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Power ripped through me in a surge of agony, tearing at my insides as though the shadows were trying to unmake me from the inside out before reaching hungrily toward them.
The world shattered.
I dragged them into the nothingness of the in-between, into the cold, endless dark of the Nether where sound ceased to exist and time twisted into something meaningless. Weightless. Empty. For one dizzying heartbeat, the void welcomed me home, threatening to never let me go.
Then reality tore open again.
Wood slammed into my palms as I crashed onto my hands and knees on the deck of the ship, dry heaving while violent tremors wracked my body.
Water dripped against stone somewhere in the darkness, echoing across the cave. The ship rocked beneath me in a slow, soothing rhythm as the sea lapped against the hull.
Pain tore through me, splitting my body apart at the seams as shadows twisted violently beneath my skin. I collapsed onto my side, convulsions ripping through me in waves I could not fight.
I vaguely registered Solas and Aldric arguing somewhere near me.
Solas swore in the old language, pressing something to my lips and forcing my teeth to puncture it.
A blood bag.
Sweetness unfurled through my mouth, as delicate as the ocean florals that bloomed beneath moonlight along the southern coast of Lumireth, woven with something deeper. Like the spice of the liquored rum that I used to drink as a Mortal.
Her.
Fuck, it tasted like her.
My control shattered into a million pieces. My teeth tore into the bag, flooding my mouth in warm waves of the most intoxicating liquid. A groan tore from my chest, low and primal, while relief crashed through me so violently it bordered on pleasure.
The shadows recoiled, shrinking back beneath my skin as the agony finally began to ease. It was just enough that I could breathe without feeling like my ribs would tear through my chest.
All too soon, the bag was empty and I threw it to the side, jumping to my feet as clarity crashed over me.
“That was disgusting,” Aldric murmured, placing a hand on his stomach and turning away from us to lean against the railing of the ship.
“Where did you get that from,” I growled slowly, fists clenching at my sides and taking a slow step towards Solas who raised his hands in surrender and pointed at Aldric.
“Riven. Or Helion, I suppose left a satchel filled with bags of blood in my quarters before the wedding. I was going to give it to you after the ceremony, but then Lyra was taken by him. I hadn’t decided if it was some sort of trick. But then Caelum told you to drink my sister’s blood and I wondered if his note was-”
His words cut off I step through my shadows and appeared in front of him in a blink, my hand seizing his throat and cutting off his words.
Solas squatted down, riffling through the brown leather satchel the prince had clung to since we left the castle before standing and blowing a wayward strand of hair out of his face.
He handed me a piece of paper, and I unfolded it while keeping a steady pressure around Aldric’s throat with one hand, he wheezed, pale skin turning a shade of red.
I did not recognise the handwriting sprawled on the page, but some part of me knew it was his.
My creator.
Rythos,
Consider this a wedding gift. Forgive the theatrics, but I do so enjoy knowing you felt every moment of it. It would be a shame if you died before you could appreciate the scale of my plan. So drink up, old friend.
In return, I require a small favour.
On the night of the blood moon, Meet me at the Whispering Isles with a scale from a sea serpent, a vial of Siren tears and a jar of sand from the shores of Stonebriar.
In exchange, Lyra can return to you. If she chooses.
- Helion
