Whispered Kiss

Past Advice

Blood. The word Bladen's life revolved around. The word embodied the life essence of all beings, and in Damania, blood-power got used more often than Elemental power. The link to plasma, if used wisely, could be manipulated with the magic in the wielder's soul, and eased out of the body to be morphed into a weapon.

For Bladen, he witnessed this numerous times. His upbringing started with the basics of it all. His father believed he needed to take up the war against Blood Users. They were tainted, and not pure Elementals. Blood User were required to consume someone'slife essence and a drop of a Blood Witch's blood, to gain differentabilities. They were the products of Elihandra's backlash on the world and most of them were under her command. They couldn't exist without breaking the rules of true magic.

Bladen happened to be a child of a powerful and pure Elemental, and his father expected him to live the part. Fight the good fight. He loathed it.

As a child learning to dispel Blood Users from their bloody weapons, Bladen often cried after the initial attack. There laid a certain sense of horror in having blood splatter on your face, and in smelling its strong acidity. In the mind of a child, it caused unimaginable havoc. Bladen often dreamed of bloodied monsters under his bed, their scent wafting through his room like a thick cloud. To fight these monsters was a chore his shaking arms often couldn't conduct. His father dealt him numerous blows for his weakness and his inability to slay a simple Blood User. But, no matter how hard Bladen tried to harden himself, when a Blood User got brought to his training field, bound and alive, it broke him. It didn't matter if the user did something wrong to become different, to him, they were still flesh and bone. They were people. Real and alive.

Later, it became his job to rid Damania of those consuming and taking the blood of other elements or beings. However, by the time Bladen turned sixteen, trained enough in killing, he still couldn't stomach looking into the hollow eyes of Blood Users, until he came across a Blood User called Emil. The user was a man of destruction, a warrior to the core and a lover of raw power. With his high tolerance and skilled blood wielding abilities, he out-bested Bladen long enough to be the first Blood User to live past a year in his father's presence.

After a month of being defeated by Emil, a part of Bladen, the person who wanted to know if there were souls in the crimson eyes of Blood Users, dared ask Emil about it.

Why? Why become a Blood User? Why steal that which doesn't belong to you? How am I supposed to kill you without being condemned myself?

To this day, Bladen heard Emil's words each time he took up his sword, steel made specifically to nullify magic and blood. The weapon didn't display power, instead it appeared delicate, thin, casted in a special silver, but the weapon was stronger than most, and never let him down. He gripped the hilt of the sword tight, as his memories mixed with the situation he now faced.

He lowered to his haunches and commanded the hounds to yield. They picked up on Ave scent fast, leading him to his current destination. He knew they were close the moment the hounds started going into fight mode. They were impatient, foaming at the mouth, the waves of power hidden in their bodies pulsating from them, and though the hounds were capable of tearing limbs apart, he couldn't risk their safety. Whether out of love or to preserve a species teetering on the brink of extinction, he didn't know. He rubbed each of the dogs behind the ear, and commanded them to go home. He already informed Duwane they would be returning, and Bladen knew Duwane would track their movements and ensure they returned. The hounds were well-trained, and despite a moment of hesitation, their mood settled and they turned around and left Bladen behind.

Bladen squared his shoulders and breathed easier. They did their part, and together it took them a day to track Ave's location. A day which led to abandoned buildings with nothing but dust and a sliver of Ave's scent. No doubt a means Elihandra deployed to stall him. However, this time, as he stood behind a thick based tree, he could sense the magic emanating from the cold gothic stylised building. The building was a stark contrast compared to the surroundings. A statement to all who came upon it.