The Price Of Humanity (TMOE #3)

Chapter 17: The sword

There was no nice way for Lucius to present the ashes of Ethan's arm to the others, as much as there was no nice way to react to the sight and implication for the others.

"It's just his arm," Lucius hurried to say, wishing he'd explained as much before he held the ashes forward, but no option would elicit a positive reaction anyway.

"Where is he now?" Eliza asked, eyes wide as they darted between Lucius and the bowl in his hands. "How— What— How is he? Is he alright?"

"Of course he's not alright, he's lost an arm." Richard looked more disgusted than panicked. "And with Lucius' condition he's had nothing to eat either."

"Yeah, I'll..." Lucius' voice was thick, and he averted his gaze. "... I'll try to make it up to him... Somehow... Assuming I make it."

They were then joined by Aldrik, whose presence seemed to have done a complete shift from rough chamberlain to authoritative figure rivalring that of a priest, if not winning. His white rhenelis was exquisite, with silvery symbols Lucius couldn't quite recognize from any sanctuaries he'd been to, which usually was the case for priests with rhenelises of The Unity. His face had been shaved clean, and his previously tousled hair was smooth and pulled back into a ponytail. He looked down at the unholy remains with a pleased smile Lucius found highly inappropriate, and proceeded to say something to Tom, who looked paler than usual as he stood close to Richard. Of course, after an encounter like the one they had with the grim, no one could be blamed for looking a little pale.

Tom replied to Aldrik's words, barely so anyone could hear while his attention flickered towards the ashes as well.

"They're ready to begin if we are," he relayed to the others with a voice as frail as his appearance, and Lucius swallowed. It felt so rushed despite all the terrible things they'd gone through to get there. They'd been travelling and facing obstacles for more than a week, but the fact that the ritual was finally happening couldn't feel more sudden.

"I'll take Frey to Ethan." Richard's lip curled. "Not feeling great about offering a kid, but it's all he can eat."

Lucius grimaced.

"Just... Keep him safe, alright?"

"Brat as he may be, I don't think Frey would hurt Ethan that mu—"

"Richard, is now the time?"

"I'll make sure Ethan doesn't hurt him." Richard rolled his eyes. "I wouldn't let him close if I thought it was dangerous."

Lucius nodded, slightly reassured that the smooth talking horror would have a werewolf as protection.

A sharp pain stabbed his chest, keeping his legs from moving as the others began to follow Aldrik. It was a similar feeling to when he'd tried to chase after Anthony. His body didn't want to go. His mind didn't want to do it anymore. Something bad would happen and he'd be lost for certain. Whatever was inside him would break free, or the monks would seal him along with them as a precaution.

But that was what his mind wanted him to think, not what he actually thought.

Isn't that right, Wrinkleface?

No reply came, so while Lucius' head ached in protest, he tried to stay confident he was making the right choice. Of course the scourge wouldn't want him to seal away the evil it had planted in there, so why wouldn't it try to make him change his mind?

"Lucius?" Eliza looked over her shoulder with a troubled frown, almost like the one Anthony always used to have. "Are you—"

"I'm alright." Lucius shook the thoughts away, forcing his legs forward to catch up.