Chương 5: Blood For Blood
The moment the dagger's blade broke her skin, a wave of cold flooded Azra's veins, far more potent than the chill of the stone chamber. It was as if the temple itself reacted to her blood—the air around her thickened, pulsing with an ancient, unnatural energy that seemed to draw closer, eager to devour the life spilling from her palm.
The symbols etched into the stone slab beneath her flared to life, glowing a deep crimson that mirrored the blood now dripping onto the surface. Azra's vision blurred, her breath coming in shallow gasps as the energy crackled through the chamber, coiling around her like a living thing. The oppressive weight of the entity's gaze bore down on her, watching with cold, calculating malice as her blood seeped into the cracks of the stone.
She staggered, clutching her wounded hand to her chest, but she could feel it—the ritual had begun. The veil between worlds was trembling, straining against the ancient power she had just awakened. The entity before her, that towering figure of skeletal darkness, recoiled for the first time, as if sensing that something beyond its control had been set in motion.
But even as the air hummed with power, Azra felt the cost of what she had started. The energy swirling around her wasn't just drawing from the ancient symbols—it was drawing from her. Every drop of blood that fell from her wound seemed to weaken her, as though the very essence of the ritual demanded more than she had bargained for.
The entity's voice slithered into her mind once more, low and mocking. "You think to seal the veil? Foolish mortal. You do not know the power you meddle with."
Azra gritted her teeth, fighting against the pull of the ritual. Her body ached, the wound on her palm burning as the blood continued to flow, faster now, as if the very stones beneath her demanded more. The light in the chamber dimmed, the symbols around her flickering, unstable. The ritual wasn't complete—it needed more.
The dagger slipped from her grasp, clattering to the floor. She watched as her blood spread across the stone, the crimson rivulets snaking toward the center of the slab, drawn to a single, circular symbol that seemed to pulse with life. The lines of the symbol glowed brighter, the edges warping as though something beneath the stone was trying to push through.
Azra stumbled back, her knees buckling under the strain. The whispers in the chamber grew louder, almost frantic, as though the ancient forces that had slumbered for centuries were now awakening, stirred by the blood that had been offered.
Blood for blood. Life for life.
She remembered the words from her father's journal, the warning etched into the margins. The veil could be sealed, yes, but only at a cost—one she was not sure she could bear. Her mind raced, searching for another way, some alternative that wouldn't demand so much of her.
But as her thoughts churned, the entity shifted, its towering form looming over her once again. Its eyes—those cold, unfeeling orbs—glowed with a dark hunger. It could sense her hesitation, and it thrived on it.
"It will take everything from you," the voice hissed. "But you will not succeed. The veil is already too weak. It cannot hold."
Azra's breath caught in her throat. She could feel the truth in the entity's words, the weakening veil between the worlds that had allowed these horrors to seep into Al'Khari. But she couldn't stop now. If she faltered, the forgotten creatures that waited in the shadows would spill through, overwhelming not just the city, but perhaps the world beyond.
Her father had believed there was a way—a way to stop it. But he had been wrong, hadn't he? He had never completed the ritual. He had never found the price that would seal the veil, and now she was standing at the edge of the same abyss, her soul teetering on the brink.
"Your father tried," the entity whispered, its voice curling around her like smoke. "He failed. Just as you will fail."
Azra's chest tightened, her eyes burning with unshed tears. She had followed in her father's footsteps, hoping to find answers, to finish what he had started. But now, standing here in this cursed city, facing the same ancient forces that had consumed him, she realized that she was no different from him—just another mortal, reaching for something far beyond her grasp.
The entity's form shifted, dark tendrils of shadow unfurling from its body as it advanced. "Give in, Azra. The veil cannot hold. The forgotten will rise, and you will be nothing but dust."
The light from the stone slab flickered, dimming as the blood that fed the ritual slowed to a trickle. Azra's strength was fading, her body trembling under the weight of the power that demanded more. She could feel the pull, the insistent tug of the veil thinning around her, the creatures beyond waiting to break through.
But in that moment of despair, a memory surfaced—a fragment of her father's voice, a passage from the journal she had read so many times it was burned into her mind. "It will take more than blood. More than life. The veil must be sealed with intention, with sacrifice freely given."
Freely given. That was the key.
The realization struck her like a bolt of lightning, sending a surge of clarity through the fog of exhaustion. Her father had never completed the ritual because he had never understood the true nature of the sacrifice. It wasn't just blood or life that was needed—it was a choice. A willing sacrifice, freely given, not taken by force or desperation.
Azra pushed herself to her feet, her legs shaking beneath her. The entity recoiled slightly, as though sensing the shift in her resolve. She pressed her bleeding palm against the stone slab, her voice barely more than a whisper.
"I choose."
The words sent a ripple through the chamber, the symbols around her flaring to life once more, brighter and more intense than before. The air crackled with energy, the voices in the chamber growing louder, frenzied.
Azra's body ached, every fiber of her being screaming in protest as the ritual demanded more. But this time, she understood. She wasn't just a vessel for the ritual—she was the conduit. The veil could only be sealed with a conscious, willing act of sacrifice, and that sacrifice would be hers.
The entity snarled, its form unraveling as the light in the chamber grew brighter, more intense. The tendrils of shadow that had once writhed and pulsed with life began to fade, dissolving into the air. Azra could feel the balance shifting, the power of the veil stabilizing as her intention solidified.
But as the entity weakened, something else stirred—something beneath the stone slab. The ground trembled, the symbols glowing so brightly now that it was painful to look at. Azra's hand pressed harder against the stone as the ritual reached its climax, the energy around her becoming a violent maelstrom of light and sound.
And then, with a deafening crack, the slab split open.
Azra was thrown backward, her body slamming against the stone wall as the chamber erupted with power. The light from the symbols burst forth, engulfing the entire room in a blinding flash. She shielded her eyes, her heart racing as the ground beneath her shook violently, the air thick with the scent of burning.
When the light finally faded, Azra blinked, her vision swimming as she struggled to focus. The chamber was in ruins, the stone slab shattered into pieces, but the symbols etched into the floor still pulsed with a faint, steady glow.
The entity was gone. The oppressive presence that had filled the chamber had vanished, and for the first time since she had entered Al'Khari, Azra felt the weight of the curse lifting. The veil had been sealed, the breach closed.
But the cost…
Azra's hands trembled as she pushed herself to her feet, her body weak from the strain of the ritual. The wound on her palm still bled, but the flow had slowed, the blood clotting around the edges. Her mind felt foggy, her thoughts scattered as she took in the destruction around her.
The ritual had worked. The veil was sealed, and the forgotten creatures that had hunted her in the night were banished, at least for now.
But as Azra's gaze fell on the shattered remains of the stone slab, she realized that something else had been released. Beneath the broken stone, the ground had collapsed inward, revealing a gaping hole—a tunnel, leading deep into the earth.
Her heart skipped a beat as she approached the edge, peering down into the darkness below. The air that rose from the tunnel was cold, stagnant, and carried with it the faintest scent of something old, something forgotten.
The ritual had sealed the veil, but it had also awakened something else—something that had been buried deep beneath Al'Khari for centuries, waiting to be released.
Tình trạng nguồn điện hàng tuần
-- Xếp hạng
Quyền lực 
-- Đá
Quyền lực