Eternity Glass

XIX: Acting on Instinct

She was out of her body before she could process anything. The first thing that she registered was the strong smell of wet rocks, sweat, and rotting food. Next were the prison cells.

Cells with actual living beings in them. None of them were her kind, but Fallon could easily recognize the looks of complete despair and emptiness on their features. A fae folk had their wings ripped off, the wounds on their backs still glistening with blood. Another cell held a vampire, completely exposed and chained up to a post so she couldn't escape the sunlight illuminating through charmed lanterns, burning her pale skin.

Without thinking, Fallon rushed to her cell, but found no lock. She pulled at the bars, but nothing gave way.

"Don't waste your breath, kid," the vampire drawled. "Only 'His Unholiness' can open these cells." Despite however long she'd been locked up, her tone kept its sarcastic jab.

"Are you not hurting?"

A dry laugh escaped the vampire's chapped lips, only to have her wince as if that much movement pained her. "Pitied by a human... Yes, I'm hurting. But this isn't fast enough to kill me. Just enough so my powers can barely keep up with healing me."

Fallon's heart ached at the loss of hope surrounding the vampire's energy. She mentioned her powers like she hated them, like she'd rather be dead than to have this ongoing torture. Fallon couldn't think to judge her; she once wished something similar. "What's your name?"

The vampire narrowed her ruby red eyes.

"I'm not going to use it against you."

She scoffed. "What would a mortal do with a name, anyway? It's Octavia."

"Octavia." Fallon couldn't help but smile. The name was so pretty, after all. "Do you have a clan, Octavia?" She'd read about vampires and their history and culture as one of Kamalita's assignments. She'd done her homework on the lore of so many creatures that most of it blurred together in a web, but vampire clans were hard to mix up with anything else.

They'd mixed and bred with many significant figures of history, but they were driven out thanks to the fear placed by Stoker and sought refuge in the Underworld. Emperor Xythlar had accepted them with open arms, but the vampires still built rivaling clans and family dynasties based on their Material Realm history. As a result, a single vampire or vampiress lived and breathed in the pride of their clan. Getting accepted into one you weren't born into was a life-threatening challenge while getting banned from one marked an individual as impure.

Octavia stiffened at the question and turned her head. "I already told Eyal that I will not betray my family's trust for his benefit," she hissed.

She thinks I'm working for him. Wait a second. "Eyal? What about Eyal?"

The vampiress drew her eyebrows together. "You mean he didn't send you to interrogate me?"

Fallon took a second look around, taking in the darkness and the sudden weight on her body. She looked back at Octavia. "Am I in the Underworld?"

"Yes? How did you even get in here if he didn't send you?"

Fallon felt her heart rate increase, but she forced herself to take a few breaths. So much was happening at once; it was a miracle that she didn't pass out. "I—I don't know. I was just..." She took another breath. "Look, it doesn't matter. Let me help you, at least."

Before Octavia could bring up any sense of doubt, Fallon closed her eyes and reached out with her magic. Only this time, she brought something back.

Whimpers echoed through the walls as blisters formed along her shoulders and down to her chest. She cried out as the heat wrapped around her torso and singed her clothes. Once the burns reached up her neck, she gasped and released her hold. Octavia's energy snapped back, and Fallon opened her eyes. The vampire's skin was mostly healed, the few seconds of immunity to the sunlight allowing her powers to quickly patch up any wounds.