The Curse of Eternity

Death Four

The Immortal Lord leads the way through a maze of hallways. Desolation pads behind. If not for her fiercely palpitating heart combined with the soft swishing of her dress, he can think himself alone. This is something odd about her and it is not her curse. 

No, the curse he can understand. He is cursed as well. What unnerves him is her silence and a certain fearlessness. She does not reek of fear like the others. The erratic tattoo of her heart speaks volumes, but it is not him she fears. Curious.

He cares not what his Bride is, only if she'll survive long enough. He wants the pain to end, even for a few moons. 

Unfortunately, all his brides manage to kill themselves before the ritual is complete and the blood of the dead is nowhere close to combating the blood of the living. Until the curse is broken and without a Moons Turn Bride, he will suffer the agony of a man whose heart has been torn from him.

The Immortal Lord purposely walks the long way to his quarters to give Gregoire enough time to prepare the rooms and to see if Desolation will run a wall or fall behind. He is intrigued by her ability to follow so smoothly and not stumble or bump objects along the way. True, for a female, Desolation is tall but he towers over her about ahead and his strides are much longer than an average human male.

Desolation is very different from all the other Brides before her and again, it is not because of her curse. O'finern's tits, in his time curses, were all the rage.  

What bothers him is the fact heard her heart cease beating and when her blood stopped flowing. Felt it so keenly as his own. He is forever cursed to live off the blood of others; his senses are attuned to beating hearts and the flowing of blood. 

However, having a living bride, he only needs a bit of her blood every cycle of the moons. He can enjoy the taste of food and drink; enjoy the sensations of the world without pain. 

Desolation died, his surety is absolute. It sparks another question; does Desolation know she died? If not, he does not want to be the one to broach the subject. What is he to say?

Desolation, remember the first night we met and I make you look into my eyes? Then you got flung in the air and cracked your head on a pillar? Well, you died. Now, now, I don't understand it either. I have never died in my cursed life. I don't know if I can. Therefore, I have no understanding of how the dead can come back to life. No that will not do, better to remain silent.

Most of his brides never stay in the apartments meant for them. Instead; they are sent across the castle to ease their panic. Never has it worked. He wants Desolation close to observe her. Furthermore, her presence relieves his ever-burning nerves, soothing him in a way no other brides ever have.

The Immortal Lord stops abruptly turning sharply into a small corridor leading to his rooms; ultimately hoping to confuse her, childish, but Desolation throws his normally acute senses out of balance. A power hover's around her. He feels her curse beneath the skin, crawling like invisible spiders, he randomly shivers. Her power encases her like a heavy mist pressing upon his own.

His ploy fails. She follows swiftly, without incident, and never missteps. He stops in front of two elaborately etched doors wrought in the darkest feyan and lined in smokey silver. He draws the marque of po'ne upon the air. Delicate curved runes shimmer, then flutter like a butterfly, landing gracefully upon the doors. They swing inwardly large enough for him to walk through the gap.

He turns to his bride in her pile of tasteless clothing, those dresses would have to be burned.

"Welcome little Desolation, to your new home."