Shadow of the Abyss

Chapter 226: The Dark Curse I

In a blinding rage, Roxas spewed countless rays of light onto the land, superheating the stones to magma. Layers of perspiration dotted his brow, wenching at his tarnished robes as he roared. Shrouds of enigmatic light exploded, casting craters far and wide when blood spewed from his mouth.

He staggered back, falling to a knee, light-headed and weak. "Damn you, boy! Damn you!" he muttered, vomiting another mouthful of blood, facing the backlash of his meridians rupturing. He growled, falling faint.

Hundreds if not thousands of meters below, Altair awoke and fainted soon after, unable to keep a clear mind. In a cycle, his consciousness came and went. His instincts woke him of the impending danger, but his body was unable to keep up.

Just then, a faint voice came, stirring the Prince. "Master!" The voice had been so soft, as if it echoed from so far away. 'Master, you must wake up! Syris feed him."

"Feed him? Feed him what?"

"Your blood."

"Screw that! He's fine!"

"He'll die!"

"I'll die! My blood is precious. I can't just—"

"Do you want to save him or not? Look at his gut!" Nia voiced, cradling her Master, noticing the way his entrails hung from out his stomach. Bone protruded from his skin, and dirt marred his flesh and injuries alike. He didn't look anything like her Prince but rightfully a beggar on the precipice of death.

Syris bit her lips, rather disgruntled. She liked Altair. She liked him a lot. But the act of giving one your blood was sacred to a Celestrials. In her past, blood had been the catalyst for creation. To spill blood in battle was honorable.

But to give it freely meant marriage. Such a tradition dated back far before the Celestrial, echoing from their Ancestors, the High Humans.

"Traditions or someone's life..." She thought, her mind coming to a decision. Pressing her wrist within Altair's mouth, a tantalizing shudder came as two shards of ice penetrated the skin. It's stung, pulsing with a distant trace of pleasure, rattling along the skin. The cold became warmth, trailing up her slender neck.

She felt her blood flowing from her wrist past his lips, and a greater sense of weakness took her, followed by a gentle numbing sensation spreading through the arm. The cold grew sharper, more present, but so did the pleasurable sensation of his lips against her skin.

Syris moaned through her clenched teeth, feeling her breath catch and her heart quicken. She struggled, trying to pull away. But her body refused to listen to her. It moved in on its own, her fingers running hands through his matted hair, clearing it of debris as though she was his lover.

Shame crept through her mind, but Syris couldn't stop herself. Her skin felt as though it were on fire. And her loins...

'Gods... I'm about to... I'm about to... ' she thought when Nia jerked her arms out from his mouth. Syris's eyes went wide.

"Y-Y-Y-You can't die... here," Nia lulled out, collapsing into a dark mist. Returning to her Master's embrace. Killed by her injuries.

Altair licked his lips, opening his eyes with a profound sharpness. Nodes of Iridescent light spiraled around his injured body, pulling his intestines back into his stomach. His skin, which had once been punctured by bones and stone alike, began to mend, healing at a visible rate. Syris's blood had been so rich with Mana that it managed to pull him from the closest reaches of death.

"You taste good," He muttered.

Syris felt a heat catch in her chest. But still bonked him on the head, biting her lip. "You owe me big time!

Feigning injury, Altair mischievously grinned, "I could treat you to dinner."

Ren had the grace to blush. She tipped toed towards him and smiled. "You really have changed, haven't you."

"Good or bad?"

'Not sure,' she admitted faintly. Observing the way the glint in his eyes dimmed. "But I don't mind. It's still you. Still my Art. Now tell me all that happened?"

Recounting the battle between Ignus and himself, Altair told her about the surprise attack of Ser Glynn and Roxas before long his encounter with Syris. He had been bedridden for nearly two weeks, finding his soul exhausted beyond belief with his last battle.

Ashen Blood might have mended such exhaustion, but Altair didn't wish to be surprised by another attack once again. If he were, he'd need all is Mana, at least until Reina awoke.

"Two weeks," Ren muttered, so overwhelmed she blushed. "You fucked me into a coma."

"Please... if you say it like that. People might think it's a flex." Altair said. However, he didn't seem happy about it. The loss of control had not been something to be proud of. "Anyway. Can you protect me?

I've no idea where Thanatos and Zagreus are. But this level of soul exhaustion runs quite deep."

"Leave it to me!" Ren gave him a thumbs up. She watched her prince slowly close his eyes, allowing his Ashen Blood to activate.

And she thought. "I wonder what Art tastes like now that he has Ashen Blood?"

She shook the thought from her mind when a soft knock echoed through the door. Syris entered with a slight surprise gleam in her eyes.

"Ah. You're awake."

Ren's eyes turned blood red then, while her voice carried the echoes of death, " This Glynn, did you find him?"

Shaken by the bloodlust passing through her bones, Syris instinctually shook her head. "He's gone. Tasha even confirmed it."

"And you believe her?" Said Ren darkly.

"I've no reason to doubt her. Do you?"

"She's a devil. That is more than enough reason. But... it's unlikely." She shook her head, folding her arms. When her personality switched, her voice became like sweet honey. "I heard Art bit you. How was it?"

Syris chagrinned. "Alright, I guess," she lied, too ashamed to admit the truth.

Reina saw through the lie but didn't press the matter. She gestured her in, patting the bed with a warm smile.

"I see. Then... what say you on journeying with Altair for a while longer?"

"A while longer?" Syris looked a bit taken aback. "What do you mean?"

Ren lifted her lips, turning to perhaps her only friend. "Well..."