Chapter 98: Gathering
Vireth pulled at the chains around the doorknob, checking for one last time to make sure she would be left alone during the Assembly. Her collection of shadows, lined across the shelves in the room—each one placed neatly in vials bound by her [Soul Threads]—stirred slightly as she lay over her couch.
She counted the days for the last week like a child promised a big surprise for her sixth birthday, even if she got odd looks from the cult members who seemed baffled to witness the Ninth Witch of the Wretched Mother’s court smiling widely instead of being confronted by her usual cold demeanor.
Pull yourself together. You can’t make another mistake in the Assembly!
Vireth nodded with strength and closed her eyes, caressing the ring she wore on her right index finger.
It was strange. For years she had to rely on the ring given to her by her Mother to take part in the Midnight Assembly, which turned out to be an Ancient Cursed Artifact. But now, she could feel the invitation being presented to her from beyond the gate in her chest cavity.
He is real… This whole thing is real!
She giggled as she let the call take her to the Spiritum.
….
Baht wheezed out a breath, one hand shading his eyes from the sandstorm erupted out of nowhere and without prior warning. The Sagaharan Desert had been silent for the last week, but today it seemed as though it wanted to remind the poor souls suffering through its endless reaches of its damning, eternal wrath.
The winds nicked him badly as he made his way to a singular cave jutting out of the wavering waves of sand, flung himself inside and down through its depths. It was biting cold here in the evening, but the walls around him provided a much-needed relief for his worn bones.
He stopped when he couldn’t hear the screams of the storm anymore and sat groaning down to the ground. With a Lifesurge, he fixed the slits opened around his bare arms, washing them with waves of lifemana before managing a clumsy stitch.
It’s too hard to get a sense of this. I can almost feel the wound’s existence like it is alive, but whenever I try to do something about it I lose the connection.