Returning from the Celestial City was a lot like falling. On one hand, it was easy.
On the other?
“Oof!” Jordan cried out as he tumbled to the floor, 0 for 2 for sticking the landing while traveling Realms.
While he lay on the floor, Rahm and Kioko walked in with a spray of petal blossoms far more gracefully. Kioko spared a moment to kneel down and check on Jordan—and was appeased by his small grunt of ‘I’m alive’—as Rahm nonchalantly continued forward.
Stretching in the fresh air of the courtyard, the old man turned to regard the tree that defined the space. Jordan stood up with Kioko’s aid, and turned to match his gaze, curiously.
It started slowly, but like a picture losing contrast, the tree began to wither and turn grey. After a moment, the grey-tone spreading over it sped up, quickly growing to overtake the plant. Petals fell, disappearing into the air with small flashes, before the entire courtyard became quiet like a mausoleum.
“Uhm,” Jordan said, “is it supposed to do that?”
“I’m not surprised.” Rahm shrugged twice over. “They usually close off the Crossing Points I make.”
“Usually?”
Kioko leaned next to Jordan and said, “Every time,” as the old man chuckled.
The man’s mirth was quickly interrupted, however, as the entire courtyard trembled.
“Fuck me—what the hell was that!?” Kioko shouted.
Rahm swung his gaze towards a wall near the hallway’s entrance. “I, ah, I think that’d be Aury’s mother.”
Kioko raised an eyebrow as she turned towards the same wall. “So… why am I detecting an absurd amount of fury?”
Rahm nonchalantly turned to the side and coughed. “I… may have left out some details about where I was taking my Granddaughter.”
“You what!?” Kioko shrieked back at him, making Jordan wince from the volume.
“Yeah, he was really vague,” Jordan jumped in. “Is that a problem?”
“Aureliana… your mother probably thinks you're dead.”
“Seriously? Why?” Jordan found that hard to believe. The old man had been… evasive, but everything had worked out. Sort of. What was the problem?
Kioko huffed dramatically, shaking her head. “Kid, you should’ve died the moment you went up there! I only figured out how you survived based on you literally standing there in front of me, and because I’m a Shaman.”
Jordan cocked his head quizzically. “Wait, really? But you have that summoning thing you do—how are you not a summoner?”
“Now’s really not the time to discuss Classes,” She dismissed Jordan, turning towards Rahm. “What the hells is the plan here, old man? I don’t fancy getting into a fight with the Steel-Heart Courtier.”
“Who?” Jordan asked.
“Er, that’s your mother, Aury.” Rahm answered. “And, ah… you kno—”
“Don’t you fucking dare dart off and leave me to pick up this mess.” Kioko growled.
Rahm jerked, paralyzed instantly on the spot despite having not moved an inch. Jordan eyed the old coot’s shin murderously, standing with Kioko in solidarity. He respected his Sofu, but that didn’t stop him from instantly believing Kioko’s accusation.
“Look, girls I—”
Kioko gave Rahm a soul withering glare. Jordan was quite impressed by it, and did his best to mirror it next to her. The old man shrunk even further under their combined ocular assault.
“F-fine…” Rahm gave in. Walking over to a rock, he huffed and sat down. As petulant as a damn Spirit, Jordan observed.
While they waited patiently like adults, it didn’t take long for even Jordan to detect Mercia’s arrival. The mansion creaked and groaned as the sounds of explosions and smashing grew ever closer. They also briefly grew distant, making Jordan suspect that even the Brat’s mother wasn’t immune to the mind affecting hallway, but then a new series of booms, that were far more aggressive, preceded to sound out.
Detecting the angle of excavation, Kioko grabbed Jordan and moved him back. And it wasn’t a moment too soon, as near instantly one of the walls adjacent to the courtyard shattered with an ear piercing scream. Mercia walked over the rubble, having completely bypassed the hallway with the help of Rahm-levels of property damage.
“You never shoul—” The woman froze instantly when her eyes landed on Jordan.
Rahm sighed, cracked his neck, and stood up. “Alright, let’s get this over with then. Yeah, yeah, I took her to the Celestial City, but look how well she’s doing!” Rahm gestured twice over towards Jordan, who stood there in a torn dress covered in grime, caked in black sweat with hair so messy it was half way to becoming a mobius strip. Well indeed.
For his part, Jordan just winced, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Mercia walked closer as Kioko stepped back, abandoning Jordan to his fate. I’d blame her more… but I’d have done the same thing, he silently forgave the cat-girls retreat.
Raising his eyes to meet the Brat’s mothers… Jordan didn’t find what he’d expected.
Her face was held like a perfect mask, crowned with two horns glowing ominously. And yet, as she met his gaze, they crumbled to dust and the woman's face broke. Her eyes pinched as her face scrunched with pain, and she collapsed in front of Jordan, hugging him close. It… hurt something inside him, and it was all he could do to hold on as his tears joined hers.
She said nothing more as she held him, both of them sobbing into the otherwise silent courtyard.
----------------------------------------
Shortly thereafter, Jordan found himself in a carriage. He was more than happy to walk no further—given the state of his feet—though he was filled with a growing sense of apprehension.
While the reunion had not descended into destruction and battle as he’d expected (he could admit Rahm may have inured him towards spontaneous violence), it had revealed something rather embarrassing.
Jordan apparently… stank. Given how the Celestial City had smelled to him, he could only assume the Essence of the place had clung on. While he would have been happy to head off for a shower, Mercia insisted that he join her at the family’s hot springs.
He had been less than enthused by the proposal, but the tears staining the woman’s face had melted his resistances. He just hoped that it wouldn’t end up being too terrible.
The springs themselves were on the Estate’s premise, but considering the many miles it stretched, Jordan wasn’t exactly surprised. Meeting them there were Catella and Constantine, and Jordan was happy to find out that Catella had gotten her new pendant.
Her sudden, terrifying Yeeting smacked into him with all the force of a rubber duck thrown by a sleepy toddler. It was a nice change of pace.
But what really hit home was the giant hug Constantine gave him, lifting him in the air laughing as they spun. While it was embarrassing as a full grown man, despite his reincarnated situation, it was also gratifying on a level he would never deny. It didn’t take long for further water works to begin and Jordan reveled in a small moment with his new father. It was wonderful, even if his feet were dangling in the air.
After emotions settled, and a few more hugs were exchanged (with Catella complaining loudly about Jordan’s smelliness), Constantine and Rahm separated from the group. They cited it would have been inappropriate to join the ladies in the springs and they had some business to discuss. Kioko, however, decided to join Jordan and the two other Freyhell women on thier bath trip.
The area around the location they went to was green and lush, and the building itself was a rich brown wood resting on naturally uneven-looking stone foundations. Opposite from it was a similar structure, so Jordan assumed they were gender segregated given Constantine’s remarks previously.
After removing his travel-worn clothing and rinsing briefly, Jordan walked out of the changing room to see that it led to an indoor section filled with water. Its walls were open, however, revealing that the artificial pond could be traversed for quite a ways out in the open. Beyond the water was more greenery before large wooden walls enclosed the area.
As the first one out (his surviving outfit had been rather sparse after all), Jordan kept a towel wrapped around him as he hesitantly stepped into the water. The steam coming off of it gave him no doubt it was near boiling, but as he considered the caked on sweat that had resisted his rinsing, he was willing to suffer the heat.
“Atetetetet, ugh! So. Friggin’. Hot!” Jordan hissed, and did his best not to scream curses as he eased his way into the water, for fear of motherly reprisals if nothing else.
Once he was waist deep and his brain stopped screaming at him that he was boiling alive, he pushed his way further into the pool and out of the entry room. The sun was mostly obscured behind light clouds, but he wanted to enjoy the natural feel of the area. After the hell that was the Celestial City, this place already felt like heaven—though he paused momentarily to check for any ‘peaceful’ sounding thumps. With the coast clear, he continued on.
Settling up against a scorching rock that quickly grew to become astonishingly comfortable, Jordan sat up to his neck in the waters and let himself begin to soak. He’d wondered why no one had forced him to scrub before entering, but as flakes of the black gunk coating his body came off, they dissolved in the waters and faded completely. The water shined majestically as it did, making Jordan assume an enchantment was at play.
Ducking down to get his face and hair cleaned while he was at it, Jordan surfaced just in time to hear someone else enter the water. Wiping his face, he turned to see the most gorgeous figured wom—
And he turned his head to the side to avoid ‘his’ mother’s rather noteworthy features. She had decided not to take a towel.
“Darling, are you alright? You’re flushed.” The woman came close, which didn’t seem strange to Jordan given how incessantly proximate she’d been on the ride over.
“I-I’m fine,” he quickly stammered. “I, ah, just would have expected you to wear something. That’s all.”
The woman made a quizzical noise, and Jordan glanced back at her. She really was beautiful, and he felt…
He felt nothing when he looked at her, he realized. Physically, at least. Mentally, he processed her as a ludicrously detailed beauty, more so without the gaudy jewelry and endless layers. Even without makeup she was unfathomably alluring.
And yet his body held no reaction—he’d flushed out of pure embarrassment. He knew he lacked the… ‘necessary’ tools now, biologically speaking, to react as a man would. But in many ways looking at her was like sitting in the boiling springs.
Though his brain continued to tell him he was burning, his body handled it with all the seriousness of a school counselor listening to your ‘problems.’ Though that could have been his bias talking as Jordan’s counselor and he hadn’t had a great relationship after Jordan started acting out after his brother’s… passing.
Regardless, the dissonance between mind and body was something he knew he needed to get used to. While it would’ve been natural, as a man and a stranger, for him to view Mercia in that light, it made him oddly appreciative that the Brat’s body had ignored his natural impulses. Even if Brat instinct could grate on him, it would’ve been unbelievably gross to have suddenly crushed on the Brat’s family.
Of course it could also just be because this body is pre-pubescent. Can’t rule that out either. His thoughts turned sour at the prospects of future ‘development.’
“I’m sorry I let you go with him.” The voice was quiet, and with a small jump Jordan realized the Brat’s mother had settled up next to him.
“Its…” Jordan hesitated, biting his lip. He wasn’t sure what he should say.
But he immediately wished he hadn’t said anything at all, as the women looked instantly on the verge of tears again. Of course she is. One word is all she needs to know everything I didn’t say. Jordan looked away fidgeting.
This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.
“I… would prefer if you told me, Aureliana.”
“You—but why? You already know everything I could’ve said.” He waved offhandedly, not surprised in the least that she had somehow read through his stoicism.
“That can be true, but even so—to silence you when you have a right to talk would be wrong. It will be… good for you to speak. I’m sorry for all the times that I’ve taken that from you since you woke up.”
The woman's image got bleary in Jordan’s eyes, before he sighed and wiped at his face. He…
“I, ah… I’m grateful that Sofu helped me. I really am, but… the last two days have been a lot to deal with. Especially with… everything else going on.”
The women nodded again. Jordan was debating what else to say, when they were interrupted by the sounds of giggling. Entering into the pool area were Kioko, looking irritated, and Catella swatting at the cat-girl’s tail playfully. Charlie joined as well, though he prowled around, looking uncertainly at the water. The two girls were also nude, but gritting his teeth Jordan forced himself to acknowledge the reality before him.
It… did get easier to not feel flustered, and the two girls joined them, followed shortly after by the trepidatious Carbuncle.
For a time, Mercia, Jordan, and Kioko sat in amused silence watching Catella and Charlie play. They had races to see who could reach the far end, with Charlie proving to be an excellent swimmer.
He never stood a chance, however.
It was impossible for him to beat the Yeeting Missile! Jordan was convinced she’d been trained by the Koi-Devils in the garden, as Catella exploded through the water, throwing a huge wave in her wake that smashed into them. Mercia sighed sadly, but didn’t stop the rambunctious youth. Jordan just spat out the water that got in his mouth when he gaped like an idiot in surprise. I should have seen this coming, he thought.
After Charlie’s failure to win the race, he fled to a deep end of the pool in shame and hid underwater. Jordan worried about how long he was down there, but after voicing his concerns to Kioko, Charlie appeared shortly after and presented a document from his fur.
It was a diver’s certification.
Jordan had to be propped up to keep from drowning from the sass as even Mercia briefly succumbed to a laughing fit.
Not long after, as it had already been late when Jordan’s trip ended, the sun began to set as they relaxed. Lights hanging on the wood and surrounding the pond’s edge illuminated, beautiful golden crystals suffusing everything with a soft light while offering little in the way of obnoxious glares.
Eventually, Catella tired herself out and snuggled into her mother’s lap. Grateful to be free, Charlie begged Kioko to leave. She agreed with a chuckle at her familiar’s pitiful look, and bade the rest of them farewell while promising to join them later for dinner. She’d seemed surprisingly happy in the water, which had confused Jordan given her cat-nature, but he figured personal preference could trump bestial traits.
After they were gone, Jordan was startled by a hand that brushed aside some of the annoyingly long hair covering his eyes. His recently fixed hairdo had been disheveled once more by Catella's tsunamis.
“Did you wish to continue our discussion?” Mercia asked. Jordan looked at her in confusion, as her voice had remained conversational despite the sleeping child hugging her.
“Are… you sure that won’t wake her up?” Jordan replied softly.
“Oh, you’d need to do a lot more than talk to wake this little devil.” Mercia said, chuckling as she jostled Catella. The tiny missile just mumbled before letting out a small snore.
“Good to know,” Jordan echoed her chuckled. “I…” Jordan still struggled with what to say.
“What was the City like?” Mercia carried the conversation. He was thankful for that.
It took a while, rambling through descriptions of places and locations, and then eventually events and people, to fill in Mercia. She seemed appropriately awed and equally irritated at much of what Jordan said. But despite his worries, she didn’t get upset.
She listened. She listened and he… talked until he found himself leaning up against her with an arm around his shoulder.
“He isn’t a bad guy, you know. He’s sad, but there was so much… everything there. Death, destruction, I… got really scared a lot.” Jordan tried to ignore the small voice in his mind, reminding him that men didn’t confess such things. His trembling body made it easier to do so.
“I know darling. But he is an Immortal. You need to realize that when People reach that Level, and especially after a few centuries pass, they stop being normal. I don’t… actually doubt that your Grandfather had your best interests in mind. But he can be inadvertently cruel, and I worry what he may do in his negligence..”
“Yeah, I can see that. I… kind of feel bad for Kioko. Why does she put up with him, do you know?”
“I have my suspicions, but I wouldn’t want to speak about them without her present. Her kind can be… sensitive and I wouldn’t wish to compound the cruelties of her fate.”
“Her kind? What, cat-folk?”
Mercia looked at him oddly. “I suppose you wouldn’t know, would you?”
“Know…?”
“She’s what’s referred to as a Kittenkin, though that term is sometimes viewed as derogatory. They’re a… variant on the Tigerborn.”
“Races can have variants?”
“Yes, it’s not uncommon, though it is rare.” She said. “We’re considered a variant on the Proudborn ourselves, though in Kioko’s case hers was… forced on her. A transformation that paused her permanently in puberty.”
Jordan’s eyebrow shot up, but he remembered something Kioko had said the day before.
‘Look, I… I get it, okay? I know what it’s like… to feel helpless. Trapped in your own body.’
Unbidden, Jordan breathed deep as his Ki flowed and the words themselves appeared in his mind. He wasn’t sure if his memory was good because of the skill he just used, or if the words had stuck with him given how much they resonated with his own situation. Thinking back to some of the other things Kioko had said, Jordan decided to ask a clarifying question.
“Do you know how old Kioko is?”
Mercia grimaced, and chewed her lip. “I’m not entirely sure but she’s older than I am. Perhaps in her early fifties? She's a higher Level than I, so it would be hard to tell. The closer to the Level Barrier you get, the slower you age.”
“O-oh…” A lot of things snapped into place with that. “Who did that to her? Do you know?”
“She’s from a nation far to the East, called the Empire of Hovalon. They don’t view Beastkin as People there, only a different breed of Monsters.”
“So they hurt her because of that?”
“To the Hovalonians, that’s a means to control development and behavior. It’s how they ‘tame’ them, and they have varying procedures for their enslavement of all of the Beastkin races. Their alchemical concoctions are frighteningly advanced.”
“That’s awful…” Jordan had a lot more choice words he wanted to use, but didn’t feel like being berated for cursing. Instead he asked, “So she really can’t develop physically past where she is now, because of that?”
“Correct. In the case of Tigerborn, they all start out as ‘kittenkin’ as you’ve seen with Kioko. However after puberty they grow to the size and physicality of your Chef, Duan.”
“Oh, dam—er, man that’s a big difference.” Jordan hastily covered his curse, and Mercia mercifully didn’t call him on it.
Stuck in the throes of puberty for her entire life though? Jordan shivered at the thought. He’d known his own situation was less than ideal but…
But his thoughts also turned back to his own situation. He felt bad for Kioko, and actually cared for her a great deal given the support she’d offered him. They’d gone through a lot together, but he needed to know… things.
“Is there… anything weird about our puberty?” Jordan asked the question as delicately as he could. While he didn’t see anything questionable on the woman next to him, he didn’t exactly have access to Wikipedia to check on Demonkin. Or even just… female development in general. He knew the basics, obviously, but a part of him kind of wanted to ask her about that just in case. But it was too embarrassing, so he decided not to say more than what he had.
“I… think I’m a bit confused by your question, darling. Do you mean as far as physical transformation of our race, or are you worried about developing as a woman?”
Of course she picked up on it anyway, Jordan grumbled silently. Swallowing his ‘manly’ pride, he said “B-both, I guess.”
“Well, as far as transformations go, once we begin applying softener to your nails they should become less dangerous to you after a few years of application. Past that, our lineage can sometimes grow stunted vestigial wings, but if they do come in we’ll have to clip them away for health concerns. You’ll also gain your next age Talent shortly after puberty.”
“As a woman,” she continued, “you will begin experiencing far more dramatic changes in the next few years.”
She continued on, telling Jordan mostly what he already knew while he did his best to be attentive. He knew that aspects of his form would grow, like his hips and chest. He hadn’t known about how small ‘bulbs’ would appear just below his nipples—signaling the coming of said breasts—and he listened to that explanation with the same level of enthusiasm as he did finding out the menstrual cycle applied to Demonkin as well.
The next few years clearly promised to be eventful with the blossoming of womanhood. He was almost sorry he asked, until his worries and curiosities were answered in equal measure when Mercia mentioned something that wasn’t familiar.
“Along with your cycle will come the need for regulation and concentration of the Feminine Essence in your reproductive organs. Leading up to that time, I or your Governess—when we find a new one, of course—shall help instruct you in the proper meditative requirements.”
Jordan pulled away and stared at the women. “Um, w-wait, I think I… ah, I think I missed that last part. Feminine Essence?”
It sounded like a feminism cry to him at first, but enough time exposed to the ‘wonders’ of his current form had taught him to bite back his cynical misogyny.
Mercia nodded, though had an odd look of guilt to her as she said, “Inside your womb you will begin developing the Genesis Essence necessary for reproduction when you’re a full-grown woman. There will be certain requirements you’ll need to abide by for your own health as well as for the need to produce children in your future.”
She sounds so damn clinical, Jordan thought. He grimaced at the idea of… producing, but said “What kind of… requirements? Is this related to the meditation you mentioned?”
“Correct. Er, I take it you don’t recall the… full functionings of reproduction, darling?”
Jordan’s face turned bright red once more.
“It would seem our last conversation on the matter was in vain, thanks to your memory’s... state. What joy, I suppose, that we get to revisit it a second time. Well… when a husband and wife—”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa! That’s, er, nope I get that part, I think, it’s, ah, the other part I didn’t understand. I know how the connections between pairings work!” Jordan had tried to make a joke about computer sockets, but it predictably translated oddly.
It still got his point across as Mercia pursed her lips trying not to laugh. Trying, being the operative term there.
“Very well.” She said, once she was composed, though still smiling. “I suppose the primary thing to consider then, would be the production of a child of sufficient Bloodline Rank. By base, all children will be born at the lowest level of Bloodline, that of the [E] Rank. The average Rank between parents sets the difficulty to raise the child’s Rank higher.”
She readjusted a snoring Catella and went on. “It takes a great deal of energy to produce a child of the higher Ranks, such as yourself. Insufficient concentration of Genesis Essence from the parents can stunt the growth of the Core in the womb, so both partners must work diligently to regulate and concentrate their gender’s portion of this Essence type.”
Jordan nodded, not thrilled with the topic at hand, of course, but he remembered the ‘love’ that Catella had explained to him.
“So that’s why,” he said, “you have to let it build over the years?”
Mercia nodded. “There are Skills that can be used to help, and in fact, once you raise the fetus’s Bloodline Rank beyond [C] it requires Skills utilizing Mana to raise higher. It can be dangerous, however.”
Jordan put two and two together. “Is… that why Catella has a low Rank? She said you felt really guilty about it.”
“She’s… not wrong.” Mercia admitted. “I became distraught after we discovered your heart’s Condition and had a moment of, er, weakness with your father. But we weren’t ready for another child, and while I tried to salvage things with Catella… I was terrified that I’d harm her. I did both too little, and too much for her as a result. Now her life will forevermore be a shadow of what could have been.”
The woman looked near tears once more as she gently rocked her child back and forth. Worried for a child that would likely be mocked by her Noble peers for her weakness. For being an accident with a diminished future and marriage potential.
But Jordan put the other two and two together.
“Moment of… weakness?”
“Er, sexual intercourse darling. I apologize I mentioned it, I didn’t mean to make you even more uncomfortable.”
Aside from Jordan’s radiant cheeks, he wasn’t so much upset as… suddenly worried about the implications. Not for his own immediate concerns, but for society in general.
“Can… people not have, er, sex,” he whispered the word, “without screwing things up?”
The Brat’s mother looked equal parts abashed by Jordan’s words as she was entertained at his glowing visage. A healthy blush was on her own face as she said, “N-no, dear. Intercourse will expend the stored energy within the reproductive organs. Outside of outliers with special Bloodline Qualities and Talents, or those of Ranks low enough not to care, the Nobility actively practice celibacy outside of conception.”
Oh sweet baby Jesus. Jordan was not even sure where to begin processing that bomb. While he was perfectly content waiting until the heat-death of the universe to get frisky in his flesh-prison, the idea of a society ruled by sexual-repressed nobility?
I thought the Celestial City was bad. He sighed morosely and decided it was time to put the pool, and conversation, behind him.
He was getting pruney anyway.
----------------------------------------
Catella was dutifully carried off to her quarters while Jordan and Mercia met up with a returning Kioko for an evening meal. It wasn’t in his mansion's kitchen, but on a gazebo overlooking a small field set between several buildings on the Estate’s grounds. The location was intimate, with its perfectly reasonable size and absolutely mundane (though beautiful) materials.
Jordan had been getting very tired of endless jewels and precious metals filling spaces larger than minds could comprehend.
It was also the first time he was able to see the stars of this new world. The clouds from earlier had mostly disappeared, and the unfamiliar constellations hung twinkling in the sky bathed in a multihued bath of colors from a nebula resting over them. Crowning it all was a bright moon, white with a blue tinge, shadowed by an ominous black orb beyond it. He recognized Avala and Echo, the moons of Ænerith. They’d been on the cover art for HMIA, though he did have to be reminded about their names from the others.
The meal itself was a light platter of sushi, though far more intricately designed than Jordan had ever seen. That didn’t surprise him—he would've hardly expected the food to look like the cheap store-bought stuff he’d eaten on Earth. It was also disconcerting, at first, to be served by regular-looking servants rather than the Harlot’s Horde, but she apparently wasn’t allowed to leave the Brat’s mansion. They were nice enough, though one of the men smiled a little too much for Jordan’s liking.
It reminded him too much of the awful way Rahm could smile when he was in psycho-Immortal mode.
The conversation was mostly polite and inane, though Jordan did notice that Kioko was doing a lot better at small talk now that they were back on solid ground, as it was. He considered bringing up some of the topics he’d discussed with the Brat’s mother earlier, but…
Kioko looked genuinely happy, enthused even as they ate. She… really liked fish, it seemed. And probably freedom, to be fair.
For his part, the food was within tolerance levels, with only a little bit of squealing, eye rolling, and leg kicking. It was only half the normal concentration of Essence that normal food had, of course, but true to his word (for once), Rahm had been correct that the cultivation of Jordan’s Core made it easier for him to process food.
So he was very surprised when he suddenly spat up blood.
“By the Princes, is that—” Mercia was first to respond, jumping up to stand by Jordan.
“I don’t—” Jordan was interrupted as his guts seized. His evening garments lacked an enchanted corset, and his food came up in a bloody slurry.
He had difficulty concentrating after that. The world kept fading in and out as the two women shouted. A flash of fire came nearby and a woman in black armor, with red wings and hair, appeared before flying off leaving the smell of burning blood in the air.
People ran around, as someone held him. She wept and begged, but Jordan couldn’t hear her properly, nor see through the red painting his vision. It was all he could do to breath as his body burned from within and sanguine fluids clogged his throat. A pain in his chest struck him at some point, as a sense of ruin and despair filled him.
But before his consciousness faded to black, he finally remembered…
He’d completely forgotten about the assassination attempt from his Fate.