Chapter 41 Chapter Forty -one
Aquila began to pour the liquid along the salt circle, his lips moving in a language not spoken by humans of this time. This was older. Deeper than the kind of magic that predated the Convergence. It existed in the spaces between worlds. Living and dead.
The story of how he got the Archgrim of lust to teach him this spell, however, is a story for another day.
The moment the liquid touched the salt, the circle ignited with purple flames that speared quickly and illuminated the entire space with an ethereal, magical glow.
The light shot upward, forming a barrier around Ash, er and it was as if whatever was fighting to rip its way out of him became even more aggressive.nd Asher let out a guttural roar that made the stoned walls tremble from the ancient terror that was the black dragon.
Amber eyes bled gold. Black iridescent scales rippled across his skin as his limbs contorted painfully in angles that shouldn't even be possible.
He slammed once against the barrier, and it pushed him back. He slammed against it again, and it quivered with power that vibrated at a frequency that Aquila could feel in his bones.
"Fight it, Asher!" Aquila yelled over the thrum.
"I ...I can't!"
" Yes, you can! Remember, I'm here."
"The corruption --"
"Meldivé!" Aquila yelled in Demonic tongue for Asher to shut the hell up.
The barrier was working exactly as it was supposed to, pulling the corruption out of him, dragging it to the surface where it could be contained and neutralized. But the process was excruciating. Not just for Asher, but Aquila as well because it required a lot of pure energy. The only problem was that he was a demon who fed off of sin. Pure wasn't a term that one would use to describe a demon, especially not a demon like Aquila. It was like every nerve in his body was being set on fire simultaneously, but there was no line he wouldn't cross for Asher.
Aquila moved closer, placing his hands on Asher's chest again. His own power flowed through his palms—burning like fire, a counterpoint to the violent expulsion happening inside the circle.
He gritted his teeth so hard that blood seeped through. His eyes dyed black and dark veins burst forth from his otherwise perfectly porcelain skin. "Breathe," Aquila commanded, his voice cutting through Asher's screams. "Kovar. Konark. Ruhu. Kalto." He repeated the chants over and over until they took a pattern with the screams and chaos that slowly fell into a rhythmic progression.
Asher thrashed, his clawed hands scraping against the stone floor, leaving deep gouges in the rock.
"Asher!" Aquila's voice sharpened. "Look at me. Look at my eyes."
It took a moment, but eventually Asher's wild gaze found his.
"That's it. Stay with me. Breathe when I breathe."
Aquila inhaled slowly, deeply, holding Asher's gaze with an intensity that bordered on hypnotic. After a second, Asher tried to mirror him—a shaky, broken inhale that was more gasp than breath.
"Good. Again."
They breathed together. In and out. In and out like a dance.
The barrier continued its work, pulling ribbons of black corruption from Asher's skin. It rose like smoke, like poison being leeched from a wound, and was being absorbed into the purple light that turned a bright shade of Violet. And the moment they touched the edge of the light, they disappeared.
Minutes passed. Or maybe hours. These things were strange to keep track of when it came to time. But at least it was almost over. Or at least, he hoped they were.
Gradually Asher's convulsions began to ease. The scales started to recede, sinking back beneath his skin. The black veins faded from angry, pulsing lines to faint shadows and his breathing steadied.
The claws retracted, his fingers returning to something more human.
And by the time the barrier flickered and died, Asher was unconscious but stable and Aquila was barely hanging on. The corruption hadn't been completely purged—it never could be, not permanently—but it had been pushed back enough to give him a few more weeks before the next episode.
Aquila sat back, exhausted, and let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.
"I'm getting too old for this shit," he muttered, looking down at Asher's pale, sweat-drenched face.
"Not old enough." Asher's eyes peered open as he let out a sigh and held out a weak hand. "Help me up."
Aquila stared at the hand for a long moment before scoffing.
“You know,” he breathed heavily, pressing a hand dramatically against his chest, “most people say thank you after someone saves their life.”
Asher’s outstretched hand remained where it was, trembling faintly from exhaustion.
“...”
"..."
"Thank you."
"Now, was that so hard to do?" Aquila grinned triumphantly as he grabbed Asher’s forearm and hauled him upward with more strength than his exhausted state should have allowed.
The moment Asher stood, his knees nearly buckled.
Aquila caught him immediately.
“It's harder than you'd think.” Asher shook his head.
“Wow. At least your oh, so, charming personality is intact."
Asher shrugged with a grunt as he steadied himself against the stone wall. The chamber still smelled of burnt magic and dragon fire. Purple embers drifted lazily through the air like dying stars before fading into nothing.
Aquila rolled his aching shoulders with a grimace. His veins were slowly retreating beneath porcelain skin again, though faint traces of black still lingered beneath his eyes.
“That,” he said flatly, “will always be unpleasant.”
Asher dragged a shaking hand through his sweat-soaked hair. " For you or me?"
"It's not a competition, Dragon." Aquila rolled his eyes. "Besides, I'm not the one who almost turned into an apocalyptic lizard."
A rough exhale escaped Asher that might have been the ghost of a laugh.
The scales that had erupted along Asher's skin were gone now, but faint traces of black still lingered along his collarbone like ink trapped beneath skin. His golden eyes had dimmed
back toward amber, though flecks of molten light still flickered in them whenever he blinked.