The Princess and the Blood of Eternity

Chapter 11: Promises Broken

The impromptu ritual continued as the rain fell on the wide-open, empty beach. The waves rolled in like they were sentient, a curious party to the events unfolding on the island's coast.

The rain had stopped, and the wind had slowed—almost like nature was holding its breath. The air had become stale, foul even. Lilith continued digging her fingers into the cut on her wrist, increasing the blood flow as the droplets disappeared into Cleo's skin.

She felt like a prisoner in her own mind, an unwilling passenger dragged along for a ride. Her goal in dissecting her own arm was anyone's guess.

No one tried to interfere, not Boulder, nor Cassandra. Lilith took refuge in the way the night had conveniently masked their expressions. Inside, she imagined they were frowning, sickened by the disgusting display.

As for the question of when she might stop, she couldn't say. Purposefully bleeding on someone had never been a factor in her life. The longer she continued, the more she felt her sanity being consumed by pain.

Lilith released her arm as soon as the blood loss had made her dizzy. She had control over her body again. Then two things stood out to her. First, it surprised her it'd ended so suddenly, and for all her bleeding, Cleo's torso showed almost none of her green blood. Such a large quantity, liters in fact, and yet the only evidence was the blood smears on her hands and arms. Frantic by what she'd done, she started scooping up clumps of sand, vainly trying to rub away the evidence of her blood.

She kept her head low, refusing to meet anyone's gaze. Her blood was supposed to be a secret. The accident was one thing. Maybe it was easy to dismiss or accept, but cutting open her arm and bleeding in front of everyone had put her birth defect on display for everyone to see. If her mother knew, she'd probably have her whipped, or worse.

Conscious of having everyone's eyes on her, she began re-wrapping the bandage on her arm. Seconds passed, and no one said anything. The silence was worse than having them scream at her. With an unresponsive Cleo on her lap, she found the warmth he gave off to be mildly encouraging. A good sign.

Everything was going to be different. By slicing her arm open, she'd somehow surpassed the oddity presented by the creature attack on their cabin. And why had no one tried to stop her? Her life had become a nightmare.

After a painful couple of moments, she forced herself to look at Boulder. He stood closest. His face permeated with emotion ranging from confusion, outrage, anger, and beneath was a large helping of regret. Regret that he'd let her slip away from him, or regret over agreeing to be her bodyguard?

He certainly couldn't have predicted pirate attacks, winged monsters, or foolish girls fileting their arms. Not to mention the cruel comment she'd made back in the cabin. He didn't deserve it. She'd be surprised if he ever talked to her again.

Moving her hand, she touched the side of Cleo's chest. The subtle rise and fall alerted her to the fact that he was alive. "He's breathing," she announced to herself and the rest of the group. In response, an audible exhale ran through the crew.

Ural lowered his eyes and shook his head. "I know it's hard to accept, but we need to be real. We can take him with us, but moving him is going to make his injuries worse. We don't want to increase his suffering, and there could be more of those things out there. I know it's a miracle he's still breathing, but our job—now—is to protect the living. The best we can hope for is to make him comfortable as he prepares for his final voyage."

The resounding silence said the group understood what the 'final' meant.

Lilith stubbornly shook her head. "You're wrong." She wanted to argue further, but felt the sailor had decided. How could he be so certain?