Drops of Blood

The Shrine was dim, the deep shadows playing through the cool surroundings. Valtameri inhaled deeply, the chilled air pressing tiny needles against her weak lung. It was a mild pain compared to what it could have been, and she ignored it anyhow. She could breathe here freely, the frustration, the anger, the fear sliding back in the presence of her Lord. She heard the others talking, and nodded a numb gesture of thank to Ebyn before gently but firmly sliding from Penthus’s arms to move forward haltingly. She knew Penthus was worried for her, his pewter eyes pooling with concern, but she could not comfort him, could not tell him everything would be alright. Because she did not know it would. And that was why she had to be here...

She found herself before the alter and fell more than slid to the ground. Her hands clenched slightly before her eyes slid shut and she began to pray, her lips moving silently to the rhythm of her words. The weight of the Darkness pressed against her, but it was a comfort, not a burden. And one she had forgotten...one she had not felt in so long...not since Verminasia...

The rulers declared her a liar, but she had truly not desired to leave that city. She had been dragged out, trying to scream and only finding a mouthful of blood. That city was where she had thought she belonged, where she had believed she had been needed and her skills could be used to their utmost. But…she had been pulled away, and by the same man who had brought her in...And, much as she hated the fact, despised it even, and wished to peel Ebyn’s skin from his back...she could not go back...

Before, when she was nothing more than an aimless Servant of her Lord, a single blade against the Light, she had always heard answers in the Dark. Not even words, but simply answers. She could whisper a prayer into the blackness and know what to do, how to precede, where to go. But, since entering Verminasia, the answers had become fewer and fewer, even the presence she felt against her now had faded until nothing remained but a comforting darkness. And she had decided it was because she had found her place. Now she knew that that was not true, that she had been blinded. For even just stepping into this Shrine, she felt Him, His strength and she knew she would be answered.

And simply for that reason she knew she would never return to Verminasia. Not even considering that Ebyn alone, with only Penthus and Khar’an’s faint aid, had healed her lung, physically calling her God to fill her once more and keep her from death, when those in Verminasia had merely patched it. Not even considering that, she knew she had been forced, been drawn from those walls and there was nothing remaining there for her.

But now...she knew not what to do. She had agreed to remain in Arkane for once reason only: Penthus. She had no true desire to linger in that city, but it was the only option she saw. And yet, she could not see a step further than that decision, could not even see a way to live her life there. It was as if that one choice, that one step had stripped away all her future paths...And she did not know where Necrucifer wished her...all she could feel was an overwhelming sense of loss and confusion, like her existence was crumbling around her and there was no way to catch all the pieces before they shattered...

'My Lord, my God, my True Father...Your child has been broken. Her body is but a faint thought beside the mental strain tearing her apart. You saved my life this eve, for I felt Your energy, Your being coursing through me...I pray now that You will take my splintered spirit into your hands and guide your broken, bleeding, angel who has gone astray...'

The unspoken prayer echoed in her mind, but lay silent in the dim shrine.

'My True Father, show me my path, allow me to prove myself to You and find a way to continue my service even in this life I have chosen...I lay my sword once more before You, for You, and beg for Your acceptance...

Darkness slowly began to swirl behind her closed eyes, the forgotten sensation more familiar than the touch of her own hand. And she knew, knew what she had to do...her answer had come...

'Deprive yourself of your strength, your security, your dependence...Take away what you have always relied upon and prove that without it you are still His child...'

Slowly, Valtameri opened her eyes, shock breaking into her churning mind as she realized there were tears trembling along her eyelids. She was stunned, her breath faltering in her throat. Tears had not come since that first night she had embraced her God and the orbs had drowned from sapphire to stygian. And she gasped softly, a shuddering release of air, because that alone told her how much it would cost her.

And she would do it. Because she had to, needed to. All she could do was pray she had the strength to survive it, to serve, and that Penthus could endure it.

Penthus...he was still within the Shrine, a warm presence hovering behind her radiating worry. Ebyn had departed, but that mattered little. She simply could not allow Penthus to witness this. She had caused him so much pain, so much grief, and this would only do more...The best she could do was force him to not watch her give Blood Sacrifice...

Slowly, she opens her lips wider, whispering, 'Penthus...you do not have to stay...I will be alright...But, you may not wish to see such...'

He remained still, standing resolutely at the door, as if his mere presence would prevent anything further from befalling her. '..I will not let harm come to you..' he says softly, his tone firm.

Valtameri smiles softly, the tears trembling on her eyes, unwilling to be shed. 'Please, Penthus....I know you would not...but this is not something that can be stopped...and I do not want you to see this...'

Penthus continues to gaze at her for a moment, his eyes filled with pity and sadness. He turns and steps out of the temple, turning his back to the entrance.

With the fading of his footsteps, the chill in the air seemed to intensify, his warmth leaving the shrine empty but for the pounding of blood in her ears. Unsheathing her blades, she laid one, the longsword, out before her. Taking the sabre, she closed her eyes once more, and sliced open her left palm, drawing her hand down the razored blade, coating the edge with blood. Slowly, she repeats the action, cutting open her right this time. She lays the blade down parallel to the other and feels more than anything else another enter the Shrine. She didn’t even bother to look; she already knew it was Penthus. His presence slid over her skin, comforting her somehow, in some way she couldn’t explain and didn’t want to try. She remained motionless, her head lowered and her hands held before her, streams of ruby coursing down her forearms. After a moment, she felt Penthus move away, his voice drifting back to her, a whisper of sadness: '..Do not do anything.. Too rash.' His steps disappear into the night and she laughs softly, bitterly, a single tear sliding from her eye...

Some time later, Valtameri blinked slowly, her eyes focusing on the Shrine ceiling. Her mind felt hazy, thick, but somewhere the idea that she had lost more blood than was healthy surfaced. She had to return, have the wounds tended. She had avoided arteries, but with the amount of cuts, it was likely not to matter. She thought of Penthus, still outside waiting...but no...couldn’t let him see her like this...he wouldn’t understand, would have her healed, would care too much...Ebyn...

'Commander...Ebyn...come get me...from the Shrine...can’t move...too much blood loss...'

The response was quick. He sounded angry. 'Valtameri? What are you rambling about? What happened?'

'Blood Sacrifice...had to remove my strength...as a penance...as a proof...I must heal the wounds without another’s curing...please, Comma-...Ebyn...come, take me back...I don’t want Pen to see me like this...'

He said something else, but the words were too heated, too enraged. Something about her ripping open what he had bled to save. He sounded like she had earlier, infuriated, and the irony of it seemed to dominate her mind. She grinned faintly, mumbling, 'We can pulverize each other later...but if you want me alive...then come get me...'

Somehow she knew he would and all she wanted to do at that point was sleep…but she had to tell Penthus, tell him something.

'Pen...Com-Ebyn is coming…wait for him Pen...do not come in here...if you never listen to me again...do not come in here...'

'Valta!'

She winced and suddenly she could hear noises outside...voices, male voices raised in anger...a thump she could hear even inside, like a body being thrown to the ground and then footsteps racing down the aisle toward her. One set.

Rolling her eyes to the side she saw Ebyn standing over her, rage, shock, and perhaps even worry rolling over his face. She inhaled deeply, making herself whisper, 'Bind the wounds…don’t let them heal me...and tell Pen...it will be alright...' As the last word slipped from her lips, she passed out into welcoming blackness.

The sight lying before Ebyn was grisly in the kindest of terms. It looked as if the woman had tried to butcher herself and nearly succeeded. She lay in a pool of scarlet blood, all of it her own. Her clothes had been shredded with much of her skin. Slashes coated her arms, numerous and still seeping crimson. Her palms were sliced open and looked torn apart, the calloused flesh in tatters. A large ‘x’ was carved into her chest over her heart. Her calves and midsection looked aright, but her thighs had been stabbed straight through, somehow missing both bones and major veins. And, another cut now lay across her pale face, over her smooth cheek, and crossing the bottom of the scar splitting her right eye.

She had passed out. Ebyn would have dragged her up, slapping her about till she woke up simply so he could yell at her once more, but it would have been pointless. She needed help and healing...but he knew it could not be given. What she had done was stupid, insane, but it was also purely for her faith.

He growled loudly, kneeling beside her and gripping her now-ruined shirt. He quickly set to binding what cuts he could with strips of the cobalt silk and in the end pulled off his own cloak to wrap around her, covering her. He gently lifted her up and carried her outside to where Penthus was waiting.

The elf looked worse the wear for his recent introduction to the ground, but he didn’t seem to care. His eyes trembled with worry, fright, and unshed tears as he reached out to Valtameri, gasping at the blood covering her face and dyeing the white streak of her hair a deep cherry.

'Valt!' he cried, trying to grab her from Ebyn. 'What happened? Valta!?'

Ebyn grimaced, shifting the woman so he could grip Penthus by the collar, shaking the elf. He glared at the other man’s stricken face, Valtameri’s words still weighing in his ears. 'She’ll be alright. But we must get her back to the city.'

Valtameri awoke in a room, sunk into a thick pile of blankets and pillows. She gazed slowly around her, trying to remember how she got there. Shifting her body slightly, she realized that the blankets and a vast assortment of bandages were all she wore. She blinked, but decided it didn’t really matter. Slowly, she remembered...the Blood Sacrifice, Penthus, Ebyn...she had passed out and now was here. Attempting to stretch her muscles further, she was rewarded with sharp pains fading to dull aches all over. They hadn’t healed her...

Slowly, she closed her eyes, and forced herself not to cry.