"There's something inherently tragic about vampires. They live forever, but they can never truly live."
– Nina Dobrev
As per my book; a human soul resided within its mind. For vampires, however—it manifested in their blood.
Hence why a vampire's blood crystallized once it left the body—and why it killed upon being consumed.
Long before this phenomenon was understood, many mages in their hunger for power tried to drink vampire blood. The blood instead met their own—and the soul within it surged through their veins. In the matter of a moment, they turned to stone.
"But that shouldn't happen to you," Theron said with a reassuring smile.
The basement of the temple in Haldor was where Lucian had hidden Lunette's corpse. I never explored it in my previous lives—the trouble was not worth it.
Now this spot would serve to hide Eira as well.
"If I die, you will never find your mother's body, Your Highness," I warned him.
He hitched, then silently replied, "I know. I wouldn't step foot inside this vile place if I myself hadn't been desperate enough."
That was true. He despised temples—yet he arrived here in a heartbeat upon mentioning his mother.
Divinity and Magic—like oil and water, were eternally incompatible. To harness magic, the divinity within me had to die.
Holy swordsmen wielded offensive divinity alongside their blades, while mine remained defensive—a healing force, passive and pure.
"So you're telling me this vampire blood, because it comes from vampires—a subclass of Graveborns—will nullify my divinity?"
"Precisely," Theron explained. "You lose divinity either by committing a grave sin or its complete exhaustion."
"Drinking vampire blood isn't on that list." I stared.
"No, but your divinity will burn itself out protecting you from the effects of this blood," he said, then followed with a smirk, "Don't be surprised. The stories you're told in the cult—I mean temple—regarding divinity being supreme, it's all faux."
He laced each sentence with words slandering temples.
"And when the blood outlasts my divinity? Won't it kill me?"
Theron smirked. "That's when I step in. The best blood mage alive—I'll rip every last drop out of you that's remained after surviving your divinity."
I raised a brow. "We should've gone with the first option: committing a grave sin." A part of me meant it—this way seemed risky.
His smile faded. "…No, the sin has to be far too grave."
I knew that well. That's how he'd lost his own divinity.
We decided to execute this ritual as soon as I found the blood of a Graveborn—but it couldn't possibly be any. My divinity had surely guarded me against most. The blood of an age-old vampire, however—was a different story.
"Just drink it," Theron snapped, his patience wearing thin.
"One more question," I stalled. "This blood only nullifies divinity. How will magic be induced?"
"It's tricky; there are numerous ways. Do not concern yourself with that now."
I was wary—the dark magic required to become a blood mage had induced within him after he killed his own blood.
I opened the flask. Dark, black, almost a void. Blood inside emanated a menacing deadly smoke that reeked of a metallic, bloody stench. This could potentially land me in front of the sapphire mirror again.
"Enough hesitation—get this over with. Standing inside this place is nauseating." He looked away. "And just… trust me. I would pull it out if anything goes wrong."
Suspicious. But I trusted my divinity—if not him. Hence, I proceeded.
I tipped the flask open, consuming it entirely. Theron stood there guarded—watching black smoke leave my mouth. "Done," I huffed. "What now, nothing is happenin—"
The thick fog burst out of my mouth interrupting me, it thickened. My sight left me soon as it enveloped my whole body. The last thing I heard was Theron yell my name, until it trailed away behind the fog.
"What… is this? Why does this hurt so—AAH!"
My stomach squeezed itself—the feeling, as if my guts were being pulled outside of me through my mouth. Soon, my bones heated up, burning my skin through and through.
Until they melted, then froze back again—reforming me. This hurt more than any guillotine. For a second, I wished for death—until my ears burned off, disabling me from even hearing my own screams.
"Am I turning to stone?"
"How… could this be… my divinity never failed me."
"B-Blood? It's… everywhere." Blood oozed out of every last pore in my body.
"My nails—NO AGH!" I let out a blood-curdling scream, nails pulled out of my fingers—and my teeth dug into my own tongue.
…
"How could a mere human…" A voice woke me up from the nightmare—and I found myself on a bed.
"What the fuck." I let out a sigh, regretting—assuming I regressed once again.
"This death… it was different."
"No mirror?" I murmured to myself. "That's new."
The voice appeared once again, "True. In a mirror, you would hold no reflection!"
"AGH!" I yelped, spotting a floating, shadowy figure no larger than my palm.
Glowing red eyes, as dark as a void, with small red horns and a tail that flicked irritably.
"You, what are you?"
"Hm?" It curiously tilted its head unnaturally—twisting in a complete circle. "Strange. Do humans often talk to themselves out loud?"
"You are the one talking to himself out loud."
It startled. "Huh?" I lunged my hands to grab it, grabbing only air.
"You dare lay hands on me?" the creature shrieked. "Do you not recognize greatness when it floats before you?"
"Greatness?"
"Hmm." It thought hard. "Might be due to your newly formed transformation from the lowly species to us royal ones. Soon you would learn our way."
"What?"
"But I still sense the despicable radiant energy emanating from your mind. I wonder—"
"What's your name again?" I interrupted.
It cleared its throat and stood in a gentle manner, adjusting its bow tie which appeared out of thin air. "I, am the greatest of the greatest. Reigning supreme beyond mortality, alive whilst dead, the mighty—"
"Cut to the chase."
"How impudent!" Its cheeks flushed. "Astaroth. That is what I am known as."
"Oh, Astaroth. Wait… Astaroth?!?"
"You're ASTAROTH." I pulled off my duvet. "That's right. Now you realize—"
"The dumb vampire who ate his own self, lost his powers, got trapped by a bunch of humans, later got cursed by the goddess. I only wrote it for the sake of world-building."
"YOU DARE. I'M ALMIGHTY—"
"Almighty cannibal!" I interrupted. "You don't even exist properly, Asta."
I followed. "Being immortal and being cursed to live on as a soul are two different things, Asta!"
"Hmph! There are lies lying within the story you know about me. And what's Asta?"
"Like what?"
"They always leave out how many quivered before me. Bowing their heads, asking for mercy—expected when you are the most powerful being in existence."
"Except you don't exist."
"You…!!"
I paused, realizing I wasn't dead. This wasn't regression. The situation was absurd, but one thing was clear: I was still alive.
Astaroth scowled. "At my prime, my wings were larger than your entire pitiful body! Yours look like tweezers."
"Hah! As if! Wait—wings?"
I looked towards my back. "Oh goddess, what the fuck is that!"