Whispered Kiss

One Of A Kind

Impossible.

The thought rushed through his mind, taking form and rooting itself inside his soul. No matter how hard Bladen tried to sway the thought to change its course, it stuck.

It can't be. They're extinct.

The echoes of Bladen's mind latched onto the same sane and logic thought, and yet they denied themselves from believing the cold hard evidence. Evidence, which laid in front of him, watching Ave, watching him. Those eyes where the deepest pools of red he ever witnessed, glazed over they appeared lifeless and unfathomable.

Over the decades, Bladen speculated on whom and what Arel Mordenheim could be. However, he never expected Arel to be the rarest elemental in Damania since the extinction of the Blood Witches. No, he never expected to see the true Arel. With time, he grew accustomed to the inanimate, blackish broodmare encircling his life. At times he investigated the abysmal silhouette of Arel Mordenheim and couldn't find it in him to believe that a heart, a soul or a person hid behind it all. To see a man's face before him now, one he didn't recognise, made Arel a stranger. The old Arel lost to the abyss.

Gears clicked in place and began working overtime. A voice, too haunting for him to delve into, scratched at Bladen's mind. At the time, Elihandra Velvin's crazed sentence where nothing but fallen words, now he found a meaning behind them. "Has he not told you what he did-" the statement echoed through him.

Elihandra spoke of Arel, of the actions he took in his past. What did he do to contribute to Elihandra's rage? It couldn't pertain to the occurrence Arel and Ave spoke about, so what was it? Bladen knew Arel carried secrets, but could how many? Could these secrets hold the means of breaking an age-old war? Arel shared a direct link to Elihandra, a shared history, as Elihandra stated it. It was no wonder Arel sought a Blood Witch to break the binding encompassing him. Performed by a powerful Blood User as Elihandra, a binding could only be undone by the binder or a Blood Witch. Did Elihandra realise what Arel was when she cursed him? If so, why go to such extremes? Why not just drain him of his power source? Whatever went on between Arel and Elihandra, it reeked of a woman scorned.

Lost in his speculations, Bladen forgot himself, forgot the chaos around him, until Duwane barged through the broken door, his focus settling on Bladen. Those orbs of black flashed green as they assessed their master's condition and Bladen cringed. He was capable of taking care of himself, still, Duwane always sought to protect him and ensure his safety. Bladen didn't know if he should be flattered or annoyed. He settled on a slight itch of both emotions.

As reality returned with the surge of his emotions, it crippled him with the burden of moving forward. If only life could stand still for a fraction of a second, he needed rest, time to think, to reflect, but life didn't stand still for anyone.

Prioritize, Black. Deal with Arel first.

As much as Bladen wanted to seek Ave out first, check her for any harm, or question her on the explosion of power he witnessed, his male instincts took over, and he realised Arel Mordenheim laid naked on his floor as a new babe, revealing all.

"Duwane, fetch something to cover him." The order was weak and feeble but Duwane reacted and disappeared out of the room without a word of speculation or wonder.

Bladen took the opportunity to test the solidity of his legs by taking a step forward. The unbinding didn't last longer than half an hour, but the room shook during most of it, the tremors still ghosted through him. Despite the knowledge he accumulated of Blood Witches, he never experienced or witnessed the true use of their powers. To witness a Blood User, do blood magic gave him a small inclination of the way a Blood Witch worked, but he never saw the element of magic come to such a collision and merge together. Elemental power thrived in Damania, but what he experienced didn't come close to what he knew. He saw a stronger, fiercer vibrance within the magic. Not one speck of the power bore the same feel of the elemental magic he knew. It reeked of ancient, forgotten magic.