The Blood of Vampire: Chapter 11 - Gathering the Wards of Syldavia
Jatex and Ryn moved with a shared, desperate rhythm through the Dragon's Claw Mountains. Jatex was the cold engine of power; Ryn was the map, the context, and the critical human intelligence.
"The Crystal Spire is ahead," Ryn whispered, pointing to a needle of quartz that pierced the distant clouds. "It's a natural geomantic anomaly, amplified by the Gem of Frozen Tears. The energy is pure, absolute Order."
Jatex nodded, his face perpetually strained from the continuous, internal Siphon of Grief. He needed to conserve every ounce of his chaotic energy for the inevitable conflict with Elder Kael.
"The Wards are Law against my Chaos,"
Jatex said, his voice flat. He forced himself to speak, knowing the silence was another form of spiritual death. "They represent the highest order of the Shadow-Blood discipline."
Ryn knelt, sketching the Wards' locations in the dust: the Gem (Stillness), the Chalice (Truth), and the Scepter (Law).
"My old contacts said the Wards were created not by the Vaelanar, but by the ancient humans who feared The Sleeper's first psychic eruption," Ryn explained. "They are containment seals. If you collect all three, you don't just get power; you get the master key to the largest containment structure on the continent."
Ryn looked at Jatex, her eyes full of cautious understanding. "What happens when you open the cell, Jatex? Does the monster inside get out, or does the curse finally stop?"
Jatex closed his eyes, summoning the searing energy of Aeliana's final moment. The Thirst greedily consumed the pain, stabilizing his chaotic Weave. He felt the cold, hard certainty return.
"The Sanguine Stain," he replied, using the technical term for his curse. "It is the fragment of the Void the Elders fear. The Wards are the only structure rigid enough to hold it. I must be contained, or I will consume everything."
His answer was terrifying in its cold self-awareness. He wasn't gathering power; he was assembling his own maximum-security prison. Ryn felt a shiver, realizing the boy she was traveling with was sacrificing his very soul for the chance at eternal stillness.
They pressed on, leaving the dusty map in the wind. The mountains loomed, and the atmosphere grew heavy with the crushing spiritual weight of pure Order.