Essence of Quinn Parts 3 & 4: Papa IV Era & The Main Event - Fate Breaker (MxM)

Resurrection

They stood in silence for a little while, allowing Sunshine time to be with Itzal. All of the ghouls had their eyes trained on the ground out of respect for her. Secondo was the one who finally broke the moment.

Omega stood with his arm around her shoulders, subtly soothing her but still allowing her to experience the pain. She wanted it that way.

Secondo met his eyes and nodded that it was time.

“Sunshine?” Omega said gently, rubbing a hand down her spine. She was hunched over Itzal, lips pressed to his forehead, fingers stroking through his hair. His sightless gaze was still trained on her. She made a whining sound and turned her face to the side in response to Omega. “We need to let them work now. They have to prepare him.”

She placed a final kiss to his pale skin and allowed Omega to guide her trembling form away to the edge of the chapel where her pack mates were waiting to comfort her. Cumulus and Cirrus wrapped her in a blanket and they went to sit on the wooden pews.

Earth handed Secondo a flat wooden box and he stepped up onto the dais to remove the collar from Itzal’s neck. Quinn had felt the magic from it dissipate at the same time that Itzal’s soul had completely gone from this plane. The force that had bound it to him and bound him to Santos had broken and the collar had split apart enough to remove it.

Itzal was finally free.

Secondo placed the black metal torque into the box and closed the lid, murmuring a locking spell to prevent anyone else from opening it. The collar was still useable and if it fell into the wrong hands, that person could take control of any one of them if they happened to have the know-how.

Earth and Quinn had been chosen to prepare Itzal’s body for the next part of the ritual which would be performed in around thirteen hours’ time. He needed to be cleaned and covered with a ceremonial shroud, as was proper and respectful.

They made sure to follow the traditions of the Shadow Council and carried out the death rite that their fallen warriors underwent. As far as any of them were concerned, that’s what Itzal was. He had fought as bravely and as fiercely as any of the warriors of his species and he was more than deserving of the proper customs.

He was stripped and cleaned with oils that were infused with herbs from their home dimension. Quinn spoke the words from their ancient sacred texts, a prayer to send his soul on to the Veil with honour. He tried his best to ignore the extent of the scarring on Itzal’s skin but it was difficult. Earth was having a hard time of it too if the growls he let out every now and then were anything to go by.

Ghouls didn’t usually scar, but shadow ghouls were different. They used their shadow forms to heal wounds and because Itzal had been prevented from shifting to that by the collar he had worn, his body had healed itself in a similar way to how a human’s would have done.

Some of the scars had been made by ritualistic cuts; symbols carved into his skin over and over again on many occasions. Quinn was almost certain that Santos’ witches were to blame for those rather than the man himself. They’d left behind raised scar tissue that could be used again and again during rituals.

Others looked like they’d been made with knives and whips or chains. His torso was littered with what looked like healed over stab wounds and slashes from various blades. His forearms and thighs were covered in rows of carefully spaced slices. They had mostly healed to white but some were still pink and raised, indicating that they had been made not too long before Itzal had made his escape. Quinn got the impression that someone had done those ones for fun and he let out his own growl when he thought about it.

Secondo had carefully stitched the cuts that he and Shay had just made on Itzal’s wrists but the older ones were visible underneath.

The worst scars however were the ones crisscrossing his back. It seemed that Santos had been fond of the whip as his chosen method of discipline. Some of the wounds had still been healing; the ones from when he’d first arrived at the Abbey were still red and scabbed over in places. Many older, fully healed lash marks covered the whole of his back in raised welts which had been revealed as they turned Itzal onto his side to clean him.