"Even your healing grace is slower."
Vondell turned around, and found Azura, charred and bloody, picking herself off the ground; using her halberd as a crutch. Small streaks of lightning leapt from her halberd to her skin, slowly zapping patches of charred skin back to their natural smooth state.
"What, your fight with the Ancient Priestess mess you up that bad?" she asked, stumbling her way towards Vondell.
One of her guildmembers rushed to help her, however before he could get close, Vondell held out his hand in a halting gesture. "My blood is on the ground. Nobody approach until I clean it up," he said, turning his attention to his held-out hand. The missing fingers had already begun healing, however, they seemed to be repairing at the same rate, if not slightly slower than Azura's skin.
"I'll return the cuffs in a day or two," Vondell replied tiredly, dropping his hand. "It's been fed I'll assume?"
Azura scoffed at his response, limping closer to him so that there was only a whisper's distance between them. "Don't change the subject, Black."
"Someone who defeated an Ancient Priestess should be a lot stronger than what you've shown me here today. Even if you didn't completely finish the sacrifice ritual, you should undoubtedly be the strongest thing this side of the plains," she added, her expression hardening with each word she spat.
"So then tell me, Black. Why is my future primary suddenly slower, why is his healing grace weaker and why did he almost die to a second-rate assassin," she whispered, her voice straining hoarsely.
Vondell took a step away from her, and pulled out his alchemical bag. He removed the white cleansing elixir, and dropped it on the floor next to where his blood had been spilt.
"Activos," he whispered, and the blood symbol at the front of the vile went up in flames, releasing thick white smoke into the room. "Sercos sanguis," he hissed, allowing some of the blood from his hand to drip onto the effusing vial.
With that, the white smoke began to twist and turn in the air, targeting every bloody area in the entrance hall.
"You know what I think the answer is?" Azura said, side-glancing at the smoke as it slithered like a snake between both of them. "I think it's because you haven't been drinking ichor all this time."
Vondell froze at this. ~Even if I'm slightly weaker, this isn't something that someone on her level should be able to conclude,~ he thought to himself. The Lords probably knew, after all, it was difficult to explain why he hadn't increased in power since he came here, while they slowly reached his level.
But for her to realize it while being so much weaker, meant that she must've been watching him quite carefully for a while. Though that much wasn't a suprise. Azura had been the first person to follow him, in fact, back when she was just a newly announced scion she had begged him to found a guild. Vondell didn't think he had time to manage one, so he rejected it. She didn't take it well, but the gleam in her eyes whenever she looked at him never changed.
"You're overstepping, Azura. And I am not, your future primary," Vondell said, just as the cleansing elixir finished its job.
At this point, Azura's face was entirely back to normal, however the rest of her body was still charred. She had an empty smile on her face, as she stared up at Vondell.
"Itzel knows. Helen knows. Most of us do, but no one else will say anything because you're Lord Black," she whispered, her expression soft now. "But someone has to tell you. You're not a god, Black, you can't keep using scion abilities without god-blood. If you keep burning corpses instead of sacrificing them, you'll go into thirst, and we'll be left to deal with the daemon you leave behind."
Vondell remained silent. He was never fond of the idea of making comrades here in Antras; he already knew the sort of path he was going to take and having people beside you who cared, and tried to talk you out of it made things harder than they already were. But comrades come, whether you want them or not, through pain and suffering strangers become people who care. Azura's warnings were not without truth, but these were truths he already knew, truths that he dreamt about every night. But for him to have a chance at completing his quest, at putting an end to the nightmares, and the burn, this was a price he had to pay.
"I am still the same mind and soul without bathing in innocent blood. You don't need to worry," Vondell said. "Go rest now. Your healing grace won't be enough for you to recover."
Azura sighed.
She pointed at the vial on the ground, her hand still shaky from the fight earlier. "This alchemy thing was interesting the first time I saw it. But now I know. It's a cheap imitation of the power the gods bless us with. It'll never be enough. But if you keep lying to yourself it will, then we'll lose you even faster tha—"
The sound of footsteps broke their whispered conversation, as one of the attendants entered the hall. He carried two rusty cuffs on a blue pillow; one had a red gem at its center, the other a blue —domination heirlooms, the craftings of a scion artificer from a land that serves a crueler pantheon of empyreans.
Vondell retrieved the cuffs and placed them on his wrists. With that, they tightened, and dug into his flesh, drawing blood. The crimson washed off the rust, revealing a glimmering silver surface. They dug even deeper into his skin until only the gems were left exposed.
Only after enduring great pain did they turn on. The currency of power.
"Tell Itzel I'll take good care of it," Vondell announced, before walking towards the backdoors.
"Just make sure you bring it back alive," Azura called back, still staring at the vial.