It was time. Nothing but the Grand Blood-Ritual mattered.

Aleeniel focused her mind and sank it into the Core Circle she was standing in, her five High Priestesses in the other Core Circles doing the same. As their minds sank into the Cores, blood seeped out of their eyes, slithering down their bare bodies as if it was alive, carrying the will of the mind into the ritual circles. The pale gray Core Circles were slowly painted crimson, their minds sinking deeper and deeper into them.

Suddenly, they realized they weren’t alone anymore. As the Core Circles connected, their minds connected as well, their will, their souls themselves connected.

They were connected, but they soon realized they were not truly united yet. That was unacceptable. Each of them started discarding everything unnecessary, everything they were before, it did not matter. Only two thoughts remained. Their conviction, “Blood Above All,” and their desire to perform the Grand Blood-Ritual. They were nothing but tools to be used. Aleeniel was no more.

Now, with Unity born, firmly united in mind, will, and soul, more blood continued to ooze out of their eyes and down into the ritual, reaching towards the Main Supporting Circles.

Izremthye, standing in a Primary Supporting Circle, watched the slowly activating Core Circles. She knew she should keep a clear mind, but she could not calm her mounting excitement as the blood slowly twined around in the deeply engraved lines, only filling their bottom thinly, like a fine strand of hair. She watched, waiting, and when the blood finally reached her, and touched her, she heard, “Blood Above All.”

Izremthye closed her eyes and tried to grab onto it. She felt a faint presence, a yearning that grew with each moment. She understood. The presence was the Unity that wanted her to surrender all that she was, and in turn, make all those below surrender as well. To perform the Grand Blood-Ritual, to unify them all. One mind, one will, one soul, “Blood Above All.” She discarded everything unnecessary, yearning for their Unity, and Izremthye was no more.

It was now a fragment of Unity.

It did not feel its body anymore, nor did it feel its blood being offered. It turned its focus towards those next to it. United with others, it slowly approached, and it felt them. The four others next to it, distinctly different individuals. That was unacceptable, they had to join in Unity.

It felt some confusion in them at first, but they soon agreed and surrendered, becoming a part of Unity. The fourth one, however, hesitated. It felt her trying to withdraw, but that was not allowed. The poor soul did not seem to understand. They would show her then. Their Unity bore down on the ignorant thing, pulling her in with them. The brief struggle did not last long, the Unity had the strength of many within. Satisfied, it reached further to the sides, feeling them all, united, one mind, one will, one soul. Then, their Unity reached further, wanting to pull in those behind as well.

Bralthon had an eerie feeling. As he watched the 1st and 2nd Circles turn scarlet, it felt as if a giant beast was being born. When the blood started crawling towards their Circle, towards him, he felt the giant beast breathing down on his neck. He was not nervous at all, however. He trusted and respected the Priestesses of the Scarlet Temple like anyone else. He was asked to offer himself up, willingly, for the good of the Family, and he agreed without a second thought. They all did.

They devoted their whole lives to the Family, venturing deep into the Blood Mountain to fight the Blothcraads. He was one of the lucky ones who was still alive after a decade in the Blood Mountain, and could serve the Family longer than his brothers and sisters who had fallen before him. Their fate was to die in the Blood Mountain, but fate smiled upon him, and now, his life would be used in the Grand Blood-Ritual. He was smiling as the blood reached him. He surrendered on the lightest touch, and Bralthon was no more. Only Unity remained. “Blood Above All.” One mind, one will, one soul.

The Low-Bloodborn in the 3rd Circle were male-types, Bloodborn Warriors who spent their whole lives in the Blood Mountain, devoted to the Family. Only a few resisted in their last moment when their survival instinct triumphed over their will, but it did not matter. The Cores with the support of the Supporting Circles made them join, united in one mind, one will, one soul. “Blood Above All.”

Vorthea, standing in the 4th Circle, while honored, she felt a bit disappointed. She couldn’t admit that to anyone, and came to be an offering with a smile on her face. But deep down, she was a bit disappointed she couldn’t fight in the Blood Mountain anymore. Fighting was her sole purpose. She was a male-type that could not bear children, so she devoted all her life to fighting. It was all for the Family, but… maybe now, as her life was coming to an end, she could allow herself to feel pained for not being born as a female-type. Admit to herself that her deepest wish was to give birth to children, or, at least, become a Nanny in one of the Hatcheries.

Her time was out and the blood reached Vorthea. Then, she understood the meaning of being an offering. She did not want it. She struggled, she screamed, but her body was already lost to her the moment her ritual circle was activated and the blood touched her. She could only struggle and scream in the mind, will to not be united, to disagree. She sought death, but they did not let her. “Blood Above All” bound her, forced her. She refused to join, but they grabbed her, torn her to shreds, threw away everything she was, her hidden desires, her closely guarded secrets, until nothing of her remained. United in one mind, one will, one soul, “Blood Above All.” Vorthea was no more.

Some ended up struggling and resisting in the 4th Circle, but they could not oppose the Unity of the first three Circles. Maybe it would have been different if everyone in the 4th Circle resisted, but only a few did, and they were soon made to submit and surrender. The Cores content with the submission of the 4th Circle, led their Unity out towards the 5th Circle that was the most numerous.

Larphon never really cared about anything since he could remember. Although he was a female-type and he could have chosen his duty, when the time had come, he just shrugged and said to put him where there was a need for him. He was told he would be liked in the Carmine Quarter, so that was where he went. Providing the Warriors, whose fate was to die in the Blood Mountain, with a brief relief was as respectable of a duty as any other. He respected them deeply, so he didn’t mind doing anything they asked of him. That was his duty for the Family. And now, he was asked to offer himself. When the blood touched him, he did as he was told, and Larphon was no more. Only Unity. “Blood Above All.” One mind, one will, one soul.

Zalkein had always done his duty with pride, and his hard work had allowed him the privilege to manage the finances of the Patriarch’s Treasury and oversee the trading with the outside. While he felt content with his life, a deep sorrow had been accompanying him for a long time. A very long time, so long, he wasn’t even sure how long it was exactly.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Before he moved to the Crimson Palace as an administrator, he had lived in the Ruby District. Throughout those years, many Warriors lived with him, and one by one, they were claimed by the Blood Mountain or moved into other Units. New Warriors came and then they were gone as well. Only Zalkein always remained. He remained, while everyone he shared a home with passed him by, and he grew dull to it all, only going through the motions of the night until the day he moved out. Working in the Patriarch’s Treasury was all he cared about.

But… there was someone in the beginning, the first one he had ever shared a home with. It was just a fleeting moment, the nights they shared, the warmth they shared, the promise that was broken, trampled on by the Blood Mountain when he did not return from its depths. Maybe now, they could be reunited. Zalkein’s last thoughts were of the one he first shared himself with, the only one he truly ever loved. Then it was all gone and Zalkein was no more. “Blood Above All.” Unity in mind, will, and soul.

Silphane was tired. She felt old, much older than she was, her body withered. It was frail, and weak. It couldn’t be helped. Year after year her life and Bloodright was sucked away into her children. After the birth of her last child, she had nothing more to give, and nothing more to sustain her. She aged rapidly. It had only been five years since, yet it felt like decades. She was nothing but a burden, no use to anyone anymore.

She smiled, she still had one use left in her after all. She felt lucky, even someone like her could be an offering. When she was asked to take part, she voiced her doubts about her usefulness, but she was comforted that her strong sense of duty and dedication to the Family was what the ritual needed.

She found it somewhat funny. Not that she ever had a choice. Since her birth, she only had two paths in life, and even that was chosen when a Sire picked her as a Wife. Yet, she felt blessed. A short, demanding life, but a blessed one. She loved her children even as bit by bit they took her life. It wasn’t the children’s fault, it was just how the Conception Ritual worked after all.

Silphane had no more time to muse about her life as suddenly she felt the embrace of Unity and she welcomed it. One mind, one will, one soul, “Blood Above All”. Silphane was no more, she could finally rest.

Zarelin was full of resentment. She resented being born as a female-type, just as much as she resented not being chosen as a Wife. Sure, Wives had a hard and short life, but they were respected. Not that she was particularly disrespected, but she just felt useless. Oh, how many times she wished she had been conceived just one year earlier, then she would have been a male-type, a Warrior. Maybe she would have died on her first expedition into the Blood Mountain, but at least she would had been more useful. Her temperament was just not suited for raising children.

As miraculous as the Conception Ritual was, it wasn’t all-powerful. It happened sometimes that the temperament was just… wrong. There was nothing to do about it. She understood that, yet she still wished she was born just a year earlier. But she wasn’t. She had to be content with being around tired male-type women, being a stress relief in their chaotic life where death lurked in each corner. She listened to tales of the Blood Mountain late into the nights, as one by one, many of the Warriors she knew were replaced by new ones, and then many of those new ones were eventually replaced as well.

It didn’t matter anymore. Zarelin watched as the blood crawled towards her and she felt death approaching. She didn’t care about dying, her life of regret and resentment would be finally over. She gave herself over, one mind, one will, one soul, “Blood Above All”. Zarelin and her bitterness were no more.

There were many in the 5th Circle, many had deeply hidden resentments, yet the Unity of the first four Circles knew no mercy. There was no escape, no room for struggle, no chance of resistance. The Unity took all it needed and discarded all that was unnecessary. One mind, one will, one soul, “Blood Above All”.

At last, none, but the Unity remained. The Cores felt the change, the satisfaction of complete Unity.

They turned their attention to the Focus.

It was time.

They were Unity, yet they were spread, that would not do. The Unity needed to be more, much more. The Unity was not content with mere unity, it wanted to be One. One mind, one will, one soul, “Blood Above All”.

To become One, the Unity knew there were roles to fill. Six Cores, each of a main aspect, of Speed, of Eyes, of Claws, of Fangs, of Strength, of Blood.

Speed of the wind, at times a breeze, at others a gale.

Eyes that see through, Eyes that bewitch, Eyes that compel.

Claws that play with the prey like a cat, blood and ashes all that’s left.

Fangs that take, Fangs that give pleasure in death.

Strength that crumbles all, a path of ruin follows.

Blood of Family, Blood of mind, Blood of will, Blood of soul.

The Cores changed to fill the roles, became of Speed, of Eyes, of Claws, of Fangs, of Strength, of Blood.

There were more roles to fill, the Cores demanded change.

Under the Core of Speed, Hearing came to be. Hearing the call of blood, of men and brethren.

Under the Core of Eyes, Smelling came to be. Smelling the sweet scent of prey, doomed to thirsting endlessly.

Under the Core of Claws, Touching came to be. A thousand words in the lightest Touch of the wind that carries all the pain.

Under the Core of Fangs, Tasting came to be. Craving the Taste of blood, a never-ending cursed pleasure.

Under the Core of Strength, Bones came to be. Bones unrelenting, unbreakable, on the path that turns to dust.

Under the Core of Blood, the Heart came to be. Heart that revels in blood taken and bears all the burdens.

Yet it was still not enough, more was needed to become One.

Under Hearing, Voice and Brain came to be. A blessing and a curse to all who hears. A thinking quick and swift, while men stare in a daze.

Under Smelling, Flesh and Beauty came to be. Slender and slim, the power of a beast lies within. A beauty mesmerizing, the nightmare in the dark.

Under Touching, Skin and Hands came to be. Unblemished silk, a monster underneath. A caress of delight and death.

Under Tasting, Healing and Authority came to be. Healed by blood, a Blood that demands. A ruler of all beneath, a slave to that above.

Under Bones, Night and Ashes came to be. Child of the Night, abandoned by the Light. Ashes in their wake, Ashes in their deaths.

Under the Heart, Moon and Stars came to be. Ally of the Moon, shunned by the Sun. Siblings of the Stars, the nemesis of men.

At last, the roles were filled, the Blood gathered.

There was one yet untouched.

Paths filled by Blood, paths of Blood, leading to the one untouched. Scarlet lines curved and pulsed, flowed with a heartbeat and the one yet untouched was touched.

A desperate cry echoed.

The Blood-pool churned, mixed and merged. No more cries rang, only the boiling blood sizzled. More and more blood flowed, the Unity gathered, embracing the one within, yearning to be One. The Blood nourished, the Blood shackled. One mind, One will, One soul, Blood Above All. With its full might the Unity bore down on the one within to rip it apart, to undo it and remake it, to be One—

Something went wrong. Very wrong. The Unity tried to withdraw, but it was too late.

It was helpless. It was flimsy and fell apart under an Unknowable Being it could not comprehend. It was forced together, ripped apart, changed, over and over, chained and shackled with that it discarded.

At last, it became One, yet not the One.

When the last drop of Blood was gone, the husks of all those around turned to ash, and a wind, that could not be, scattered them all. Nothing, but a young man remained as their witness.