The Princess and the Blood of Eternity

Chapter 30: Return to Form, and an Escape

Lilith found herself in the gloom of an endless space. No walls, ceiling, or ground of any kind. As weird as it was to conceptualize, the space felt like... nothing. As if it didn't exist beyond her consciousness, leaving her to wonder if she'd somehow fallen asleep.

The only thing that was obvious—she was no longer inside the Sanctum of Xomreus. Her body was still there, seated on the stone bench with the Noble standing over her with the wicked dagger in his hand, and yet she wasn't. It was as if her mind had broken off from her body.

Back in the real-world Cleo was in trouble. Somehow, he'd found her. The realization and reoccurring habit was more comforting than she could've imagined. A comfort undermined by his emotional pain. It was so vast and potent, the guilt had followed her to wherever she was now.

A mad cackle cut across the space to interrupt her thoughts. It surprised her. There was noise, and it shocked her to discover an old man kneeling a few feet away. Where had he come from? Why was he here?

His body looked broken. Limbs sickly with knobby joints and prominent veins, though he certainly looked healthier than the Nobles on their thrones back inside the Sanctum.

Thick chains and manacles wrapped around his neck and arms held him in place with large iron spikes that were bolted to the floor. She would've called the ground stone, but the ground didn't really exist in this place. Each time he moved, the chains twisted, constricting a little tighter and bringing him ever closer to the ground.

His loud laughter had dispersed and disappeared into the empty space, making her conscious of the fact that there was no echo. It was a muffled void, similar to being buried deep underground. Even the rattle of the chains failed to have an effect.

Feeling an itch, she had a sudden urge to look down at her hands to make sure she was still free of restraints. The fact she could see at all—that she could see her body left her stunned. Wherever this was, light and the ability to see, technically, did not exist here.

"What is this place?" she silently asked herself.

The fact she existed had allowed her to be seen. It was the same as the man in his chains. She didn't know if that was how it worked, but the precept felt natural, almost familiar.

"No need to be scared," said the old man once he stopped laughing. He shifted, jingling his chains to show he couldn't go anywhere. "Welcome to my sanctum," he added with a fair bit of sarcasm.

Except for a long, curved nose, a wide mop of gray hair obscured the rest of his features. Lilith didn't trust the friendly words. Not in a place like this with a man chained to the ground. A closer look revealed there were scars covering his body. Jagged horrid lines that healed poorly, leaving behind lines of lighter skin that stood out amongst the rest of his body.

His clothes, tattered and stained, appeared to have once been quite fine. Velvets and silks, the slacks and coat could've belonged to a king or a wealthy merchant. The rich red and golds had fallen victim to several decades of weather and wear. Lilith tried to ignore the violent holes in the coat's shoulder and gut that suggested something terrible might've happened in the past.

"Who are you? And where am I?" Lilith demanded, surprised by the force employed in her own voice.

"Questions when I should be the one questioning you?" said the old man like he thought the whole situation was one big, elaborate joke. "You, the one free to wander the world? Mostly, I'm surprised you don't already know the answers. I'm the spirit of this island. I've gone by many names over the years. Long ago, I was once treated like a god. These days, I am considered more of a resource to be exploited. Chained as I am, I'm honestly surprised I can even speak, let alone affect or change my lands at all." He jiggled his chains to make a point. "And you may call me Asher, though I fear I may no longer be suited to that name." Reference to the name left him surprisingly emotional, like he might start crying or laughing. The two seemed deceitfully similar on Asher's obscured face.