Chapter 83 THE SCALE OF BLOOD AND THE AWAKENING
Climbing the ice stairs was physical torture. It took hours. When they finally reached the summit, they were met by the massive, gothic temple carved into the mountain: The Monastery of Silence.
There were no doors. Only colossal pillars through which the wind sang a melodic, mournful whistle.
As they entered, the priests met them. They did not speak. It was as if they had no mouths; no sound came from beneath their masks. They only sent clear, sharp images and concepts into their minds.
Follow.
The inside of the temple was warmer than the outside, but it was not a warmth that heated the bones. In the center, a bright blue fire rose from the floor, moving like liquid. Ancient runes were carved around this fire.
The High Priest, a figure taller than the rest with a face entirely covered in grey bandages, pointed at Serra.
Serra looked at Dorian. There was fear in her eyes, but determination was stronger. Dorian nodded. "Don't be afraid," he said. "I'm with you."
Serra approached the fire. The High Priest placed his bony, long-fingered hand on her forehead.
Serra’s scream vibrated against the stone walls of the temple. Under the blue firelight, the black veins on her neck began to move frantically. They bulged and receded as if worms were crawling under her skin. Valerius did not want to be cast out of his home; he had dug his claws into Serra’s soul.
The Priest suddenly pulled his hand back and turned to Dorian. Not a clear voice, but a heavy concept dropped into Dorian’s mind.
Scale. Balance. Price.
"What is he saying?" Kael asked, not lowering his rifle. He did not trust the priests.
Valeria stepped forward, reading the runes on the temple walls. "He wants a price," she said, her voice trembling. "Blood magic is only cleansed by blood. To rip Valerius out of Serra, you must place a 'life force' of equal weight on the other side of the scale. A soul for a soul."
Dorian stepped forward without hesitation. "Take mine. I am already dead. Take my remaining energy and save her."
The Priest shook his head. He sent another image to Dorian: A broken chalice. It was empty. Dorian’s soul was in purgatory; therefore, it could not be traded.
The Priest slowly turned his long finger toward Atlas.
Despite her pain, Serra snarled like a she-wolf, pulling Atlas behind her. "Never! If you touch my son, I will tear this place down around you!"
The Priest remained calm. This time, he slowly turned his finger toward Valeria.
Valeria froze. Her eyes widened. "No... No, that wasn't the deal! I’m just the guide! I showed you the way!"
Kael stepped in front of Valeria, but Dorian placed a hand on Kael’s shoulder and stopped him.
This was a moral test. To save his wife, would he sacrifice a woman who had betrayed him, who had tried to destroy his family, but was currently defenseless?
The temple fell into silence. Only the crackling of the blue fire could be heard.
"We will not sacrifice her," Dorian said. His voice echoed through the temple, sharp and clear.
The Priest paused, tilting his head slightly.
"We will offer her a choice," Dorian said, turning to Valeria. He took out the key to her cuffs and threw it at her feet. The sound of metal clinked on the stone floor.
"You will not die in Serra's place, Valeria," Dorian said. "But you will give your blood. We all will. One person doesn't have to die. If five people bleed, the scale balances. A collective life force."
Dorian sliced his own wrist. Black, pitch-like blood flowed. Kael drew his knife without hesitation and slashed his palm. Lukas did the same. Serra pricked Atlas’s finger with a small needle; the baby didn't even cry.
Valeria looked at the key. Then at Dorian. Then at the open door. She could run. But outside was death. And for the first time, someone saw her not as a "spare part," but as a will.
Valeria picked up a sharp shard of ice from the floor. Taking a deep breath, she cut her palm.
The blood of five people dripped into the blue fire in the center.
The fire hissed and instantly turned purple.
The Priest hesitated for a moment at this unexpected "collective sacrifice." Then he bowed his bandaged head. Accepted.
Serra’s body suddenly lifted. An invisible force pulled her into the very center of the purple fire. Her screams stopped, her body went rigid.
Only the sickening sizzle of the black poison in her veins fighting the fire could be heard.
As Dorian watched the fire, Lyra stirred restlessly in his arms. The baby wasn't crying, but her eyes never left the flames.
Because the fire wasn't just healing Serra. It was awakening that ancient power that had been suppressed for years.
A mass of dense, black smoke erupted from Serra’s mouth. The smoke rose to the temple ceiling but did not dissipate. It swirled in the air, thickening and beginning to take a form.
Two red eyes glowed within the black smoke. Valerius’s silhouette appeared within the smoke, bodiless but possessing a terrifying power.
"Fools," the smoke said, its voice like the whisper of a thousand snakes. "You haven't destroyed me. You have released me from my prison of flesh."