"Save…?"
Kiaria's voice echoed softly through the dungeon.
"Save you from what?"
Geng's fingers trembled against the edge of the water basin. His breathing was uneven, shallow, as if his chest could no longer decide whether it wanted to rise or collapse.
"From…" he whispered.
Then louder, hoarse and broken,
"From my turning."
Kiaria didn't move.
"What are you?" Kiaria asked.
Geng froze.
"Me…?" His lips parted. "What… what am I?"
The words fell apart before they could take shape. "I–I…"
He turned back toward the basin.
The reddened water lay still now, reflecting only a distorted shadow of his face. Geng stared into it, desperate for an answer, but the reflection offered nothing. No reassurance. No denial.
His breathing quickened.
Suddenly, he struck the basin.
Water splashed violently against the stone, ripples crashing into one another as his hands shook the metal edge again and again.
"Answer me!" he shouted.
The ripples didn't answer.
