Chapter Seven

Bloodline

Mraize felt Ezra die.

The realization struck him like a blow from the Matriarch herself, bringing him to one knee as the mountain shuddered around him. His Soul quivered, the echo of her death sweeping through his meridian channels in an icy breeze. It left him numb and hollow and for a moment, his lungs refused to draw breath. He stared down the empty corridor, thankful none had been present to witness his fall. Though, he was certain the whole of the mountain had been stunned.

He sensed the panic of its inhabitants as keenly as if it were his own and he understood.

Arcs weren’t meant to die, but when they did, a bit of their world crumbled.

Now, he was well and truly alone. The last Arc of the Sanguine Court, sole guardian of his people. For the first time in centuries, he faced uncertainty. Fear. Fear that as powerful as he was, it wouldn’t be enough to stop what he knew was coming. The Pact had been broken and without a new generation of Arcs to uphold it, it was only a matter of time before the Rifts spread.

He drew a ragged breath, willing his meridians back under his control. His dynamic channels withdrew to reinforce the static channels of his individual meridian cores, isolating his essences and cycling them anew. Once their rhythm had been restored, he stretched his dynamic channels and bridged the connections between his mind, body and spirit until they became one, unified system once more. The whole process took less than a minute, but to an Arc, it might as well have been an eternity.

Steadying himself, he smoothed his red and black robes, ran a clawed hand through his long, yellow hair and took a moment to ensure his Soul was properly Shrouded. He would have to address the Court. Now that Ezra was dead, there would be questions. Some of which he knew he wouldn’t have the answers to. Having two Matriarchs die within a month was unprecedented. Arrangements would have to be made and those in his charge would have to be elevated early in order to sway the imbalance to the continent.

His lips grew thin.

Leliana’s Heir, though strong, was not yet ready to take up her mantle and Ezra had no Heirs of her own to fill her stead nor harvest her essence. Not that he had her body to do so in the first place. He could work with the former, however the latter was another matter entirely. Without a Blood Heir, he would have to build Ezra’s mantle from the ground up. Which took time. Resources were of little consequence, but raising a child through their Ascensions took precious time he wasn’t entirely sure they had.

He should have pressed harder for her to take a new Heir. But no, he had grown complacent. They all had. Then again, he had never anticipated Ezra’s betrayal. He still couldn’t fathom it, even now.

What had she to gain from Leliana’s death?

~*~

Inerys woke in a bed that was not her own, in a room she didn’t recognize, slick with sweat. Every inch of her body burned and when she bolted upright, the bed cracked beneath her. The center of the mattress sagged, each corner pitching at an odd angle as it folded in on itself. Despite the steady, stinging ache in her limbs, she pushed herself to the side to escape its embrace, only to inadvertently launch herself into a stone wall a good five or so feet from the side of the bed itself. She sucked in a startled breath, her lungs barking in protest.

Her vision was foggy at best and the light let in by the windows all but overwhelmed her sight entirely as if her eyes were being held to an active torch. Shielding her face with a trembling hand, she tried to right herself with the other and push herself up using the edge of the thick windowsill. However, the force of her arm broke the ledge and it crumbled beneath her palm.

Dazed, she tried to gain a sense of where she was and quell the heart hammering in her chest. It beat so hard, she thought it would burst free at any moment. To her horror, she realized she could hear the startled, rapid beats of a dozen other hearts nearby. Then, she suddenly heard everything: the chattering chorus of the market square a few blocks away, the shouts of alarm rising from the streets below when the walls cracked and even the scuttling of a fly along the far wall. Three sets of hurried footsteps echoed down the hall beyond the door to the room and she shoved herself into the corner so hard, the stone bricks fractured behind her.

Glowing fractals laced her skin from fingertip to elbow, leaking light in time with her heartbeat. Similar lines ran up her legs from her toes, silver and bright beneath the thin shift she found herself in. Each beat sent fire searing through her veins, her bones and something deeper still. Her breath turned ragged and it was all she could do to keep from screaming. Her jaw ached and she wondered, for a moment, if she’d been kicked by a horse. It would explain the horrible pain in her face, her head. Maybe she’d been struck senseless and this was all some sort of elaborate hallucination.

Her Sense told her it wasn’t.

It felt stronger, somehow, but she couldn’t quite place her finger on it, nor was she in the right mind to do so in the first place. The door swung open and she flinched at the sharp squeak of its hinges. A tall woman with long, pointed ears stood upon the threshold, donned in pale green robes that almost reminded Inerys of those the Sorcerers wore. This woman, though, wasn’t human. Neither were the attendants who flanked her, whose robes were sandy in hue and not nearly as elaborate by comparison. They looked upon her with wide eyes, save the woman between them.

“What’s happening to me?”

The words escaped Inerys’ lips as quickly as the thought formed. The woman in green held out her slender hands to demonstrate she wasn’t a threat and offered Inerys a warm, almost motherly smile. Her hair was pulled back into an intricately braided bun and shown like burnished gold when it caught the light. Inerys tried to focus upon the trio, yet the light was unbearable. She shied back against the wall, dust drifting down from the widening cracks, and shrouded her face as best she could. Their heartbeats were so loud, she thought her ears might rupture.

“See that one of the lower rooms is made ready,” the woman murmured to her attendants, likely her apprentices, “I can handle her from here.”

Cloth grated skin as the two bowed, then retreated, leaving the pair alone. On soft feet, the woman crossed the room and drew the curtains closed. She moved with a certain delicacy, as if each movement were carefully measured. By comparison, she was far more quiet than her attendants had been and the slightest bit of tension eased from Inerys’ shoulders as a result.

“Is this better?” The woman asked, her voice soft.

Hesitantly, Inerys withdrew her hands and nodded.

The woman stood a respectful distance away, fingers laced together before her waist. She stood with the regal poise of a queen, but absent the haughty air Inerys presumed might accompany such a bearing. Her smile was gentle, her skin a light bronze the huntress had never quite seen before. It exuded a radiant, inner light, as if the summer sun had settled just beneath the surface.

A warmth crept over Inerys, dulling the ache in her bones while soothing the acute pain wracking her body. She leaned into that warmth, wishing it would erase the pain entirely. Her Sense told her whatever this new sensation was, it had been the work of the woman before her. If she focused just enough, she thought she could sense a thread of something tying them together.

“What is your name?” The woman asked.

Inerys watched her for a moment, considering. “Inerys.”

The woman smiled. “It’s an honor to meet you, Inerys. My name is Sorisana, head of the Sage’s tower of Kresia.”

Kresia.

Why did that name sound familiar? Her assumption that she may have been taken to one of the Guild towers vanished. She wasn’t even among the city-states anymore. Once the understanding fully dawned on her, a stone settled in her gut.

“Are you a healer?”

“I am,” she said, canting her head. Her eyes were like twin emeralds. “May I come closer?”

Tucking her legs closer to her chest, Inerys nodded. She was shaking, the tremors sending lingering tendrils of pain throughout her limbs, but she kept her teeth gritted and herself silent. Sorisana approached with slow, purposeful steps, as if Inerys were some frightened animal who might bolt at the slightest provocation. It was ridiculous, but then again, she couldn’t really fault the woman, given the current situation.

“I’m not here to harm you,” she murmured, offering a hand, “I’m here to help.”

Inerys hesitated, but eventually reasoned the woman would have harmed her already, had it been her intention to do so in the first place. She took her hand, doing her best not to crush it in her own. Considering what she had done to the corner of the room and to the bed, she feared her own strength.

Effortlessly, Sorisana guided her to her feet and placed a gentle hand upon her shoulder to steady her. The woman noted the state of the bed, but didn’t appear particularly perturbed by the damage. Even still, guilt weighed on Inerys. She truly was a terrible guest.

“I’m sorry about the bed. And the wall,” she said quietly.

“There’s no need to fret. You’re stronger than I anticipated, so the blame falls to me. We have more adequate rooms elsewhere. Come, we can situate you somewhere more comfortable.”

Inerys nodded numbly, allowing herself to be led from the room and down several flights of winding stairs. She shuddered, sensing they were well and truly below ground. The sharpness of her Sense was frightening and for a moment, her panic rose anew. Sorisana soothed her with a smile.

“The walls of the lower levels are reinforced and therefore, should be able to account for your strength. Forgive us, we rarely tend patients above a certain Ascension.”

“What do you mean, Ascension?”

The woman searched her face, as though she were seeking some sort of recognition.

“Do you not have such things in the human lands?” She asked.

A cool wave ebbed through her at the reminder that she was somewhere beyond the Wilds. Ordinarily, the news might have excited her, but given the circumstances, she held her reservations. This woman was one of the Adai, as were her assistants, which meant she was far farther from home than would have guessed. The true question, though, was how she’d gotten here in the first place.

“No,” she said at length, “I suppose we don’t.”

“I see,” she said, nodding absently to herself. “An Ascension marks the growth of your Soul. A progression, if you will. With each Ascension you achieve, you grow stronger and in more than one respect.”

Inerys looked to her hands and the thin white cracks webbing her skin. “Is that why my arms look like this?”

The woman pursed her lips, her brows furrowing. “Yes and no.”

Inerys felt a thread of nausea coil in her gut. Whatever the lines meant, it wasn’t good. She’d suspected as much, but now that her thoughts were clearer, the weight settled heavy. She swallowed hard and tried to steady her breathing.

“Is there a way to fix it?”

“Come, I’ll have my students bring us some tea and I’ll do my best to explain,” Sorisana said, her words oddly soothing.

Inerys’ throat tightened, a few stray tears welling in her eyes, but she nodded. She thought of Vidaar and Nan, and what they might make of all this. How long had she been away? Her memory of the last few hours was hazy at best.

The Sage situated her in a dark, mercifully quiet room lit by a single amber stone that shone like a bright candle. It was more a small home than a single room, where Inerys had her own washroom, bath and living space. It was cozy, yet foreign to her. Though it wasn’t lavish by any stretch, she missed her little cottage at the edge of the wood. Its solid stone walls held a certain comfort she knew she wouldn’t find here.

Still, she settled herself upon one of the sofas that made up the small, pleasantly comfy living room. She tried not to focus on her hands, but instead on the woman who took up residence on the seat across from her, a short table occupying the space between them. The Sage rested her hands upon her knees and leaned forward as they awaited the tea she’d sent for moments before.

“I know this must be quite strange to you,” she began, “but do you remember what happened? How you came to us?”

Inerys fidgeted. In truth, there wasn’t much she remembered beyond the bloody woman in the woods. It had felt like a nightmare and a part of her still hoped she might wake up and find herself safe in her own bed. A foolish part of her, perhaps. Unfortunately, this was all too real.

“Bits and pieces,” she admitted, then paused.

Suddenly, she remembered the woman’s fangs, the wound in her neck. Her fingers shot to the column of her throat, but she found nothing but bare, smooth skin. She shuddered, gaze snapping toward the Sage.

“That bit was my work,” Sorisana said, “aside from a bit of pale skin, I managed to close the wound without it scarring over. I’ve mended many wounds in my time, but none quite like yours.”

“I – thank you,” Inerys said, her fingers lingering where the stranger’s teeth had once been.

She remembered her face, the long, pointed ears she and the Sage shared. Were they both Adai? She wondered. So far as she could tell, this woman didn’t possess any fangs of her own. Her canines were sharper than a human’s, sure, but nothing like the lethal points she’d encountered in the woods. She didn’t quite have words for those.

“It was my pleasure, Inerys. However, you should reserve your thanks for the man who brought you here. Without him, I fear I wouldn’t have been able to treat you,” she said.

The huntress paused. “How did I end up here?”

“A pair of Talhavar brought you to us three days ago. They didn’t go into great detail, but said you had been attacked by a Vampire in the Endari Wilds. I tried to suppress the inheritance in hopes of preventing the Turn, but I’m afraid it was beyond my skill. Whomever bit you was far stronger than I. I’m sorry.”

Dread settled over her. The Turn? Inheritance? She was going to be sick, but dared to ask, “What does that mean?”

“Your body and spirit have undergone a change and not an easy one. When it overtook you, your Soul was overwhelmed and your spiritual meridians expanded faster than your body could handle at your current Ascension. It’s the reason you have those marks upon your skin. Your Soul is slowly tearing your body apart.”

Inerys’ hands trembled. “How long do I have?”

“In your current state, a week, perhaps? I’ve been suppressing your Soul with mine, but I cannot contain it indefinitely.”

A week.

She felt cool and strangely hollow.

Sorisana reached a hand across to take hers, giving it a gentle, comforting squeeze.

“Don’t give up just yet,” she said, “there are ways to mend your body. I may not be able to provide the means necessary, but there are others who can. You’re under the protection of the Talhavar, after all. Once they return for you, I’ll be sure to have a word with them on your behalf.”

She still hadn’t the faintest idea who the Talhavar were.

“When will they return?” She asked.

“Shortly, I imagine. They’ve requested daily reports on your condition. I’ve already sent one of my assistants to notify them of your awakening, so I imagine it won’t be long before they arrive.”

“Do you know them?”

Personally? No, but I’ve done business with their faction in the past. They're an honorable sort, so there’s no reason to fret too much on that account. A bit rigid, sometimes, but they’re good people. The two who brought you here are much the same.”

Inerys nodded absently, unsure of what else to say, what else to ask. Whomever these Talhavar were, she assumed they might be able to tell her more about what had happened. At the very least, she could ask them what could be done about her current predicament. Perhaps they might help her settle in this new body she found herself in, then send her home.

After all, what use was she to them?