“Lord Certa,” said Blanc, stopping Alvin from turning around, “I can show you the location today, while the sun is still up, with everyone as witness.”
Alvin thought for a while, turning his face towards the setting sun. Thᴇ link to the origɪn of this information rᴇsts ɪn novel⦿fire.net
From what it seemed, there was barely any sunlight left, but the sooner he had that information, the better.
“Lead the way,” Alvin replied, “Once we have the location, all captives will be freed and you will be escorted back towards your camp-”
“Of course,” interrupted Blanc, “That is only if the Daughter makes sure that you cannot go back on any of your words.”
Alvin sighed, frustrated and tired.
This was his third day awake, the bags under his brown eyes adding a more serious look to his innocent face.
He could only hope that after all this, he would be able to sleep properly.
But for now, he called the Daughter forward.
And Blanc called for Allegra to join him, which she did a moment later.
“I have been witness to the terms you have all agreed upon,” the Daughter said, her facial expression void of any emotion.
However emotionless as she was, she moved with purpose as each word swam away from her lips.
With a swift turn of her shoulder, she pulled from behind her, hidden beneath her crimson-colored hair, a large knife.
The metal was beautiful, strong, and sharp, with black spots running along the steel.
The handle was made of pure white gold, making the knife heavier than it looked.
She placed the knife between the three people present, the ones chosen by the Vita to represent the deal.
“An offering of blood is required,” the Daughter mentioned.
“Of course there is,” Alvin mumbled, taking the knife into his right hand and placing the blade in the palm of his left hand.
He pressed harder, slowly dragging the knife through skin and flesh, with the blood flowing through his fingers, falling onto the hardwood bridge.
He wiped the blood off on a cloth the Daughter offered and then passed the knife to Blanc.
“You sound displeased,” Blanc mentioned, as he took the knife from him.
As Blanc opened the scar that stood on the palm of his left hand, Alvin replied.
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“They butchered my people, and here I am freeing them for turtles,” he sighed, looking at the wound on his hand, “All for gold and power.”
As Blanc’s blood started pouring from his hand, he gave the knife, clean of any blood, to Allegra.
“At least you, Lord Certa, have the opportunity to do something for your Blood,” Blanc muttered.
Alvin turned his eyes towards Blanc, staring at him.
It was known to the Empire what befell Blood Denegis, and how three of the Noble Blood’s children vanished as if into thin air.
There were many details that Alvin, as angry as he still was, refused to mention.
The events that followed the defeat of Blood Denegis were just as known.
But as none of them appeared to have known the situation, he remained silent.
Perhaps to let them find things out for themselves, or perhaps, this was his revenge, unable to do anything anymore now that the Daughter was present, though he couldn’t deny wishing to rip the hearts out of all their chests.
Once Allegra finished cutting her own palm open, the Daughter placed her hands forward.
The blood from their hands and the one who was already absorbed into the wooden bridge slowly rose into the air, forming a large bubble of blood between them.
The Daughter placed her hands lightly on the bubble, muttering something that couldn’t be heard even by Blanc’s ears, standing less than a few feet away from her.
The blood inside started swirling, with each word she uttered gaining speed, faster, and faster, and faster until all that made their blood their own was all but a lie.
“Before you stands your blood,” the Daughter spoke, placing a finger deep into the bubble, “It represents the deal you have struck, and all of its details, in front of the Vita as proof, and seal.”
Once she removed her finger, a singular drop of blood stood at the tip.
She walked towards the Patriarch of Blood Certa as she continued.
“As a witness, I will be giving you a drop of all your blood,” she said, letting the drop fall into Alvin’s mouth before turning and taking another drop for Blanc. “If one fails to meet all parts of their deal struck, this singular drop of blood will coagulate your own blood, thickening it, and by default, killing you.”
As she explained the fair rules of the deal, she placed the drop on Blanc’s tongue as she stared into his eyes.
She didn’t linger for long, turning and grabbing the last one needed for Allegra.
“Are there any questions?” The Daughter asked as she waited for Allegra to open her mouth.
“None,” Blanc and Alvin replied in unison.
Allegra shook her head, unable to talk with the Daughter’s finger in her mouth.
“May the Vita accept this gift of blood, and be witness to the deal struck,” the Daughter muttered, taking the large bubble of blood remaining and sending it over the bridge into the gap.
All the other present watched the ritual taking place with veneration, even if it was the first time seeing a deal being struck this way.
Celine, Miyanna, and the twins stood behind Blanc, knowing how to remain silent during such an important event.
And so did most of the soldiers of Blood Certa’s side.
But the Metamorphs present, captured or otherwise, whispered during the ritual.
Words of wonder, or blasphemy, were uttered, but one thing was certain.
They all watched with heavy intent as the deal took place, as each present cut their palms, including Allegra.
How Blood magic appeared to have been used, and how they all consume it, as if not afraid of going against their words.
All Metamorphs learned that day the ritualistic nature of humans, and how much it meant to them.
“Now,” Alvin muttered, “Show me the location of the turtles.”