RISEN || The Keepers of Astraela #2

9.3 || MYSTIA

|| CHAPTER 9.3 ||
|| MYSTIA ||

MYSTIA SLICED HER DAGGER clean across Nox's throat. The crystals embedded within the silver blade lit with necrotic energy as his blood spilled across its surface and into the bowl at her feet. Crimson splattered from the sacrificial dish, coating the mustard carpet in forbidden ketchup.

A sharp yelp from Eva forced Mystia to restrain a laugh. She had likely already leapt toward the headboard of the bed, uninjured hand flung across her mouth to keep the bile inside her easily-nauseated stomach. Meanwhile, the sound of shuffling feet was likely Bobbi trying to decide whether she should move forward and put a stop to her favorite necromancer's activities—but she wouldn't. Bobbi was an expert at remaining calm.

Nox gurgled as he drowned in his own blood. His eyes rolled back and his body lurched forward, but Sage held him securely in place. This time, he provided a seemingly-infinite river for a ritual that needed decent supply to be sufficient.

Once her bowl filled to overflowing, Mystia released Nox's hair and let his head loll forward. Sage rushed to cover his head with her hand. As she muttered softly, her hand lit with radiant light. Her natural abilities would surely act as a kickstart for Nox's Corruption-driven healing.

"I should have known not to ask," Bobbi mumbled.

Mystia ignored her... but, unfortunately, Sage did not.

"It's a little gory." Sage peeled her blood-soaked hand back and inspected Nox's wound. "I've always preferred using the axillary artery with a jar under the arm and proper floor coverings to prevent spills but... you know how picky—"

Mystia glared.

"—I mean, precise Mystia is with her spellwork."

As Sage prattled on, explaining each piece of the upcoming ritual in depth, Mystia tried to tune her out. She picked up the sacrificial bowl, with blood warm and steaming like rich tomato soup. The heat emanating from it made her grimace. Human blood never ran so hot.

She hoped her Other companions would write it off as one of many Astraelan racial traits they'd yet to discover. Nox had once been human, after all—their companions just didn't need to know how far in the past it truly was.

As more blood sloshed against the lip of the bowl, Bobbi stepped closer with the towel back in her grasp.

"Watch it!" she said. "You'll get it on the dresser!"

Mystia was not amused. "And where else do you suggest I build this altar? On the toilet tank?"

Bobbi chose not to argue. A wise choice.

With a quick flash of an "I win" smile, Mystia brought the bowl of blood to her makeshift altar upon the dresser. Setting it in the center of a ring of lit candles brought the fragrant smoke drifting toward the dish. The candles had been crafted from one of her short-lived Sanctum dwellers—a wood nymph with a penchant for adventure that had become her downfall not long after leaving the Elysian Lily's back door. But her druidic capabilities had proven exceptional for allowing her candles to blend with a floral scent so sweet that it was like walking through a field of fresh cannolyn blossoms.

Mystia took a deep breath of the soothing fragrance before reaching for their concoction of spellcasting ingredients. Their work was foolproof; their capabilities to check for souls within a contained vessel were well-practiced with little room for error. But this was far different, and there was much more at stake than if they were aiding a recently felled necromancer.

Carefully, she poured their mixture of tonics into the bowl and sprinkled the crushed herbs atop the swirling blood. The crimson pool had seemingly come alive, stirring itself by the enchantments carved into the dish's interior.