"Why not?"
Lily's cheerful voice that somehow ignores the reality of our situation digs into my mind, and I feel hints of fury boil within at her callousness. Pivoting my attention to her alabaster skin, I open my mouth but pause. Those red pupils of hers radiate such... naivety that it completely halts my steaming rage.
She reminds me much of myself, even if it wasn't that long ago. She's killed people, devoured souls, and satiated herself on the lives of hundreds, if not thousands. And yet... she is unfazed. The benefit of not being born human, I suppose.
Regardless, I can't be frustrated with her after just a moment of thought, especially with how she scoots closer to me, staring right back into my eyes.
"Why not, Wyatt?"
With a hearty sigh, I tell her one of the many reasons—the one that weighs heaviest upon my conscience. The hurt comes out rapidly from my mouth, ending with me holding my forehead with one palm.
"Virgil's going to die of dehydration soon. We're stuck in this cave, and Blodwyn can supplement me partially, at least enough for another few weeks, but Virgil's fading. I—I don't know what to do."
Lily twists her head curiously at my thoughts as if confused by my indecision or lack of knowledge. Looking around, she points right at me with her petite nail, ending with a sharp point. The nail is colored a deep crimson as if painted to hint toward something.
"Why don't you share your water?"
This time, I can't help but tsk with a measure of annoyance. Really? She had to have misunderstood me. She must still have issues seeing the outside world, after all.
"We're out of water, Lily. I don't have any to share. I already gave him all I had."
Lily, however, doesn't seem so sure. Reaching forward while I sit still, she taps her elongated nail against my chest, motioning for my heart.
"Uh uh. You didn't share it all. Your blood. Isn't that kind of like water? Or am I wrong? No... I think I'm right."
My blood?
That doesn't sound right. A thousand problems spring up in my mind, simply from things I've heard from being around Earl while he treats others.
"What about infection? Can he even drink it? And... what about us? That's going to drain us quickly."
Lily's only answer to my questions is a shrug. She slinks back onto the bed of flowers, her hair spreading out in every direction like the petals she lies upon. Then, she lays out her arms in a similar fashion, Ether slowly shifting around her hands.
"Dunno. All that stuff is your job, but is it better he dies now of dehydration or later because he gets sick? Oh, you should see this new skill I'm working on! It's based on that big sandy glove thing that weird old man who turned young did!"
Placing my fingers on the bridge of my nose, I try to recollect her rapid-fire burst of sentences that leave in less than a second as dark red petals begin to rise from her hair into the air. They hover with a threatening attitude but with one that doesn't seem angled toward me in any fashion.
The crimson petals float sideways, crossing each other as if kissing before clumping and attaching fully. Her two other skills are entirely meant to help me defend myself and strike back with ruthless efficiency, but Lily must have seen something in the way Vincent captured Hurakan.
I watch with close attention as the petals gather around her right arm, the one she was waving crazily as it slowly stops moving before being wholly still while encompassed by the petals. To force her arm with the strength she possesses in this realm... if it's not simply a measure of her imagination, that is quite substantial. It doesn't seem complete, however, as I see her face scrunching up before she lets out a gasp.
"Ah! Sorry. I can't make that many petals yet. For some reason, they are harder to manipulate than the river... I hate it. I'm Lily! Why can't I control the smaller Lillies!"
My head moves on its own in a side-to-side manner before I move over and offer a hand to help her to her feet. She stares up at me with a smile, then takes my hand, practically flying to a stand.
"Isn't it awesome, though! You think one day I can do what that weird man did!?"
Gazing at her cheerfulness with the vastness of the Cardinal's waters in my peripheral, I simply nod with a smile before speaking. Those waters have no end. They may not be The Endless, but... It is not impossible, but I don't think it is likely to happen within my lifetime. Vincent is, by all standards, a monster among monsters. Lily grows slowly with her Ether manipulation. And because of her nature, this Colt will be around long after I'm gone. That... that is something I am sure of.
"Of course. It'll just be a long, long road. You'll have to learn more than just that skill, though. Everything you learn will help you advance toward that. The small steps add up to big ones."
Lily nods back up and down rapidly before depositing a bit of wisdom I've honestly been enjoying not thinking about for a few minutes.
"Yeah! That makes sense! So, feeding Virgil your blood would be like taking small steps to help him survive, right? So, that eventually, you can do something to make him all better, right!?"
My teeth slice across my lips without drawing blood, thanks to the nature of Lily's dreaming realm. She's partially correct, even in her ignorance. I need to buy as much time for Virgil as possible.
But... that's enough worrisome talk.
I need to relax and think through what's happened.
"Yeah. Yeah, I'll try that. But can we slow down on that stuff? I just want to lie down."
Lily's energy drops suddenly, yet she nods with rapt attention before stepping to the water's edge. Furrowing my brows, I give her only a few seconds of attention before taking my time to find a comfortable spot on the bed of flowers.
I simply stare at the featureless night above as the splashing and flopping of water is not far from me.
So much has happened in just the past day, let alone the past several. But... I should focus on the past twenty-four hours.
The attack on Eli's property went quite well. No one was killed or even seriously hurt. In fact, Kate advanced to Angelhood. Everything after that, however, briskly went downhill.
All of us were fatigued before we even got to Blackstone from Blackcrink. I was on the verge of using Burdenless, Virgil was walking funny, Edward was short of breath, Lennon and Johnny were red-faced, and Tomas was the only one not tired from the multi-mile sprint. Bonfire was the most exhausted of us all due to the nature of his Sigil with short bursts of extreme power, but he held on nonetheless while Skyswain flew without a hitch.
Of the people we met in Blackstone who showed up while we were gone, few lived. I didn't see one of the duo of old men die back there, but only one came back to the train afterward, while the other carried an extra necklace on his neck when I saw him. Laura, the woman that both Lennon and Edward seemed to know, was the only one from her trio to hobble onto the train as well.
The many Angels and invading figures from the Alliance of the three races wore us down in less than an hour. We were so heavily outmatched that Edward had to double up on foes, and 6th Sigileds were fighting Angels. But we couldn't retreat. To do so meant condemning all those slower than us to death by the horde. That included people like Elizabeth and Esther. People like Virgil's family.
Nonetheless, we eked out a victory only because Aniwye was there. Her reasons are constantly shifting, odd, and inscrutable, but I know that, in the end, she wants to see my father. That fact makes it somewhat easy to predict and trust her. Well, trust is a strong word.
Without her, though... we would have died. Even if her 'slot' of Virtue was unfilled, we would have all died. Perhaps... perhaps Edward could have escaped, but the rest of us would have certainly died. The man told me that himself, after all.
He's strong—very strong. But he can't cross boundaries with such little time to prepare or improve his Sigil as Lennon can. He's called a monster for a reason—just like Vincent.
I can see the similarities between them beyond their strengths. The unwavering pride that narrows to the fine point of becoming arrogance instead is so blatantly obvious that I sometimes wonder how they reached their respective heights. Yet, I know the truth. It is that exact overconfidence that gives them such strength. Ether moves toward the beat of one's mind and one's rhythm. If a person believes themself invincible, it is likely to make them more so.
I'll have to thank Aniwye when I see her again. She saved us, and despite what she might say, she didn't have to. An Angel as powerful as her could surely find her own way to the Underworld to search for my father.
Needing me had to have been an excuse to save me.
Aniwye cares.
She probably just feels she has to hide it. Or maybe... that care is still a false one, extended by her love for my father. Either way... I'll take it.
Best not to upset the savior of your life and the lives of all those you care for. I hope she's doing fine. The demon didn't look too healthy the last time I saw her.
While I'm lost in thought, Lily falls to the ground beside me, a light grin on her face. The fangs in her mouth show as always, but the girl joins me in staring at the starless sky noiselessly.
Nodding to her, I ask her a question I've wanted to know since I fell asleep in the cave.
"Did you get Edward's soul?"
Lily's head twists, facing me directly as her lip pouts and her eyes tremble. Before she even says the answer, I know it.
No.
"No..."
Of course. Both of the Dudleys I cared for died beside me. Now, all that remains of their family is Dawn, Edward's wife. I need to get to her. I need to make sure she's safe.
It's my duty, right?
I think so.
I still can't believe he died like that. It was so quick. So easy. So... pitiful. Even Angels are fragile things that can be broken with just a little nudge. Only artifacts are genuinely durable.
Am I the exception? Or is it my family?
Everyone else seems so delicate compared to me. I get beat, broken, bloodletted, and every injury imaginable at once, but I stand regardless. What is the difference?
What makes me unique?
What makes my father unique?
The Dudley family seems exceptionally gifted with Ether. The Grimes are skilled with craftsmanship and weapons, while the Harveys seem abundant with talent. What is the difference?
Why are we so damned hard to put six feet under?
I stare out into the endless sky, devoid of a moon, stars, or any feature whatsoever. No answer comes to my mind that truly makes sense.
Just as demons are more robust than the average human, I suppose some humans are born differently. A phrase from my father, one of the very few I know of, comes to my mind as the darkness begins to take me once more, my sleep coming to an end.
"You were simply born with heavier shoulders."
*************************
The dark cave greets me once more as I flutter my eyes open. Without waiting a moment, I sit up and hurry to Virgil. My knees scrape the rock beneath us, and I place myself right beside him. Once there, I check how he is doing.
Even freshly awoken, my hands rapidly begin to shake with adrenaline due to our situation, but I force them to still. Then, I press my palm against the chest of my comatose friend, his shallow breaths a ticking clock of his dire circumstance. As I consider his condition, I check my own and nod as I'm mostly rejuvenated. Much of my flesh is still damaged, and I ache all over with my eyes still somewhat fatigued. Even still, it's not all that bad after my rest. Who knows how many hours I slept, but I'm glad I got any.
Shaking my head, however, I force myself to focus and remove my hand from his chest. Then, I bring a sharp edge from my broken prosthetic to my left hand, flinching as I shove the point into my flesh. Drawing the makeshift blade across, I open my hand for blood to flow. I stare at it for a moment as the liquid gathers in my hand before I turn to Virgil's sleeping facade. Pushing aside the searing pain in my hand, a result of the crude self-inflicted wound, I cup my hand and position it so that the blood will flow into his mouth.
The solution is crude, disgusting, and likely to get him sick or some other condition, but I don't know any better. Blodwyn can make more blood for me but can't make water. I don't know how it all works, and frankly, I don't want to. I'll just take his innate Sigil skills as a boon.
A crimson rivulet trickles from the gash in my palm, forming a macabre drink for the unconscious man. Watching my blood move under my ministrations feels so bizarre, but I don't halt it. The blood, warm and pulsating, drops rhythmically into Virgil's slightly open mouth, the metallic tang mingling with the faint scent of the cave's earthy air.
Alarm rises in my mind for a moment as I consider that something might sense the blood, but I remember the film Blodwyn has installed on the entrance. I don't know how much longer it will last without his upkeep, but it should keep in smell for now.
Each droplet falls with utter quiet as I observe life leave my body in hopes of rejuvenating my friend's weakening frame. I'm used to losing blood, so I'm able to force past the early warning signs of losing my essence. But I am still acutely aware of the vertiginous sensation sweeping over me as my own strength wanes. With each passing moment, my vision blurs, and the cave's walls seem to waver, their outlines growing increasingly indistinct.
I keep my gaze locked onto the flow of blood, repeatedly telling myself that I have to do this. It's slowly draining me, and Blodwyn can't rejuvenate us forever. But I cannot afford to relent. Virgil's life hangs in the balance, a fragile thread threatened by the onslaught of the Ether nestled deeply within his flesh and our locked environment. Pushing through the pain and fatigue that is rapidly setting in, I pull back and let Blodwyn seal my hand, stemming the blood loss.
Then, as I almost collapse onto the cave's wall behind him, still careful not to make too much noise, I realize that I'm not done yet. I still have to treat him. However, a thought does blossom during this wooziness.
"Is there any way you can help him with the blood we spilled? It did come from you, after all."
Once more, I plead for Blodwyn's help as I feel guilty. All I do is ask for his aid. Especially since he woke up, but I'm not in much of a position to do anything else. He likes to eat artifacts, but the only ones we have here are Lily and Virgil's daggers. Perhaps when Virgil wakes up and gives permission, Blodwyn can feast.
Yet, as I hoped, Blodwyn can do a little, just not yet. The blood has to be digested before anything can happen. Only after that can Blodwyn have some measure of control over the recipient's blood. How insidious. We'll have to try that out someday on someone nasty.
After confirming with him, I delve into Insight once more, the agony of Acute Ether saturation gradually getting to me. And the exhaustion beset by exsanguinating myself for Virgil only makes it a dozen times more difficult. Every second, I fight to stay awake as all I want to do is sleep, even while Blodwyn rejuvenates me with more blood.
As the minutes stretch into hours, I labor to maintain my fragile grip on consciousness, fighting the creeping darkness that threatens to envelop me. Gradually, however, my efforts are rewarded as Virgil's breathing steadies, and color slowly returns to his pallid cheeks.
Finally. Some progress. It's not a lot, only a bit of better breathing and some color, but it's better than nothing. I fall back onto the cave of the wall as I finally make an error that has my eyes open to the top of my head.
A chunk of rock breaks off above me from my impact and falls toward the ground. Lunging forward, I reach to catch it, but my wobbling vision misguides me, and I utterly miss, leaving it to crash into the ground and splinter everywhere.
The sound hangs still in the small cave for only a moment before I hear a dozen crackling limbs.
My eyes move to Virgil, and then to his knives. Just in case, I grab his 5th Flamme dagger instead of his 6th.
"Why not?"
Lily's cheerful voice that somehow ignores the reality of our situation digs into my mind, and I feel hints of fury boil within at her callousness. Pivoting my attention to her alabaster skin, I open my mouth but pause. Those red pupils of hers radiate such... naivety that it completely halts my steaming rage.
She reminds me much of myself, even if it wasn't that long ago. She's killed people, devoured souls, and satiated herself on the lives of hundreds, if not thousands. And yet... she is unfazed. The benefit of not being born human, I suppose.
Regardless, I can't be frustrated with her after just a moment of thought, especially with how she scoots closer to me, staring right back into my eyes.
"Why not, Wyatt?"
With a hearty sigh, I tell her one of the many reasons—the one that weighs heaviest upon my conscience. The hurt comes out rapidly from my mouth, ending with me holding my forehead with one palm.
"Virgil's going to die of dehydration soon. We're stuck in this cave, and Blodwyn can supplement me partially, at least enough for another few weeks, but Virgil's fading. I—I don't know what to do."
Lily twists her head curiously at my thoughts as if confused by my indecision or lack of knowledge. Looking around, she points right at me with her petite nail, ending with a sharp point. The nail is colored a deep crimson as if painted to hint toward something.
"Why don't you share your water?"
This time, I can't help but tsk with a measure of annoyance. Really? She had to have misunderstood me. She must still have issues seeing the outside world, after all.
"We're out of water, Lily. I don't have any to share. I already gave him all I had."
Lily, however, doesn't seem so sure. Reaching forward while I sit still, she taps her elongated nail against my chest, motioning for my heart.
"Uh uh. You didn't share it all. Your blood. Isn't that kind of like water? Or am I wrong? No... I think I'm right."
My blood?
That doesn't sound right. A thousand problems spring up in my mind, simply from things I've heard from being around Earl while he treats others.
"What about infection? Can he even drink it? And... what about us? That's going to drain us quickly."
Lily's only answer to my questions is a shrug. She slinks back onto the bed of flowers, her hair spreading out in every direction like the petals she lies upon. Then, she lays out her arms in a similar fashion, Ether slowly shifting around her hands.
"Dunno. All that stuff is your job, but is it better he dies now of dehydration or later because he gets sick? Oh, you should see this new skill I'm working on! It's based on that big sandy glove thing that weird old man who turned young did!"
Placing my fingers on the bridge of my nose, I try to recollect her rapid-fire burst of sentences that leave in less than a second as dark red petals begin to rise from her hair into the air. They hover with a threatening attitude but with one that doesn't seem angled toward me in any fashion.
The crimson petals float sideways, crossing each other as if kissing before clumping and attaching fully. Her two other skills are entirely meant to help me defend myself and strike back with ruthless efficiency, but Lily must have seen something in the way Vincent captured Hurakan.
I watch with close attention as the petals gather around her right arm, the one she was waving crazily as it slowly stops moving before being wholly still while encompassed by the petals. To force her arm with the strength she possesses in this realm... if it's not simply a measure of her imagination, that is quite substantial. It doesn't seem complete, however, as I see her face scrunching up before she lets out a gasp.
"Ah! Sorry. I can't make that many petals yet. For some reason, they are harder to manipulate than the river... I hate it. I'm Lily! Why can't I control the smaller Lillies!"
My head moves on its own in a side-to-side manner before I move over and offer a hand to help her to her feet. She stares up at me with a smile, then takes my hand, practically flying to a stand.
"Isn't it awesome, though! You think one day I can do what that weird man did!?"
Gazing at her cheerfulness with the vastness of the Cardinal's waters in my peripheral, I simply nod with a smile before speaking. Those waters have no end. They may not be The Endless, but... It is not impossible, but I don't think it is likely to happen within my lifetime. Vincent is, by all standards, a monster among monsters. Lily grows slowly with her Ether manipulation. And because of her nature, this Colt will be around long after I'm gone. That... that is something I am sure of.
"Of course. It'll just be a long, long road. You'll have to learn more than just that skill, though. Everything you learn will help you advance toward that. The small steps add up to big ones."
Lily nods back up and down rapidly before depositing a bit of wisdom I've honestly been enjoying not thinking about for a few minutes.
"Yeah! That makes sense! So, feeding Virgil your blood would be like taking small steps to help him survive, right? So, that eventually, you can do something to make him all better, right!?"
My teeth slice across my lips without drawing blood, thanks to the nature of Lily's dreaming realm. She's partially correct, even in her ignorance. I need to buy as much time for Virgil as possible.
But... that's enough worrisome talk.
I need to relax and think through what's happened.
"Yeah. Yeah, I'll try that. But can we slow down on that stuff? I just want to lie down."
Lily's energy drops suddenly, yet she nods with rapt attention before stepping to the water's edge. Furrowing my brows, I give her only a few seconds of attention before taking my time to find a comfortable spot on the bed of flowers.
I simply stare at the featureless night above as the splashing and flopping of water is not far from me.
So much has happened in just the past day, let alone the past several. But... I should focus on the past twenty-four hours.
The attack on Eli's property went quite well. No one was killed or even seriously hurt. In fact, Kate advanced to Angelhood. Everything after that, however, briskly went downhill.
All of us were fatigued before we even got to Blackstone from Blackcrink. I was on the verge of using Burdenless, Virgil was walking funny, Edward was short of breath, Lennon and Johnny were red-faced, and Tomas was the only one not tired from the multi-mile sprint. Bonfire was the most exhausted of us all due to the nature of his Sigil with short bursts of extreme power, but he held on nonetheless while Skyswain flew without a hitch.
Of the people we met in Blackstone who showed up while we were gone, few lived. I didn't see one of the duo of old men die back there, but only one came back to the train afterward, while the other carried an extra necklace on his neck when I saw him. Laura, the woman that both Lennon and Edward seemed to know, was the only one from her trio to hobble onto the train as well.
The many Angels and invading figures from the Alliance of the three races wore us down in less than an hour. We were so heavily outmatched that Edward had to double up on foes, and 6th Sigileds were fighting Angels. But we couldn't retreat. To do so meant condemning all those slower than us to death by the horde. That included people like Elizabeth and Esther. People like Virgil's family.
Nonetheless, we eked out a victory only because Aniwye was there. Her reasons are constantly shifting, odd, and inscrutable, but I know that, in the end, she wants to see my father. That fact makes it somewhat easy to predict and trust her. Well, trust is a strong word.
Without her, though... we would have died. Even if her 'slot' of Virtue was unfilled, we would have all died. Perhaps... perhaps Edward could have escaped, but the rest of us would have certainly died. The man told me that himself, after all.
He's strong—very strong. But he can't cross boundaries with such little time to prepare or improve his Sigil as Lennon can. He's called a monster for a reason—just like Vincent.
I can see the similarities between them beyond their strengths. The unwavering pride that narrows to the fine point of becoming arrogance instead is so blatantly obvious that I sometimes wonder how they reached their respective heights. Yet, I know the truth. It is that exact overconfidence that gives them such strength. Ether moves toward the beat of one's mind and one's rhythm. If a person believes themself invincible, it is likely to make them more so.
I'll have to thank Aniwye when I see her again. She saved us, and despite what she might say, she didn't have to. An Angel as powerful as her could surely find her own way to the Underworld to search for my father.
Needing me had to have been an excuse to save me.
Aniwye cares.
She probably just feels she has to hide it. Or maybe... that care is still a false one, extended by her love for my father. Either way... I'll take it.
Best not to upset the savior of your life and the lives of all those you care for. I hope she's doing fine. The demon didn't look too healthy the last time I saw her.
While I'm lost in thought, Lily falls to the ground beside me, a light grin on her face. The fangs in her mouth show as always, but the girl joins me in staring at the starless sky noiselessly.
Nodding to her, I ask her a question I've wanted to know since I fell asleep in the cave.
"Did you get Edward's soul?"
Lily's head twists, facing me directly as her lip pouts and her eyes tremble. Before she even says the answer, I know it.
No.
"No..."
Of course. Both of the Dudleys I cared for died beside me. Now, all that remains of their family is Dawn, Edward's wife. I need to get to her. I need to make sure she's safe.
It's my duty, right?
I think so.
I still can't believe he died like that. It was so quick. So easy. So... pitiful. Even Angels are fragile things that can be broken with just a little nudge. Only artifacts are genuinely durable.
Am I the exception? Or is it my family?
Everyone else seems so delicate compared to me. I get beat, broken, bloodletted, and every injury imaginable at once, but I stand regardless. What is the difference?
What makes me unique?
What makes my father unique?
The Dudley family seems exceptionally gifted with Ether. The Grimes are skilled with craftsmanship and weapons, while the Harveys seem abundant with talent. What is the difference?
Why are we so damned hard to put six feet under?
I stare out into the endless sky, devoid of a moon, stars, or any feature whatsoever. No answer comes to my mind that truly makes sense.
Just as demons are more robust than the average human, I suppose some humans are born differently. A phrase from my father, one of the very few I know of, comes to my mind as the darkness begins to take me once more, my sleep coming to an end.
"You were simply born with heavier shoulders."
*************************
The dark cave greets me once more as I flutter my eyes open. Without waiting a moment, I sit up and hurry to Virgil. My knees scrape the rock beneath us, and I place myself right beside him. Once there, I check how he is doing.
Even freshly awoken, my hands rapidly begin to shake with adrenaline due to our situation, but I force them to still. Then, I press my palm against the chest of my comatose friend, his shallow breaths a ticking clock of his dire circumstance. As I consider his condition, I check my own and nod as I'm mostly rejuvenated. Much of my flesh is still damaged, and I ache all over with my eyes still somewhat fatigued. Even still, it's not all that bad after my rest. Who knows how many hours I slept, but I'm glad I got any.
Shaking my head, however, I force myself to focus and remove my hand from his chest. Then, I bring a sharp edge from my broken prosthetic to my left hand, flinching as I shove the point into my flesh. Drawing the makeshift blade across, I open my hand for blood to flow. I stare at it for a moment as the liquid gathers in my hand before I turn to Virgil's sleeping facade. Pushing aside the searing pain in my hand, a result of the crude self-inflicted wound, I cup my hand and position it so that the blood will flow into his mouth.
The solution is crude, disgusting, and likely to get him sick or some other condition, but I don't know any better. Blodwyn can make more blood for me but can't make water. I don't know how it all works, and frankly, I don't want to. I'll just take his innate Sigil skills as a boon.
A crimson rivulet trickles from the gash in my palm, forming a macabre drink for the unconscious man. Watching my blood move under my ministrations feels so bizarre, but I don't halt it. The blood, warm and pulsating, drops rhythmically into Virgil's slightly open mouth, the metallic tang mingling with the faint scent of the cave's earthy air.
Alarm rises in my mind for a moment as I consider that something might sense the blood, but I remember the film Blodwyn has installed on the entrance. I don't know how much longer it will last without his upkeep, but it should keep in smell for now.
Each droplet falls with utter quiet as I observe life leave my body in hopes of rejuvenating my friend's weakening frame. I'm used to losing blood, so I'm able to force past the early warning signs of losing my essence. But I am still acutely aware of the vertiginous sensation sweeping over me as my own strength wanes. With each passing moment, my vision blurs, and the cave's walls seem to waver, their outlines growing increasingly indistinct.
I keep my gaze locked onto the flow of blood, repeatedly telling myself that I have to do this. It's slowly draining me, and Blodwyn can't rejuvenate us forever. But I cannot afford to relent. Virgil's life hangs in the balance, a fragile thread threatened by the onslaught of the Ether nestled deeply within his flesh and our locked environment. Pushing through the pain and fatigue that is rapidly setting in, I pull back and let Blodwyn seal my hand, stemming the blood loss.
Then, as I almost collapse onto the cave's wall behind him, still careful not to make too much noise, I realize that I'm not done yet. I still have to treat him. However, a thought does blossom during this wooziness.
"Is there any way you can help him with the blood we spilled? It did come from you, after all."
Once more, I plead for Blodwyn's help as I feel guilty. All I do is ask for his aid. Especially since he woke up, but I'm not in much of a position to do anything else. He likes to eat artifacts, but the only ones we have here are Lily and Virgil's daggers. Perhaps when Virgil wakes up and gives permission, Blodwyn can feast.
Yet, as I hoped, Blodwyn can do a little, just not yet. The blood has to be digested before anything can happen. Only after that can Blodwyn have some measure of control over the recipient's blood. How insidious. We'll have to try that out someday on someone nasty.
After confirming with him, I delve into Insight once more, the agony of Acute Ether saturation gradually getting to me. And the exhaustion beset by exsanguinating myself for Virgil only makes it a dozen times more difficult. Every second, I fight to stay awake as all I want to do is sleep, even while Blodwyn rejuvenates me with more blood.
As the minutes stretch into hours, I labor to maintain my fragile grip on consciousness, fighting the creeping darkness that threatens to envelop me. Gradually, however, my efforts are rewarded as Virgil's breathing steadies, and color slowly returns to his pallid cheeks.
Finally. Some progress. It's not a lot, only a bit of better breathing and some color, but it's better than nothing. I fall back onto the cave of the wall as I finally make an error that has my eyes open to the top of my head.
A chunk of rock breaks off above me from my impact and falls toward the ground. Lunging forward, I reach to catch it, but my wobbling vision misguides me, and I utterly miss, leaving it to crash into the ground and splinter everywhere.
The sound hangs still in the small cave for only a moment before I hear a dozen crackling limbs.
My eyes move to Virgil, and then to his knives. Just in case, I grab his 5th Flamme dagger instead of his 6th.
