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Rites of Blood
Interlude: As one

Interlude: As one

The world opened wider than he had ever seen but at the same time it was less. It was almost muted, cold blues where he once had seen red accents. The edges of his vision were almost gray, no colour at all, and the light in his room a pale and softened glow highlighting surfaces far far above him.

Almost overwhelmingly his head began swimming with the overpowering smell around him. The iron tang of fresh blood covered him his head spinning side to side waves washing over him again and again. He tried to bring his hands to his nose to hold it off and took in a sharp breath as he felt his hair, no whiskers, painfully bend back as his claws went to his delicate nose.

It was too much. Kinst brought himself tightly together curling into a ball. This was a mistake, he couldn't do it. He should stop the ritual now, escape back to where the world made sense.

'No. I'm better th,' he tried to say but hearing only high pitched screaming he stopped. He took a deep breath and uncurling himself he tried to walk forward out of the pool of blood he'd been curled up in.

He fell flat on his face.

'Four legs, idiot.' He thought trying to feel how to move. At the back of his head he could feel the rat scrabbling for control. He was holding it tightly in rein but maybe he could just steer?

Kinst relaxed feeling himself withdrawing. His grip lessened. The rat took over quickly. He could still feel the stone floor cold beneath all four feet, the blood smell still filled his nose but no more than usual. He felt how the rat began to move across the floor 2 legs on the ground while walking like with two but doubled. He could do that, next time.

Free the rat began to trot across the room. The door at the other side of his cell looked about as large as the bronze doors of the ceremony room. The closer he got the sharper the focus. He didn't need to turn his head up to see the candles hanging far, far above him. The world was wider than the first time he had seen the sea coming to the citadel. He thought he'd never top that feeling. Until today.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

Kinst focused his will. The twin feeling of his blood and the rat's. His own heart the bass a single beat against the drum roll of the rat's. He wanted to stop.

The rat stopped. He wanted it the rat did it. It was that simple. He was in control here.

The rat galloped forward again. He felt strong, stronger than any blacksmith. Easily pulling himself up the leg of the chair almost bounding up the smooth wood. He reached the seat in an instant and then leapt. Claws barely reaching the table but swinging himself to the surface with a single grasp and he pulled up short.

There he was and... there he was. He could see himself sitting in the other chair. His skin was pale and his dark hair tufting at all angles. His eyes remained open and seemed to be the only colour in the room. The dark brown irises pulled him in to the pupil and suddenly he was looking back at the rat. The colour returned the two blue eyes in the grey fur staring into his were the brightest thing in the room. He laid his hand out flat on the table.

'Come here' he thought. The rat approached him and perched on his hand cleaning the blood off itself. 'I wonder' he croaked. He licked his lips and pulled the gaze of the rat up to his again. Willing himself into its eyes. He felt the pupil pulling him in but with a will he hovered on the edge. His vision opening up again but remaining. Everything doubled. He held on. He was strong. He could feel the claws in his palm pressing in tightly he could feel his claws sinking into the soft skin underneath. He felt the blood burst around his claws the smell of iron stronger than ever he felt the pain as the grip on his hand tightened. He could see the rat shaking in his hand he could feel the hand holding him shake. He felt the drop of blood splash onto him.

Kinst pulled back out of breath, the tang of blood and salty mucus on his lips. He felt at his nose as a trickle still ran down his face. Not strong enough yet.

Not yet.

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