"It's been two days since we submerged him in the water," Tawnylon's voice resonated in the dim room, laden with worry.

"I know, but I've seen him move among the crystal waves. That’s a sign that the water is working," Aolani replied, pacing restlessly, her steps making the wooden floor creak.

Tawnylon rose from the worn-out armchair where he had kept vigil and approached the oak tub. He placed a hand on its weathered edge while Aolani stood beside him, leaning against his shoulder with an anguished expression.

"This is the second time we've seen our son in such a state, so weakened and injured," Aolani murmured, burying her face in her husband's shoulder as silent tears rolled down her cheeks. "I can't help but question ourselves as parents."

"Don't say that," Tawnylon interrupted her with a voice both firm and gentle. "We must remain strong in the face of adversity. Thamuz needs our support throughout this process; we cannot falter now."

Suddenly, a faint groan broke the silence of the room, the lament of someone deeply pained.

"What is that sound?" Aolani asked, scanning the shadows to locate its source.

"It seems to be coming from the tub," Tawnylon replied, leaning cautiously toward the water's surface.

As he moved closer, he confirmed that the groan was emanating from its depths. He brought his ear near the water, but the sound ceased abruptly.

At that moment, Thamuz burst up violently, his hands reaching out as if to grasp the very air. Tawnylon stepped back instinctively while Aolani watched the scene, eyes wide with shock.

Thamuz clung to the edge of the tub, his breathing ragged, and his gaze, though unfocused, showed confusion.

"Son… you've awakened," Aolani stammered with a fearful voice.

"What... what happened to me?" Thamuz asked, equally disoriented.

"You were gravely injured after your fight with Bhaxmunt," Tawnylon explained, carefully examining his son's condition. "We brought you to Armesto’s mansion and submerged you in bandamenas water. Your recovery has been surprisingly swift."

The wounds Thamuz had suffered during his fight with Bhaxmunt seemed to have almost miraculously vanished, though some cuts and bruises still marked his skin as reminders of the brutal clash.

"Come, son, let me help you out of the tub," said Tawnylon, extending his hand to firmly grasp Thamuz’s right arm.

The moment he felt his father’s touch, Thamuz’s perception underwent an overwhelming transformation. The world around him was tinged with an ethereal blue, while his mother appeared as a reddish silhouette interwoven with green and orange sparks that danced like the northern lights.

His father, on the other hand, radiated a pulsating crimson light, like a living flame with a will of its own. Thamuz was mesmerized by this supernatural vision, but before he could process it, his right hand sprang to life on its own. His fingers, moving with a will not his own, clamped onto his father’s chest with inexplicable strength.

"What are you doing, son?" Tawnylon’s voice quivered with confusion and mounting alarm.

Thamuz watched in horror as his arm acted independently of his will. Suddenly, a scarlet light began to emanate from his hand, so intense that it bathed the room in a crimson glow. Tawnylon let out a bloodcurdling scream, as if an invisible force were tearing his soul from him.

"Son, you’re hurting your father!" Aolani’s desperate cry echoed as she lunged forward, trying to pry Thamuz’s arm away.

But the hand remained immobile, as if welded to his father’s chest, who was beginning to show signs of asphyxiation. In a desperate, lucid act, Thamuz raised his left arm, clenched his fist, and struck his own right arm with all his might. The impact dislocated his epicondyle bone with a chilling crunch, rendering the possessed hand useless.

Tawnylon collapsed backward, his skin turning a cadaverous shade as he clutched his chest with trembling hands. Aolani knelt beside him, her eyes filled with panic as she tried to help.

Overwhelmed by the horror of his involuntary actions and the searing pain in his injured arm, Thamuz submerged himself in the water again, leaving only his face exposed. He listened as his parents left the room hastily, his father’s violent coughs fading into the distance.

Confusion and fear gripped his mind as he struggled to understand what had just happened. That loss of control over his own body had left him deeply disturbed.

"I see you’re quite precocious in experimenting with new abilities," a rough, unfamiliar voice tore through the silence, sending chills down his spine.

Thamuz whipped his head around frantically, searching for the origin of the spectral voice that seemed to emerge from the very shadows. The room, however, remained empty, wrapped in a sepulchral silence that only made the situation more disturbing.

"Our pact has turned out to be much more successful than expected," the voice continued, with a tone of satisfaction. "Now I can communicate with you directly, without the need to rely on illusions or wait until you succumb to sleep."

Terrified by the voice that seemed to echo within his own mind, Thamuz covered his ears desperately, silently begging for the nightmare to end. But a cold touch on his chin froze him in place. With visceral fear, he slowly raised his gaze to meet the demon who had tormented him in his nightmares, its cadaverous, icy fingers gripping his chin.

"Hello, my little creation. I see you've recovered admirably," the creature spoke, flashing a grin that seemed to tear its face from ear to ear.

image [https://i.postimg.cc/bwvZrL0S/imagen-2024-11-04-135725951-cleanup.png]

Panic seized Thamuz, who stumbled backward violently, tripping over the tub and spilling its contents onto the wooden floor.

"Calm down, you’re still weakened from your previous encounter," the demon cautioned, advancing with calculated steps.

Thamuz instinctively stood up, raising his left arm defensively. He tried to lift his right arm, but the sharp pain from his self-inflicted injury held him back.

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"What kind of being are you? What do you want here?" he demanded in a fearful voice.

"Don’t you remember me? Have you forgotten our conversations?" the creature asked, extending its arms in a theatrical gesture of perplexity.

The initial confusion in Thamuz began to clear as fragments of memory surfaced from the depths of his mind. The visions, the conversations, the promises… everything was beginning to take on a horrible clarity.

"No... it’s impossible. I thought it had all been a nightmare, just an illusion," he murmured, gradually lowering his guard.

"Technically, our encounters took place on the dream plane," the demon explained, intertwining its bony fingers. "But thanks to the considerable amount of power you've absorbed, I can now manifest before you in the physical world."

"Absorbed? I haven’t absorbed anything," Thamuz protested indignantly.

"Oh, really? Then how would you explain what you just did to your father?" the demon questioned, its eyes blazing like burning embers.

The creature's piercing gaze struck Thamuz like an icy dagger. He looked down at his right hand, which still seemed to move with a will of its own, and the horrible reality began to take shape.

“No… it can’t be. You really did it” Thamuz murmured, horror growing in his voice.

“Precisely,” the demon confirmed with a malicious smile. “We had an agreement, remember?” Its sarcastic tone echoed in the room like the hiss of a snake.

“This is all my fault,” Thamuz spat bitterly. “What I did to my father was because I accepted your damned deal. I don’t want it anymore! Make it disappear!”

“Disappear?” The demon let out a dry laugh. “Why waste such a gift? The absorbing power of your right hand is just beginning to manifest. Removing it would be… a regrettable setback.”

With a desperation-born resolve, Thamuz raised his left arm above his head, positioning his hand like a blade over his right wrist.

“If you refuse to take it away, I’ll do it myself!” he roared, his voice trembling with both fury and terror. “I’d rather sever my own hand than hurt my family again!”

The demon’s eyes widened at this declaration, retreating until it melded into the shadows in the darkest corner of the room. Only its crimson eyes remained visible, glowing with an unnatural intensity.

“Go ahead,” the creature taunted him. “If you dare.”

Doubt paralyzed Thamuz momentarily as his mind vividly replayed recent events: the look of horror on his father’s face as life slipped away from him, the heart-wrenching anguish in his mother’s eyes… all because of this cursed limb that no longer felt like his own.

With a cry that came from the deepest part of his being, Thamuz brought his hand down violently. But inches from his target, an invisible force stopped his motion. No matter how hard he struggled, his body would not respond, and he finally collapsed onto the soaked floor.

“It seems you also forgot another crucial detail,” the demon’s voice dripped with satisfaction as it raised a bony hand. “I can control your body from within. Right now, I am contracting each of your muscles in the most painful way possible… so much so that you can’t even scream.”

The terrible truth manifested in Thamuz’s body: his muscles twisted beneath his skin like frenzied serpents, while his throat tightened, denying him even the release of a scream.

The sound of footsteps approaching down the corridor shattered the macabre moment. The demon dissipated into the air like black smoke, releasing Thamuz from its torturous grip.

The door opened with a creak, revealing Aolani holding a handful of bandages and a glass brimming with bandamena water. Her face lit up with a motherly smile, cruelly contrasting with the horror that had just transpired.

image [https://i.postimg.cc/kXRnpZyc/Leonardo-Anime-XL-Explore-the-range-of-styles-and-variations-w-1-removebg-preview.png]

"Hello, son, how are you feeling?" Aolani asked gently, raising the bandages like a peace offering.

Thamuz, still recovering from the ghostly pain that gripped his muscles, barely managed to lift his head to see his mother approaching. In a burst of panic, he scrambled up, backing away as he extended his left hand in a desperate gesture of warning.

"Don’t come any closer, mother!" he pleaded, his voice breaking with anguish. "I don’t want to hurt you."

Aolani froze at her son’s heartbreaking plea as he continued to retreat until his back hit the cold wall. In a protective move, he hid his right arm behind his body as if it were a deadly weapon.

"I don’t want to hurt you, I don’t want to hurt you, I don’t want to hurt you," he repeated like a desperate mantra, covering his face with his left hand.

His sobs began to fill the room, a harrowing cry that revealed all the anguish and terror consuming him. Aolani’s heart ached at her son’s suffering. Without hesitation, she moved closer, kneeling to meet him at eye level, trying to catch his gaze.

"Calm down, my child. I’m here with you," she whispered gently as she softly stroked his hair.

The maternal touch began to take effect, like an invisible balm slowly easing the tension in his body. Thamuz lifted his gaze, meeting his mother’s eyes, which were overflowing with love and understanding.

Though tears continued streaming down his cheeks, his breathing began to steady as he wiped his face with a trembling hand.

"How is father?" he asked in a hoarse voice.

"He’s recovering," Aolani replied, a faint smile on her face. "Armesto helped him back to the rooms and gave him an entire barrel of bandamenas water. You should have seen it—he lifted that barrel like it weighed nothing, and your father drank as if he were a parched creature."

The image drew a faint laugh from Thamuz, momentarily dispelling the heavy atmosphere. Aolani seized that moment of calm to prepare the bandages she had brought.

"Let me see your right arm, son," she asked softly, extending her hand.

Instantly, panic returned to Thamuz’s face as he drew his cursed arm further back. Aolani, sensing his fear, approached with even more care.

"Listen to me, dear," she said in a firm yet gentle tone. "Armesto has limited reserves of bandamenas water; we can’t fill the tub for your recovery. I need to bandage your arm to help you heal. Please, let me help you."

Aolani’s maternal insistence echoed in Thamuz's mind like hammer blows of conscience. The worry and love in her voice finally broke down his last barriers, and, with slow, cautious movements, he began to extend his right arm.

To his surprise, the hand that moments before seemed to possess a life of its own was now still, as if it had never been the instrument of that horrifying display of power.

Aolani took his arm gently, and a faint whimper of pain escaped Thamuz as her fingers brushed against the dislocated epicondyle. With precise movements, she began pouring the bandamenas water over the injured area, massaging softly to help the healing liquid absorb.

“Aren’t... aren’t you afraid of me?” Thamuz whispered fearfully. “After what I did to father?”

Aolani paused, looking up at her son as she exhaled deeply. She resumed her task, wrapping Thamuz’s shoulder and arm with the bandages in steady, methodical motions.

“Of course I felt fear,” she admitted calmly. “Seeing your father on the brink, witnessing that crimson light consuming the room... it was terrifying. But fear has no place in a mother’s heart when it comes to caring for her child, that special being who gives meaning to my life and reminds me every day of the gift that is having a family.”

Aolani’s words struck deep in Thamuz’s soul, melting the icy terror that had paralyzed him. New tears, this time of gratitude, rolled down his cheeks.

“Thank you...” he murmured in a broken voice.

With the bandaging complete, Aolani offered him the remaining bandamenas water. Thamuz drank slowly, feeling the coolness soothe his raw throat.

“Would you like to go outside for some fresh air?” Aolani suggested, standing and extending her hand. “Narek, Armesto, and Yakrare have all been very worried about you.”

“I’d love to,” Thamuz replied, taking her hand for support as he rose.

Once on his feet, mother and son embraced deeply, exchanging a love and comfort that words could never express. As they separated, they moved toward the door. Aolani stepped forward, leaving it slightly open for her son, but just as Thamuz was about to follow, a chilling whisper froze him in his tracks.

“The right hand, the most powerful, the most dominant...”

Turning, Thamuz spotted the silhouette of the demon lingering in the shadows, barely visible but unmistakably present. The creature held its right hand aloft in a gesture of cruel mockery.

image [https://i.postimg.cc/Znh1s7Yf/imagen-2024-11-04-135725951-cleanup-modified.png]