The tower itself seemed to tremble when Mona’s spell detonated, such was the power she now wielded. Though it took a moment for the smoke to fade, it was all too clear that the prisoner had taken the brunt of it—both the initial explosion and the burst of flames that followed.

The paladin had been thrown into the wall, which had probably given her a concussion, if not worse. She still lay where she’d fallen, sprawled across the stone, her clothing charred black, her body motionless. I couldn’t tell if she was dead or alive. How strange, I thought, that I still didn’t know her name.

I turned towards Mona, my eyes wide. She was leaning against the bars, breathing deeply, her face covered in sweat—I suppose the spell had demanded a lot from her.

“I, uh…” She shook her head as if to clear it, and when her eyes focused, she stared past me toward her fallen target. “I didn’t realize how strong it would be.” She looked down at her hands, shocked by what she had done.

Two guards ran in, drawn by the commotion, and pointed their spears at the dog-girl’s body as if that was in any way still needed. I turned to Lucifron and saw that he’d picked up his sword again but held it in his left hand while his right hung limply by his side. He was bleeding from a jagged bite wound in his lower arm, and a puddle of blood had formed by his feet.

She had bitten through his uniform and sunk her teeth right into his muscle. His wound looked grisly, though not as grisly as the paladin herself. A sickly sweet smell hit my nostrils, and it took me a moment to process the aroma of burnt flesh.

I felt something rise within me, my stomach doing a flip, and I strode out of the cell towards the railing that looked over the Void. I leaned over, my chest heaving, staring down into that distant, dark sun, suddenly glad to be starved of light.

After a moment, my feeling of nausea began to fade. I took a deep breath then another. But as my stomach settled, a seed of guilt grew. I couldn’t help but feel this was all my fault.

My fault for trying to imprison someone who had already attacked us once rather than killing her. My fault for goading her during the interrogation, for pressing her on her beliefs. And yet, it was also clear to me that Lucifron had underestimated her. How the hell had she gotten out of her restraints like that? Could all beastfolk do that? She must have grown to twice her human size in dog form, though calling her simply a dog seemed to underestimate her. She had transformed into a massive black hound from hell.

I felt a hand on my arm and looked over, hoping to see Mona by my side.

“Are you all right, Master?” Ilmatar asked.

Trying to hide my disappointment, I nodded at him. “Perfectly well. I only needed a moment to consider the situation.”

I turned slowly back to the cell and entered it with two long strides before I lost my nerve. I approached Mona, who was still leaning against the wall, her head tilted forward, her chest rising and falling as if she labored for breath.

“Desdemona,” I said and leaned towards her, placing my hand on her shoulder like I wished she had done for me. Only now did I realize that she needed me this time, far more than I needed her. That was a first. She looked utterly spent, and somewhat lost, as if in disbelief of what had happened. I leaned close and whispered in her ear, “Are you okay?”

A moment passed before she answered, and I heard her throat swallow nervously. “I will be, Master. You should worry about Darkstar.”

“You seem like you’re in shock.”

“It’s only that…” She looked over my shoulder towards our prisoner. “I’ve never killed anyone before.” She shrugged her shoulders. “Something I needed to get used to, sooner or later. Go help Lucifron.”

I would have to talk with her later about how she was feeling. But there seemed little point in arguing, and Lucifron was grievously injured. Unfortunately, I only knew of one way to help him, and it hardly seemed quick or practical. I didn’t suppose he would want to drink my cum, would he? Or lie there bleeding while I attempted to extract it.

But I had a theory.

“It’s not just my, uh, seed, is it?” I whispered to her.

Mona placed her lips against my ear. “Strictly speaking, all of your bodily fluids are imbued with a fraction of your Will and possess healing properties. Technically, even your saliva, though it’s far too weak to help in this case. Your blood, however…”

“Right,” I said. From the corner of my eye, I saw Ilmatar watching us, lurking outside the cell, and my voice dropped lower. “As a salve, or uh?”

It seemed funny, in a sad way—I was a “god” who needed to ask for step-by-step instructions.

Mona kissed me on the cheek and whispered through soft lips, “For Lucifron’s surface wound, applying it directly will be best. But it can be, uh, imbibed in some cases.”

I suppose it made sense. I thought back to the time I had cut myself with the ceremonial knife in front of Ilmatar and how shocked he had been. Perhaps my bloodletting had a deeper meaning than I’d realized.

I kissed Mona on the cheek in return, then walked over to Lucifron. “Hold out your arm, Darkstar, if you’d like.”

Lucifron looked towards the High Priestess for a moment, then myself. He shook his head awkwardly. “Thank you, Dark Lord, but I could hardly—”

“That looks like a nasty wound, Captain.”

“It just seems rather poor of me to take your vital essence, Master, considering I am the one who is supposed to protect you. Sadly, I was outmatched today. The High Priestess did a much better job of protecting you.” He sighed. “Once again.” As I looked into his eyes, I thought I saw something more than professional failure in how he looked at me. There was a more profound sense of shame, deep in the cold light of his Will, that I didn’t understand.

“So you lose one sword fight, and now you just want to have chunks of your arm missing as a punishment? More to the point, Captain, I thought I made myself clear. Hold out your arm.”

“When you put it that way.” He looked away sheepishly but slowly extended his wounded arm towards me.

“Ilmatar,” I began to say, but he was already standing right behind me as if he’d known I was about to call for him. “Knife.” I almost said please, but stopped myself at the last moment. “And Darkstar, roll up your damned sleeve.”

He did so in a brief panicked motion.

Ilmatar slid the knife from his belt and presented it to me smoothly. I took it and considered the blade. My first instinct was to slash it across my hand again before I realized I was being stupid. My intent this time wasn’t to make a show of it. I needed to access a vein where drawing blood would be easy. Which meant the upper arm, I thought. I’d donated blood before and tried to find approximately the same vein they’d chosen. Taking a deep breath, I plunged the knife in and made a small puncture which I hoped would be in a good spot.

The blood began to flow, and I held my arm above Lucifron’s wound, allowing it to drip. Some of the blood clung to my skin, and after a moment, I knelt on the floor and pressed my wound against his own. He had been harmed while protecting me, stepping between me and my attacker, so it seemed only fair to help him if I could.

I hope this works, I thought. I did feel something, a tingling sensation, as my blood entered his wound.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

“That should be enough,” Lucifron said, “I wouldn’t want to take any more than I need.”

I withdrew my arm and stepped back. I looked down at the blood still flowing from my injury, and then I turned my gaze back towards the paladin, who had been lingering in my mind even as I tended to my own. I still hadn’t checked if she were alive or dead.

I walked past the useless guards and knelt beside her, then with my uninjured arm, reached towards her neck, feeling for a pulse.

After being hit by the spell, she’d reverted to what appeared to be her natural state—a dog-like face, hands, feet, and tail, with long, sharp claws, but a human body otherwise. Her human skin was a deep, rich brown, and all her bestial features were covered in black fur. Seeing her like this, it was hard to think of the giant beast she had transformed into.

It seemed that her beastkin features took more effort to hide at her extremities—I had seen that her ears and tail never became human, even when she was conscious. Perhaps all she could do was push her monstrous nature into small parts of her body, not eradicate it completely.

It occurred to me that I had never seen Princess Nymphyra change form when she had been here. I wondered if she could. If I’d inspected her as I was supposed to, perhaps I would have seen it. There was so much I still didn’t know about the other Void-touched races. And about everything else in this world, for that matter.

I felt a faint beat in her vein, and I blinked slowly, seeing her Will still flickering within her chest. It had darkened compared to earlier, but it still smoldered. She wasn’t dead yet.

The thought of massaging my blood onto every inch of her body that Mona’s flames had charred seemed impossible. But perhaps…

Some of my blood had dripped down my arm, and I held it against the back of her head, which I saw had begun to bleed from her collision with the wall. As my blood mingled with hers, I felt that same tingling sensation as before. But the sensation was far more intense this time, as if electricity passed between us. Was it because her wounds were more serious? I felt as if my energy was being sapped. It was more than just the blood loss. My Will was using its energy to help her.

“Uh, Master? You can’t be serious,” Ilmatar said from behind me.

“I have more questions for her,” I said, which was the truth, though not entirely.

Because there was something else besides my aversion to violence. Perhaps I was naive, but when I had seen that haunted look in Mona’s eye, I had wanted to do what I could to dispel it. Mona was right—we would all need to get used to this kind of thing eventually. But if I could give her another month or two of peace, I would.

Worst of all, I thought Mona hadn’t meant to kill the woman, merely subdue her. Mona’s loss of control over her pyromancy was also, in a way, my responsibility since I’d been the one to supercharge her Will in the most unexpected of ways.

I felt the stares of the other demons on the back of my head, though they didn’t challenge me directly. Just Ilmatar. But I suppose this is what I deserved for asking him to always be honest with me. I could hardly complain about it now.

I blinked again and saw the paladin’s Will hanging there, a white star twinkling in the center of her body. It flickered, the light vanishing from existence for a heartbeat before it reignited, dimmer than before. I wasn’t doing enough. My bleeding had already slowed, such was the speed at which my body healed itself.

I grabbed the knife again, and debated for a moment the gravity of what I was about to do, how confident I was in my regeneration. But I had already gone too far to yield. I cut myself again, then cradled her head with my other hand as I held my arm above her mouth, allowing my blood to trickle onto her lips.

“Master,” Mona said from behind me, and I felt her hand on my shoulder. “You don’t need to do this.”

“I know,” I said and set myself to my task anyway. Though blood flowed into her mouth, how could I make her drink it?

I could tell by the rise and fall of her chest that she was still breathing. With my hand, I covered her nose. Her head twisted slightly, as if wishing to be free of the obstruction, but I held her firm, and then I watched her throat swallow.

I closed my eyes again, still allowing the blood to flow into her mouth, watching her Will. Its glow intensified briefly, flaring up before fading again, though I thought it looked brighter than before.

It had to be.

I allowed the blood to continue, blocking her nose when needed until she had swallowed twice again. Each time I paused to close my eyes and see that same bright, transitory glow. Even after the light had faded, it left her imbued with part of its energy. Her Will was growing brighter, a little at a time.

And yet, when I felt for her pulse, it still beat only faintly, with hesitance, and I wondered if what I was doing was even enough. It still shocked me that the demons had no doctors or even the concept of medicine beyond basic first aid. If you were hurt, you got better on your own or died. No wonder Lucifron had been so hesitant to take my blood.

I began to feel dizzy momentarily, dark spots flashing across my vision. I shook my head, trying to clear it while holding her mouth against me. In the corner of my eye I saw Mona crouched nearby, a worried look on her face, her hands hovering as if she wished to grab me but dared not.

And then I felt something strange and wondrous. The paladin moved, her muscles springing to life, and for a brief, confusing moment, I felt her tongue lap at my skin. She thirsted for my blood.

I wondered if she even knew what she was doing or was merely lost in a state of half-consciousness, reaching for whatever life force she could. I couldn’t imagine our prisoner being this eager to receive blood from The Great Devourer, which had seemed her favorite thing to call me.

Yet it seemed I had given her enough now that she was conscious. I pulled my wrist away, and she reached for me for a moment longer, her eyes still closed, her mouth open, teeth bared, hungering for more. I turned to Ilmatar to ask him for a bandage, but Mona was already there, holding one in her hands, which she began to wrap around my wound.

I hoped I wouldn’t regret saving the paladin’s life for a second time. I would have to tell Lucifron to get better shackles and chains for her. More guards, too.

Mona held out her arm for me—she must have realized I felt weak, and I held onto her as I rose. But in front of all the other demons, I could hardly rely on her to support me. Showing such weakness seemed unfathomable.

I steadied myself and walked between the guards, who still had their spears trained on the prisoner. I suppose that after all this, by virtue of their patience, it had now become a useful task for them to perform. Mona followed me closely as if she expected me to fall at any moment.

Once past the guards, I turned back to look at the paladin. The prisoner opened her golden eyes, which darted back and forth in fear and confusion. She’d shifted back to a primarily human form. Her dog-like face had transformed back into a human one other than the ears on the top of her head.

She looked shaken. “What did you do to me?” she asked. “I feel…” She held a still-shackled hand to her head. Though she’d cut through the chains, a few links were still attached, rattling as they moved.

“I gave you some of my blood,” I said. “To save your life.”

She stared at me, then shook her head and snarled. In her eyes and the lines of her face appeared a cold rage, hatred as intense as I had ever seen. “You saved nothing. You tainted me with your sin.”

For a moment, I wondered if I was just a fool, and she was about to lunge at me, and we would have to go through it all over again.

But this time, she had two spears pointed at her and no sword, so she stayed there, curled up on the floor, staring at me with tired eyes. She growled at me slightly, a low sound from the back of her throat, but she did not move.

I only had one last thing to say, which still bothered me.

“What should I call you? You’ve still refused to tell us your name.”

She looked at me, then sighed. “My name is Rhea.”

“No last name?”

She stared at me, then looked away, her black-haired ears twitching. Was she nervous about her family? Who was she in Lycanta?

“It’s not important,” she said, and I resigned myself that I would get nothing further from her.

I turned to Lucifron. “I’ll leave the rest to you, Captain. Perhaps you should ensure that Rhea’s restraints can actually hold her this time.”

“Y-Yes, Dark Lord,” Lucifron said.

After a last, lingering look at the dog-kin paladin known as Rhea, as her eyes stared back at me, boring into my soul, I turned away and moved to leave.

“You should have let me die,” she said.

I stopped at the cell door, my hand on the cold metal frame to steady myself. I wondered if I should turn back. If I should even respond. Or was she right? Should I have let her die?

She had attacked us twice, and I knew none of my fellow demons would’ve batted an eye if I’d ordered her thrown over the railing outside her cell, sent plummeting into the Void beneath us. Likely they would’ve breathed a sigh of relief.

It had been foolish to save her, sticking my neck out for this woman when I was already in more than enough trouble. Part of me knew that. And yet, I didn’t regret what I had done. I couldn’t. I could only keep going.

“None of us get to choose when we live or die,” I said. “I’m sure if you attack these guards, they’ll be quite willing to stab you. And I’m not sure I feel like saving you a second time. I have no desire to kill you, but if you truly yearn to taste mortality, go ahead.”

Her eyes widened, perhaps because I had called her bluff. The truth was, if she kept attacking us relentlessly, she’d be killed. In a way, it was all up to her. I’d done all I could now. I doubted I could save her, or anyone else, from anything serious.

My head swam as the dark spots in my vision seemed to linger, even multiply. I’d started to feel dizzy and found myself leaning against the door’s metal frame, Mona standing by my side, her hand on my shoulder, a concerned look on her face.

My body felt light and unwieldy, and my vision swayed as I felt my body list to the side. Soon Mona’s arms were around me, and I felt myself drifting rather than falling.

I did not feel any alarm, only a fading out, a dimming of myself, as if I were falling into a cloud. I looked into Mona’s face, at her eyes full of worry and fear, and I realized I really had pushed myself too far this time. I’d thought myself invincible, but I had limits after all, and now I had found them.

“Sorry,” I whispered to Mona. I did not look away from her even as the darkness ate her away, because I wanted her to be the last person I saw, just as she was the first.