh fuck."

Running over quickly he announces himself. "I'm a park ranger and I'm here to help, can you hear me?"

Nothing, the women are unresponsive and shaking. Kneeling by them he checks their airways, clear. Breathing is shallow, he observes by the struggling rise and fall of their chests. He puts a hand on their carotid, feeling the rate weak, 40 beats per minute. Making quick note of their skimpy clothing he checks their temperatures, skin is very cold, lips turning blue.

"Shit, they have hypothermia, and its bad."

Rushing back to his truck he grabs every blanket he has and sprints back to the women, putting blankets over both of them. Wrapping up the brunette first he notices the pointed ears like a elf, and heavy bruising on her neck, wrists and ankles. He cuts off her soaked, ruined clothing and pats her dry, noting her voluptuous body as he wraps her in thick wool blankets.

Focus Paul, these women need to be dry and warm, not you staring at them.

Shaking his head he gently picks her up, and quickly brings her to the back seat of his truck, laying her down horizontaly. Paul knows he needs to be careful, if he handles this wrong the cold blood will rush to their hearts and cause an arrhythmia.

Rushing over to the blonde one next he cuts off her soaked clothing as well, patting her dry. He notices immediately she's a stunning beauty as well, before focusing on assessment.

Heavy bruising as well, and are those whip marks on her back? Jesus Christ.

Paul wraps her up too, carrying her gently in his arms back to the truck, the unrelenting winter winds biting his face. After gently laying her down he puts some spare beanies over their heads and ears to conserve body heat.

Both of them have pointed ears.

Getting in the drivers seat Paul set up the heat to low to avoid thermal shock, and sits there for a second. Briefly processing what he saw. Flash of light, two very scantily clad women with pointy ears, heavy bruising and whip marks. An icy chill not from outside fills his gut, he just stumbled on something evil he hasn't seen since...

"Ranger Walden, this is dispatch, come in, over"

Picking up the mike Paul answers "Dispatch, this is ranger Walden, over"

Faint static fills the silence with the women's soft breathing, a good improvement from shallow gasping.

"Any update on that bright light you called in earlier, over"

Paul is about to respond, but then stops, looking in the back seat at the two unconscious women warming up. Nodding to himself he makes his decision.

"Dispatch, this is ranger Walden. Found two unconscious females near the prismatic area, possible tourists got lost in the storm. Severe hypothermia symptoms. Pulse present, shallow breathing, wet clothing removed, insulated.... en route to my residence for warming and further assessment. ETA to shelter, 20 minutes. Over."

While waiting for dispatch to respond Paul gently touches the women's bodies to assess their warmth, still a little cold, but improving. Doing another pulse check for arrhythmia, he estimates its now 45 to 50, better.
He turns around as the mike crackles to life

"Roger that Walden, any ID on the tourists, do you need ranger or EMS backup? Over"

Holding the mike in his hand Paul gently shakes his head. " Negative dispatch, no ID, both people are stable enough for now. Roads can't support ambulance or hospital visit. I'll update once warmed. Walden out."

Gently checking on the women once more, Paul is greatly relieved that he got to them in time. He puts the truck in drive and starts making his way out of the park. Driving slowly as to not jostle the sleeping women, stopping occasionally to evaluate their condition. No signs of worsening, looks like he won't have to give them CPR.

As he drives off the park and on the highway his thoughts calm down a little, the only sounds now are his windshield wipers brushing off the heavy snow and the mysterious women steady breathing.
He might have been a failure and a coward, but he would ensure these women lived and escaped whatever hell they dragged themselves out of.

What have I gotten myself into?

 

[fluffy]

I remember the kuroinu reverse isekai doujin. I guess this olga will get to find out about the wonders of flannel and cheeseburgers rather than kotatsu and curry.

 

[Ray22156]

Huh, you know, I wonder if knowledge of suiside techniques is suppressed in the the kuroinu universe? Especially those that would involve a revenge component? The universe would be a ripe one for these types of teckniques to be used often. It is horrible enough for almost everyone but the most lucky, and luck never lasts.

Not sure your premise would have legs. Though since you have someone other than the two ladies being foreign and introducing possibilities does provide more options. Just the girls being transferred into a new world doesn't seem enough since the world seems generic enough. Of course it is early, hard to tell what other world building is going to happen yet.

Hope your muse gives you enough to produce more chapters. I look forward to seeing where you go with this.

 

[ENDDRAGON]

I'm hoping the MC breeds all the other girls as well like Kaguya, Prim, and Radomira.

 

[QliphothFox]

Huh, you know, I wonder if knowledge of suiside techniques is suppressed in the the kuroinu universe? Especially those that would involve a revenge component? The universe would be a ripe one for these types of teckniques to be used often. It is horrible enough for almost everyone but the most lucky, and luck never lasts.

Not sure your premise would have legs. Though since you have someone other than the two ladies being foreign and introducing possibilities does provide more options. Just the girls being transferred into a new world doesn't seem enough since the world seems generic enough. Of course it is early, hard to tell what other world building is going to happen yet.

Hope your muse gives you enough to produce more chapters. I look forward to seeing where you go with this.

Click to shrink...

Its actually cannon on the VN that olga has a suicide spell, but kin suppressed it before she could activate it. I ran with what if she could actually attempt to fire it off and instead it went horribly wrong. Olga is definitely prideful enough to prefer death.

 

[QliphothFox]

Snow fell hard across the Wyoming countryside, blanketing every field, tree, and distant farmhouse in white. Most people had the good sense to stay indoors. The roads were sheets of ice, and no streetlights pierced the darkness of the highway.

The only light came from the fog lamps of a Ford F-250, its tires wrapped in snow chains as it pushed steadily through the storm. Inside, the only sounds were the soft breathing of its passengers and the crunch of tires over packed snow.

Paul kept one eye on the road and the other on the two women in the back seat. Their lips had lost the dangerous blue tint, and their bodies had stopped shaking. He checked their temperature every few minutes, driving slowly to avoid jostling them. Questions and worries swirled in his mind, but they would have to wait. First, these women needed to be warm and safe.

He recognized the silhouette of an old oak tree and turned into the gravel driveway of his unfinished house. Leaving the engine running, he hurried inside, unlocked the door, and returned to the truck. He carried the blonde woman first, careful not to bump her head on the doorframe, and laid her gently on the bed in the guest room. After piling every blanket he owned over her and turning on the small space heater, he checked her vitals one last time. Then he went back for the brunette.

His arms burned by the time he carried her through the snow and into the house, but he refused to set her down anywhere but a warm bed. Once both women were settled under layers of blankets, Paul allowed himself a moment to breathe. He was especially wary of after-drop — the dangerous rush of cold blood to the core if they warmed too quickly.

With the worst of the hypothermia behind them, he performed a careful secondary survey. Starting with the blonde, he pulled the blankets down only as far as necessary. Her ears were pointed, the right one swollen and bruised as if someone had yanked it hard. These are real, he thought with a jolt of alarm. Collar-like bruises circled her throat. Matching contusions marked her wrists and ankles, and deep purple fingerprints marred her upper arms and thighs. A nasty bruise bloomed across her stomach. When he turned her slightly, faint greyish whip marks stood out across her back — old, but unmistakable.

Paul's stomach twisted. He'd seen scars like these before.

He covered her quickly, tucking the blankets around her shoulders and pulling a beanie over her head and ears. The brunette's injuries were less severe but followed the same pattern: bruises on her neck, wrists, and ankles, plus signs she had been dragged and held down. No recent penetration. No broken bones.

Finished, he replaced the blankets and placed an old cap over her ears as well. Then he sank into the wooden chair beside the beds and buried his face in his hands. The hypothermia was under control, but the brutal story written across their bodies was one he knew too well.

Looking at the two sleeping women, he couldn't help noticing how strikingly beautiful they were. Dusky skin, platinum-blonde and raven hair, figures that belonged in fantasy art rather than a Wyoming blizzard.

Get a hold of yourself, Walden, he thought sharply. These women just escaped hell. They need help, not you staring.

With quiet steps, he left the room and returned with two bathrobes and a pitcher of water with glasses. He set them where the women would see them, then closed the door softly behind him.

Paul dropped onto the couch, rubbing his face. "Two women appear in a flash of light wearing fantasy lingerie," he muttered. "Pointed ears. Heavy bruising. One of them whipped." He stood and began pacing. "They're gorgeous on top of everything else… They're probably escaped trafficking victims."

He couldn't call this in properly. Government agencies wouldn't handle it right — not with ears like that, not with whatever nightmare they'd fled. If someone came looking, it was on him now. He had failed people before. He wouldn't fail these two.

Grabbing his radio, he keyed the mic. "Dispatch, this is Ranger Walden. Status check, over."

Static crackled. "Walden, this is dispatch. What's your status? Over."

Paul took a steadying breath and delivered the story he'd prepared. "Found two female tourists who got lost in the storm. They're stable now. Out-of-towners, planning to head out tomorrow. Over."

The silence stretched. "Roger that, Walden. Stay warm tonight. Dispatch out."

Paul let out a long breath, legs shaking with relief. He had bought them some time. He walked to the kitchen and opened the cabinet where the Jack Daniel's waited. His hand hovered over the bottle and an empty glass.

Then he stopped. I need to stay sober for this. The nightmares are the price I pay to see this through.

He closed the cabinet, grabbed an old ratty blanket, and collapsed onto the couch. The pointed ears kept circling in his mind. Prosthetics or cosplay, he could rationalize. Actual elves? No. For now, they were just two women who needed help — and that was what he would focus on. He turned off the lamp and tried to prepare himself for whatever tomorrow would bring.
___________________________
"Someone get him some help! Walden, get your ass over here NOW!"

Bullets ricocheted off a burned-out car. Blood everywhere. A severed arm lay in the dirt.

Women and children sat bound with zip ties, their eyes empty, blood soaking through their clothes.

"I'm so sorry…"

Paul woke with a violent shudder, face wet with tears. He wiped them away and sat up. The clock read 4:37 a.m. Still dark. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, straightened his clothes, and moved quietly toward the guest room.

He cracked the door open. Both women were still sleeping soundly. The blonde shifted slightly under the sheets; the brunette breathed evenly. Paul let out a small sigh of relief. They were doing better.

"Some breakfast would do everyone good," he muttered. "Then maybe I can figure out where they're from." He headed to the kitchen and began pulling ingredients from the fridge — eggs, cheese, chorizo, and frozen potatoes. The next hour passed in the familiar rhythm of cooking. The smell of frying food filled the house. Then he heard movement from the guest room.

______________________

The last thing Chloe remembered was pain. Not the sting of fresh bruises or the bite of chains, but a deep, visceral agony as Lady Olga's spell consumed everything. She had known she was dying — they both were. Better that than what Vault's animals had planned.

The cold swallowed her. Then, strangely, it receded. Warmth seeped in, gentle and unfamiliar. The ferryman has come, she thought dimly. He will take me to Mother… and to Lady Olga. At least I didn't fail her completely in the end.

Chloe let the thought carry her into soft oblivion.

She woke to soreness. Deep aches in her muscles and bruises jolted her eyes open. Sitting up abruptly, she scanned the room and felt a rush of relief at the sight of her queen sleeping peacefully in the other bed.
Then she noticed her own nudity and panic surged. She ran trembling hands over her thighs and between her legs, checking for pain or stickiness. Nothing. She hadn't been violated… yet.

She stumbled out of bed and limped to Olga's side. The steady rise and fall of her queen's chest was reassuring. The toll of that spell must have been immense.

Wait… why are we alive?

Queen Olga was a mage without peer. The spell couldn't have simply failed. Something else was at play here.
Chloe rubbed her wrists anxiously as footsteps approached from the hallway. She scanned the room desperately for a weapon. Her eyes landed on a wooden chair. Grabbing it by the legs, she raised it as the door creaked open.

A human man stepped inside. Chloe's heart hammered. The chair felt slick in her sweat-slicked grip. "Back off, human!" she snarled. "If you take one more step, I'll gut you!"

The man froze. His gaze flicked briefly to her nudity before he quickly averted his eyes and raised his open palms. He spoke softly in a language she didn't understand and began backing away.

"Tell me where we are!" Chloe demanded, voice rising. "Why are we here? What are you planning?"

When Olga began to stir, Chloe's worry spiked. She inched forward, chair raised protectively. "Get. Out. Now."

The man said something gentle and retreated, closing the door behind him. Chloe faked a lunge to test him. He only left. Strength drained from her body. She sagged against the chair, breathing hard, then turned to watch as her queen slowly woke.
_____________________________
Olga regained awareness feeling as though she floated on clouds. A rare, comfortable warmth surrounded her. For a moment she simply lay there, allowing herself to drift.

Until Chloe's angry shouting shattered the peace. She rose slowly, a bone-deep wariness settling over her. Something fundamental was missing from her very being. Her long hair fanned out as she sat up and opened her eyes.

Chloe rushed to her side and knelt. "Lady Olga! I'm so relieved you're awake—"
Olga raised a hand for silence, then listened as Chloe summarized the last few minutes.
She studied the room with a queen's eye: wood floors and walls, soft carpets, detailed paintings, simple but high-quality furniture, and a window without bars. The air was bitterly cold, and snow stretched endlessly outside. They were far north, in what appeared to be a minor noble's or wealthy commoner's home.

"So this human found us after my spell misfired, brought us here, and has shown no aggression?" Olga asked.

"Yes, my queen."

Olga stood and stretched. The cold air raised gooseflesh across her bare skin. Spotting two white robes left by the human, she slipped one on. The garment was clearly made for someone far less endowed; even after tying the sash, her breasts threatened to spill free with every movement. Chloe followed her lead and donned the other robe.

As Olga explored the room, running her fingers over the smooth wood, she reached for her magic. Nothing answered. Only a vast, hollow emptiness.

Her expression remained neutral, but panic flared inside her. There must be something — a battlefield, a leyline, anything. She tried again, chanting softly in the sacred Eldruari tongue.

"Vaelthari ensulvaryn…

Kaelhir morvessar…

Sylthraen nethkari…

Aruveth enkhalasar…"

The words felt hollow. Like grasping at smoke. Sweat beaded on her brow as she pushed harder, but the power slipped away entirely. The attempt left her dizzy and drained.

She returned to the bed and sat, masking her turmoil. Chloe watched her with open worry. "My queen?"

Olga took a measured breath. "My magic has failed me, Chloe. There is no arcane power in this place at all. We appear to be in a minor human noble's home, far to the north. The human likely found us after the spell misfired. We have not been shackled, but do not lower your guard. Humans are duplicitous by nature. He will surely seek to take advantage of us."

Chloe's face darkened with fury. "I will die before he touches you, my lady."

Olga offered a small, genuine smile. "Your devotion honors me, as always. Even if the world has turned against us, you remain at my side."

She stood, smoothed the robe, and moved to the window. Snow fell gently outside, blanketing the land. Distant mountains rose against the horizon. As the sunrise broke, chasing away the last of the night, soft golden light filled the room.

 

[John Jones III]

Warning, the text is set to black, so in dark mode you can't see anything.