Primalcraft: Crimes of the Father (Book 3)

Chapter 27

Staring up at a blood-red sky, Blake felt the humid air sting his skin. His breaths came in short and raspy like there was no air. The ground was rough with black stone that formed into mountains, reaching for the blood-red sky like they were trying to pierce it.

Blake noticed that the stones were wet and he flinched when his skin touched the wetness, feeling the burning sensation on his skin. He rose hastily, rubbing his hands on his clothes to get rid of the burning wetness. His skin flamed red and he noticed that his shoes seemed to sizzle.

"What is this place?" Blake thought, noticing that nothing seemed alive in this horrid place filled with acid water. As the sky started to rumble, like it was warning him for the incoming rain, Blake hurriedly tried to reach for his powers. Trying to open a portal but... Nothing happens. He couldn't reach his source. This place was like a void, sucking away all magic.

The sky rumbled again, and Blake was now in full panic, trying to sense anything at all. A faint flicker of magic flowed into his mind. Like the flicker of a candle. Frowning, Blake focused on the source of the magic and felt it just a few steps away from him. His eyes turned toward a large stone and he walked carefully around it to see a dark fountain. It looked old and dark smoke was coming out of it. The magic coming out of it though was familiar. It was very similar to the hearth Ahriman had pulled out. It was almost identical though this one looked older, and scorched.

Feeling hope seep into his heart, Blake rushed over and leaned over the hearth, wondering how it worked. Much to his bemusement, the black smoke parted showing a reflection in the water. He saw Ahriman's reflection. He was looking away from him, talking to someone on the other side.

"Ahriman!" Blake shouted at the reflection, having a vague hope that he might hear him. The reflection didn't react at first, then Ahriman looked back at what Blake must assume was the hearth in the mortal realm. His eyes met Blake's and then his eyes went wide. Blake let out a sigh of relief. Ahriman could see him.

A flash crossed the sky, making Blake flinch. The rumbling of thunder had become louder and Blake could almost smell the incoming rain.

"Ahriman," Blake whimpered.

Like his voice reached him, Blake almost cried when the familiar arms reached around him and touched the fountain.

"Get closer to me," Ahriman's voice whispered and Blake trusted him without hesitation, pressing himself toward his chest. A small barrier pushed out of the fountain just in time to protect them from the rain.

The drops were green, sizzling and burning the ground as they touched it.

"What is that?" Blake whispered, still pressing himself close to Ahriman.

"The tears of Hel, the archon of death. It kills anything living touching it. Well, not an archon like me though. It just burns me, which is why my brother ensures that each day the rain falls for an hour, burning me," Ahriman said grimly, glancing up at the barrier. "It is strong once more. It kept flickering in the mortal realm..."

"So this is-"

"My prison."

"When I tried to escape, I tried to open a portal to where you were. How did I come to be here?" Blake asked.

"This is where my true self is bound. What you summons is only a reflection. A temporary refuge for me out of this place."

"Then how do we escape?"

Blake noticed that Ahriman didn't answer, looking up at a clenched jaw. "Ahriman?"

"There is no escape. Only my brother can come and go as he pleases. All other things are trapped in here."