The Blood of Vampire: Chapter 19 - The Throne of Celestial Ash
Jatex and Ryn finally reached the base of the Crystal Spire—a natural fortress of quartz that glowed faintly, radiating an oppressive sense of spiritual Order.
"This is it, Jatex," Ryn whispered, exhausted. "The Gem of Frozen Tears is at the very top. The entire spire is a natural spiritual amplifier. Your chaos will be magnified a thousand times up there."
The environment itself was the final defense. The crushing Order made Jatex's Shadow-Blood Weave feel heavy, slow, and sluggish. The Thirst raged silently, demanding a violent, chaotic Siphon to break the spiritual pressure, but Jatex resisted.
He knew he couldn't use chaos. He had to use Stillness.
He closed his eyes and performed a deep Siphon of Acceptance—consuming the brutal, cold fact of his life as a monster. He forced his Weave into a state of absolute, icy discipline.
He scaled the sheer quartz face, not with the chaotic blur of a Shadow-Leap, but with the slow, agonizing precision of an insect. Every movement was a struggle against the overwhelming spiritual current that demanded he submit to Law.
He finally reached the pinnacle, a small, circular platform of perfectly smooth quartz. In the center, resting on a pedestal carved from pure crystal, sat the Gem of Frozen Tears. It was a fist-sized diamond, pale blue and radiating a silent, crushing cold.
The spiritual pressure was agonizing. The Gem demanded a sacrifice of all internal turbulence. It demanded Purity.
Jatex looked at the Gem, then at his own trembling hand. He was a creature of consumed agony and self-hatred. He was the antithesis of purity.
He reached out and, with a shuddering gasp, placed his hand directly on the Gem of Frozen Tears.
The contact was not a shockwave, not a blast of power. It was an overwhelming, sudden SILENCE. The Thirst instantly stopped screaming. The Siphon of Grief vanished. His chaotic, turbulent Shadow-Blood Weave seized, frozen instantly in a crystalline cage of spiritual Stillness.
Jatex was frozen in place, utterly rigid, his heart barely beating. The boy, the monster, and the agony were all locked away, leaving only a vessel of perfect, icy discipline. The Price of Stillness had been paid.