Πανδώρα

Four

After waking up to the warmth of Abel's form we had decided to continue searching for the nearest settlement, looking for anything afflicted that needed curing or simply a new place to call home. But what we came upon was nothing like I had ever seen. Men, women, and children alike, all rippling with Abstagantsis. Some grew horns of bone, others were blanketed with abrasions and holes filled with jagged black teeth. The sight was... chilling. Yet Abel's warm hand slipping into my own gave me hope, a welcome reminder that I can help these people. I can save them all. And so I let the familiar light swell beneath my skin, itching to push past its glass cage. Moving from person to person I let the hues of gold, white, and silver radiate from every fiber of my being. Tides of light folding atop one another in what seemed to be gentle threads. But I knew otherwise. My light was gentle until it caught wind of the Abstagantsis. Once it had entered the souls of the afflicted it would turn crimson and violent, tearing their spirit into ribbons in search of the malignant curse. Only returning to gentle tresses after the plague had been eradicated and the soul had been pieced together. Abel always told me that I was the one pure thing left in this wretched world. But even my light was wicked and hateful.