"What happened?" Luciel sat there still, his hands covered in blood. The warm body of Violet he was holding just now lay still on the floor.
Violet, who had shielded him from the attack, lay still on the floor with a horn stick stuck in her back. Her eyes, once filled with tears, had no water in them.
The body that was trembling before had no movement in it.
Her lips that had called his name were still—still.
He slowly reached for her face and held it gently in his palm.
"Why did she save me? Shouldn't she worry about herself?
Why would she get hurt knowingly for someone else?
WHY? WHY? WHY? WHY? WHY?"
He cried out. In his chest, he felt a pain; his eyes were filled with rage...
Along with it, the demon screeched in a deathly cry.
Its disfigured body dragged itself toward him, each step cracking the cave floor. Slowly, fire started burning out from the red patches of its skin like a volcano.
It was far stronger than before. It looked at Luciel and leapt at him, its mouth slit open, teeth ready to tear any flesh.
Luciel raised his hand, and his palm burst open into a wound. The blood poured out like a flood and then turned into fine threads, completely weaving over the demon's body.
"Begone...
(SHROUD OF THE DAMNED)"
He closed his fist, and the next moment, the cocoon squeezed itself, turning into a fine sheet of red silk. The demon's whole body was now nothing more than a bleeding fabric.
His hand was still bleeding, but that pain in his hand was nothing compared to what he was feeling in his chest.
What was it? He asked himself over and over again.
"Why does my chest hurt? Why? Hey, get up! Can't you listen to me? Get up! Tell me—you're the one who is wounded! Why am I feeling this stinging ache?" Luciel screamed, holding Violet.
"Lord! She needs urgent help! We need to get her out of here!" the raven spoke.
"She won't go anywhere! She's my servant! It's just a small injury, she will—"
"She is a human!" the raven cried out, cutting the oblivious words of Luciel.
"She can still be saved, but not here," the raven spoke in a grim tone.
Luciel's eyes were still fixed on her body. His head was down, his eyelids had forgotten their work, and his breaths were roping in a storm.
"Why did she do that?" Luciel was struck by this mystery. The maelstrom of unnamed emotions was flooding his pride.
"You have also used a Requiem of the Blood Moon spell. You won't be able to use any spell until the next new moon. We need to get out of here too; I need to use my magic..." The raven spread its wings.
Luciel was hearing every word of the raven, but all his thoughts were holding onto the faint breaths of Violet.
"Alright, I'll take you to another safe place.
Remember, you won't see me for a long time. Stay there until I—"
"What about this girl?" Luciel was holding onto Violet.
"You know what, Lord Luciel? You are the only one who can save her." The raven's eyes were locked onto Luciel, and Luciel lifted her hand and pressed it against his cheek.
"I know, I will..."
Luciel gently pulled her close to him, his chest against hers.
With his bleeding palm, he pulled the horn and gently pressed her open wound.
Her white gown, which he had brought from the nearby village after a lot of her pleas, now had red blooms of her and his blood.
He closed his eyes, then brushed her silver hair off her pale neck. The blue veins on her neck looked like hydrangea blooming in a white desert.
He brought his lips close to her neck and dug his sharp fangs deep into her veins, and like drinking poison from those hydrangea, he drank her cursed blood without an ounce of hesitation.
Her chest, every next moment, slowly puffed up and then shrunk like that of a newborn. He drank just a sip and pulled himself back, like a connoisseur abandoning his thirst.
His lips turned red in the shade of her blood, and he spoke,
"It's sweet..."
The wound on her back started closing, and her breath found its pace again.
Yet her eyes were still closed.
"From now on, you're—" Luciel, looking at her, mumbled when the raven spoke again—
"Wait! She isn't reacting to your mana! Her wounds have closed up, but her mana and soul are still dwindling!"
Luciel's brows furrowed again, and his grip tightened.
"But why? I am the heir of the D'Nocthera house's blood. There's no way it won't have any effect!" he yelled out.
"It's not that, Lord. It's because of the nature of her soul. She needs light. The illness has gotten stronger in her fragile state. The miasma of this realm is working against her.
I've noticed this ever since the barrier broke—the miasma was making her illness, not the curse, stronger. The roots of her illness are deeply buried in this world..." the raven spoke, and Luciel's eyes widened in disbelief.
"So, it can't be..." Luciel held her close, as if the moment he let go of her, she'd vanish.
"Currently, your mana is still fighting within her, but the longer she stays here, the worse she'll get. So I'll take her to her own realm." The raven widened its wings, but Luciel didn't let go of her.
"No! She is my servant! I won't let her leave!" Luciel cried out.
"Even if it costs her life?" Slowly, the white feathers started flying around in a whirlwind.
Luciel's mind went blank. For him, there was only one obvious choice—to keep her for himself. That's what he was taught; that's what he had learned his whole life.
But at that moment, his heart betrayed his pride.
His hands released her, laying her on the cave floor. He swept the hair covering her face.
Now, taking a closer look, he had never seen any beauty beyond hers.
"Take her away... Far away, where these cursed winds don't touch her..." He bit his lips and lowered his gaze.
"I hope you've said your goodbye. Well then, Lord Luciel, you'll be taken to another place within this realm. Wait for me..." The whirlwind of feathers enveloped both of them, and slowly he saw Violet vanishing before his eyes.
And like a puppet wrapped in strings, his hands held Violet again, with his lips slowly pressing against hers—but before the feeling could reach him, she vanished, and he found himself in another isolated cave.
The same darkness and silence he was used to—only stillness and cold.
He grabbed his chest, where his heart was pounding.
"What is this? What is this desire to keep you all for myself? What is this wish to hold you close to me forever? I have been taught to take whatever I desire, but I can't do that to you. This desire to win you—what is this greed?
To keep you all for myself—what is this pride?
To take you away from the Realm of Night—what is envy?
What have you done to me? You're supposed to serve, yet I beseech you..."
He looked at his hand, which was bleeding and covered in freezing cold ice, with a strand of her hair.
"This cold, this ice... so you are not just any human... Princess." He sighed at his own ignorance, and like the ruler he was raised to be, his words carried a command—for himself.
"I vow, the day I'll conquer my lost throne, I will cure your curse and bring you whatever you wish.
Just come back—
No, I'll bring you back.
If this world is against your existence, if these winds are taking away your breath...
I'll change their direction and bring you back. I, Luciel D'Nocthera, the last Noble Duke of Night, make this vow."
He held the hair close to his chest. He had put his pride on the line in a vow unheard of by her.
Was this greed? Pride? Envy? Nothing—it was an emotion unbeknownst to him. But one day, he'd know its name.
---
While on the other side of this accursed world, in the Realm of Light, Violet lay under the shade of boulders stacked on each other for eras.
The sun shone bright; the winds blew dry.
Her body and mana were mending themselves, and on her neck there were still two small gaps, but they slowly turned into strange markings—the last gift by his—his...?
"Who is Luciel to me?" she had asked herself many times.
"Is this a dream?" She found herself sitting alone in darkness once again. The light she had found, she had lost again.
"Mama... Papa... Luciel... All of them are hurt... I need to..."
"Hey! Wake up!" A stern voice woke her up, nudging her.
She slowly opened her eyes and saw a boy with wolf ears and gray eyes like quartz staring at her. His mouth was wide open, sharp teeth glinting, with drool dripping on the ground.
"Hey, can I eat you?" he spoke.
"No!" she cried, and a slap from her sent him flying.