Ceila hung her head low. A sad smile across her lips, she frowns for a moment before collecting herself. With a soft movement, our eyes meet, and I can see the pain behind her ruby-like eyes. I reach out and grasp her hand, which causes a sudden jolt in her body, not knowing what to do.
"Thank you for telling me; I think I understand better now," I spoke to her softly.
"Thank you for listening to a filthy Demon like me..." Only sadness poured from her lips.
"No, you are Celia, my servant, and I see you as more than just a Demon. Please don't think that some war that happened before I was born chains you; as far as I know, you are my family, too." Celia listens intently with a warm smile and a sigh of relief. I look at her intently.
"Yes, my Lord."
"Besides, this Blood Rite is nasty business. Whatever happened, you are still the person I look to for support."
"I appreciate the sentiment, but once you consume a fellow Demon in a Blood Rite, blood or flesh, it changes you permanently. My father wanted me and my husband to perform it on each other so we would be connected beyond the bond we had built. It would make us stronger and forever bind us; my husband didn't want to force me into such a bond. When I did, I felt that bind for a moment until his last breath. If he were a random Demon, it would have been just for power and survival, but if it is with someone you love, family, friends, it is much different."
"What do you mean different? Is it much more than just raw strength?"
"It is something much more, something uncontrollable. I... I may not feel the need to consume anyone to satisfy the Blood Rite; Demon blood, not human, elf, dwarf, or anything else, will cause the lust to come back. However, it has unlocked some unknown creature inside my heart, one that I cannot reason or tame unless forced to."
"Are you speaking about a form beyond a Demon?"
"It's something like that... When he died, I felt my mind go blank, my vision red, seeking to kill and destroy everything around me. I was soon defeated after expelling everything I had, but there's a reason why so few knights survived that battle. The Empire thought doing what they wanted with me was a good idea. If I drink anything besides Demon, I will feel rejuvenated but gain little to no strength from it. If I taste a Demon's blood, I will become as powerful as I once was, maybe even stronger, but that would cause a lust for the blood or flesh once more." Her voice began to trail off.
"What about now?"
"Now? Well... the Demon, the 'Real' Demon inside, can be unleashed if I let go of my sanity for whatever reason it may be. Emotions have become very difficult to manage over the years, and your father has done a wonderful job making sure I was comfortable and less likely to lash out."
"That's why you're so scary when you are mad..."
"What was that?" She grits her teeth at me.
"Nothing! Just the wind or something."
"Hmph! Regardless... it is late; I have taken care of the wound; best you get as much rest as possible."
"Thank you. I have a long couple of months ahead of me."
"I'll clean up here. Just have Mei help you get to your chambers if needed."
"I'm not a little kid anymore; I can handle myself."
"You're barely eleven years old; that is still very, very young, Master."
"Sure, I can be a grown man at this rate with how much work I have to do anyway!"
"Just go to bed, Caleb."
Yawns
It dawned on me that I was exhausted. Training every day with Eckhart, fighting the Phantom Blades, and now staying up late with Celia consumed my last bit of stamina. My bed had never felt so comfortable in a long while. Sleep quickly took me, leaving my worries behind.
*
Quivering in her spot, the red-haired beauty of a Demon stared at the dried and darkened crimson of her Master's blood. It filled her nose and caused her to salivate. Ever since the assassin attacked at the mansion, his training with Eckhart, and now his recent incursion, Celia had been fighting an internal battle for her sanity. Stubborn and determined to remain in control, she had been hiding her urges; shame and guilt filled her heart as the very thought that the blood of the Lord she was said to serve had driven her mad.
Holding the handkerchief in her hand, still somewhat fresh of her Master's crimson scent, caused a sickly feeling in her stomach. She pulled away to focus, but her very hands still stank of the metallic scent of blood. She hit her head on the wall, trying to regain her composure; biting down on her tongue to distract her was one of many things she tried to force into this lust, this craving.
"I'm sorry... Master..." Tears rolled down her cheeks; the feeling she once had many years before clawed at her sanity. With a sudden look, she stared at herself in the mirror. Sweat rolled down her face, her lips clammy yet wet with constant drool, her teeth sharp like daggers, and her slick yet long tongue hung past her lips. A burning desire within her very eyes caused agony and rot to fill her being.
This feeling of craving the blood was all too similar to that day. Before she could allow it any longer, Celia raced to a sink and quickly washed away any trace of the scent, tossing the handkerchief into the fire to rid herself of any temptation. A moment passes as the subsiding hunger passes, leaving only the pit inside her stomach that silently craves his blood. She looks again into a mirror to see her Demonic features flare into existence. With a deep breath, Celia sat outside the manor to remove any more thoughts and visions of violence or depravity.