The cold air of the cavern pressed in on Severin as he half-carried Damien deeper into the cave. The vampire's weight pressed heavier against Severin's shoulder with every step, though Damien said nothing. His jaw was clenched tight, his eyes were dimmed and his skin paler than any ghost's.
"How long till we get to her?" Damien asked weakly.
"Hold on," Severin muttered under his breath, not sure if Damien could hear him. "We're almost there."
At last, the jagged tunnel gave way to a chamber carved carved in the cave. The stone walls were etched with runes that throbbed faintly, as though alive. In the center, a circle of silver fire burned dimly throwing ghostly light across the floor.
An average sized woman with long black hair braided down and cascading down her back stood by the flame. Her eyes were a pale brown color, glowing faintly as though they saw more than the flesh. She turned as Severin stepped into the chamber with a languid expression.
"Morrigan," Severin said as he approached her, lowering Damien onto a stone slab draped in dark cloth. "He needs you."
Morrigan's gaze lingered on Severin only for a breath before sliding to Damien. She moved closer, though she spoke with a low and calm voice .
"And what might the almighty Von prince require of me?" she asked sarcastically, smirking down at his pale face.
Damien's lips twitched. Even pale, sweat-slicked, and fighting for every breath, his tone came out sharp. "If I knew, I wouldn't be here, Morrigan."
Morrigan scoffed and crouched beside the slab. With a practiced motion, she tore away what was left of the blood-soaked fabric around his leg. Her fingers traced the wound lightly, not touching the skin but moving just above it. Her eyes darkened.
"This is no ordinary venom," she said plainly "A rogue's poison burns out quickly against vampire blood. But this... this is spreading quicker than the average one."
Damien's gaze locked on hers intently. "What do you mean, average one?"
Morrigan met his eyes squarely. "I'm saying that whatever or whoever bit you has corruption in its bite. Impurity. It is no longer in your leg alone. It's inside your blood."
For a moment, silence hung in the air. Severin's jaw tightened as he looked between them. Damien let out a humorless laugh that cracked into a grimace of pain.
"Of course it is," he rasped, dragging a hand across his sweat-damp forehead. "Tell me something I don't already feel burning through me."
"You should not even be alive," Morrigan said simply. "I have never seen such a poison resist the healing of your kind."
Severin stepped forward. "Can you fix it?"
Her pale eyes shifted back to Damien. "Perhaps. But it will not be easy. The ritual might draw it out, if your will is strong enough to withstand it."
Damien lifted his head, strands of dark hair falling across his forehead. "Do I look like I have a choice?"
Morrigan studied him for a moment longer, then straightened. Without another word, she began her preparations.
.........
The chamber shifted as Morrigan worked. Red candles forming a circle, lit themselves one by one, glowing a darker shade of red. The runes on the walls glowed brighter, feeding light into the circle of the candles with of the silver fire at the center. She ground some herbs into powder, then poured the mixture into a bowl of liquid that hissed and brought of grey smoke.
Severin stood off to the side with his arms crossed tightly over his chest and his eyes never leaving Damien. He had actually been curious about what exactly had happened at Veylar, who had attacked him, and where Elena was but decided not to since it wasn't the right time.
"Lie back," Morrigan instructed.
Damien obeyed, lowering himself fully onto the stone slab placed on top of the silver fire. His chest rose and fell shallowly as his muscles tensed up as if bracing for a spiritual war.
Morrigan dipped her fingers into the smoking bowl of herbs. With her free hand, she ripped off his shirt with force and discarded the fabric to the ground. With his bare chest now fully in her gaze, she then began drawing symbols across it and on his forehead. They glowed faintly, sinking into his skin as though his body absorbed it.
"You must fight with it," she warned. "And you must not give in either. The poison will fight back with every illusion it can conjure. If you break even for a second, it wins."
Damian gave a strained smirk at her words. "Just get on with it."
Morrigan ignored the remark with a roll of her eyes. She placed her palm over his wound, closed her eyes, and began to chant. Her words rolled low and guttural as the old syllables vibrated through the chamber.
The fire in the center roared higher, taking Damien up with its flames. The runes along the walls throbbed greatly now as if responding to her voice.
A few seconds later, Damien let out a growl-like scream.
The pain tore through him like hot iron was pierced into his veins. His body arched violently, his fists clenching so tight his knuckles split with blood flowing thinly from them. He felt fire crawl from his leg, clawing up his chest, into his heart. His throat ripped raw from the sound he could not hold back as the pain sought to consume him.
"Morrigan..." Severin started, walking forward.
"Stay back your highness," Morrigan snapped without opening her eyes. "If you interfere, he might actually die."
Severin froze in his tracks helplessly as he looked on at the figure at the middle.
Damien gasped raggedly, his body trembling greatly and his eyes shut up tightly. And then...he saw her.
"Elena…" he murmured through gritted teeth. The sweat from his forehead glided to his bare chest and fell on the stone slab like pools.
Elena stood at the foot of the slab with her hair loose and her eyes full of sorrow. She was loosely dressed in a white gown with chains bound around her wrists and blood streaking the dress.
"Damien…" Her voice broke as she whispered his name. "Help me. Please."
He knew deep down that she wasn't real. But gods, it felt real. Her voice, her trembling hands, the pain and sorrow in her eyes all came crashing down on him, tempting his resolve. He wanted to reach out to her. To grab her and pull out the suffering from her soul. But he remained fixed to the spot, unmoving.
"No," he hissed through clenched teeth. "You're not her."
The illusion shifted and more followed. Now Elena was closer, kneeling beside him, her hand stroking his cheek ever so softly. She was dressed in a black, tight dress that had a long slit from the hip downwards.
Her lips moved near his ear, brushing against it slightly.
"You can end the pain," she whispered, taking his chin in her fingers. "Just let go. Rest, Damien. Rest."
His heart lurched at the sight of her. His breath stuttered and his muscles wanted to surrender.
But then, something in him rebelled. He grabbed her wrist and shook her hand from his face violently. "You're not her," he snarled. "You're not her."
The illusion cracked and her face started twisting into a grotesque smile before dissolving into smoke.
Morrigan's chant rose louder, faster and the runes blazed with more power. Black smoke began to seep from Damien's wound, curling upward like venomous fog.
Damien roared again, thrashing against the slab as the smoke tore out of his veins. His back bowed and sweat dripped from every inch of him, staining the ground with it. Then, he stopped moving and everywhere became dead quiet again.
Elena gasped in pain as she stared at Calithar who stood in front of her. Her hand flew to her neck as heat seared across her mark. She staggered backwards before falling down. Pain,raw, unbearable pain burned through the mark, enveloping her body in its heat.
"Damien…" she whispered, trembling.
Calithar, who had been standing in front of her immediately bent low to inspect her, worry clouding his eyes.
"What is it?"
Elena pressed her palm harder against her neck. She didn't answer him but kept pressing down on her neck. Unable to bear her silence anymore, Calithar grabbed her wrist and forced it down. His eyes widened at the large, circular mark that took up almost half of her neck.
"Where did you get this?" he thundered at her as his eyes opened widely at the sight.
Before he could get any reply from her, she slumped and fainted in his arms...
Back in the sanctuary, Damien's screams resumed back, echoing through the stone walls until his voice was hoarse, until he had no strength left to thrash about. But still he endured, clinging to whatever sanity he had left in him.
Morrigan's eyes snapped open, glowing white as she shouted the final word of the chant.
The black smoke shrieked as it was ripped free, writhing in the air before being sucked into the silver fire at the chamber's heart. The flames flared high, devouring the slab completely.
Then his eyes rolled back inside his head, leaving only the whites.
He was now standing in a meadow. The sunlight shone with an impossibly warm feel, spreading across the fields of barely. A figure was approaching him with measured speed as he stood there looking into the distance.
She ran toward him, barefoot, her brown hair catching the wind like fire in the air. Her smile was radiant and her eyes were shining with joy.
"Damien!" she called out to him in a light and free voice.
He felt his chest clench at the sight of her. This… this was what he wanted. Oddly, he began to feel a strange yearning for the moment. To have this moment with her where there was no pain or motive behind him. His hands ached to hold her and his heart throbbed painfully to step forward.
But something was wrong.
As she walked towards him, her feet left no imprint on the grass and her shadow bent strangely behind her, stretching toward him like claws.
He narrowed his eyes at the sudden observation, taking a step back from her. "You're not my wife."
Her smile faltered then her face twisted, morphing into something unimaginably cruel. Her teeth grew out of her mouth, sharpening themselves into fangs before she lunged at him with a shriek.
"Give in!"
Damien roared, driving his fist through the illusion. The meadow shattered like glass, falling away.
He collapsed against the slab heaving for breath and slick with sweat. His eyes fluttered but open at last, now back to their normal brown color.
Morrigan lowered her hand slowly, breathing heavily from the effort and energy exerted. "It is done... for now."
Severin walked hurriedly to his side, gripping his arm. "Damien?" he said, shaking him with force.
Damien opened his eyes by an inch, meeting Severin's looming gaze. His lips twitched faintly.
"I'm alive aren't I? Do I look dead to you? Stop freaking shaking me you idiot."
Severin let out a frustrated breath at his comment. "I probably should have left you to suffer alone then."
Morrigan's eyes lingered on the wound on his leg. It was still dark around the edges, though no longer spreading. Her expression was serious at the reaction it gave.
"This is only the beginning," she said grimly. "The ritual worked but it only served as a respite. Whatever creature bit you, it was no rogue. It was something else. Something totally worse."
Severin's eyes narrowed. "What are you saying?"
"I'm saying," Morrigan said slowly, "that the prince's survival may depend on more than this ritual. The corruption in his blood is bound to something greater." she sighed "...but for now, it's just at the surface level."
Her words hung heavy in the cavern, echoing into the silence.
Damien closed his eyes briefly at her words. He knew already what she meant. There was only one way he could escape this and for that to happen, he had to find her first.