Bleeding Demons: The Dark Bloods - Book III ✓

Prelude

“I know,” Ram said.

He could see it too. He had seen it. Blethinette’s corpse was a pretty one if only slightly decapitated, but Ram had no problem with that. Her body was also a soulless one. There was nothing he could do for her.  

She had hurt Sister though. Sister…

It felt good to see Blethinette dead.

“What we did was not enough,” Umbra said, cutting through his thoughts. “They still sit in turmoil and anger. And they don’t know. We didn’t tell them how to restore the Magika. We didn’t tell them about the marking ritual.”

Guilt bit its claws into Ram’s chest. He had had the chance to tell all of that to Reyna, but instead he had asked her to remember a name. What name was it? Why had he asked her such a trivial thing?

Reyna would know. She wouldn’t forget.

The memory of their hug revisited him. That he could remember. That he wouldn't forget. Her embrace was better than a mother’s. Ram now had a comparison. The reminiscence never failed to warm him and bring a smile to his face.

“Ram.”

He flinched. Umbra knew. She always knew. He readied himself for his lecture.

“You must stop focusing on your past life as Aleric.”

Aleric! It was that. Sister called me that. Reyna.

“You have to embrace all your lives and give into what you are and what you will be. This is what hinders your transformation.”

His stomach filled with sorrow. “I don’t want to forget about Sister.”

“You won’t. But you also can’t focus on just her.” She shook her head and stepped closer to him. She wasn’t slithering around the ground as much as she used to these days.

“Umbra.”

She lifted a hand wrapped by hazy black. “We can’t help them like we had before. We have to remain here and send the Spirits back. Return the souls. But that doesn’t mean we can’t help them at all.”

Happiness streaked across his chest. “Will I be able to see Sister?”

She glared at him. He couldn’t see it—her eyes always remained circular—but he felt it.

“Sorry,” he mumbled.

“I will need your help, Ram. You’re versatile enough to send them the information they need to know. With the balance breaking, it shall be easier for you to contact them. Feed it to them. Do as much as you can whenever you can.”

“Whenever I can? How am I even supposed to do this?”

“Images. Stories. You showed it to them before. Everything is out of sync enough that you don’t need to bring them into the realm of spirits. You can do it directly.” Umbra sighed.

She stepped away from Ram and took a seat on the ground, inhaling and exhaling several deep breaths. Ram took a seat in front of her. He knew there was nothing he could do but keep her company.

“As you can see, I still need your help collecting the Spirits here. Don’t waste all your energy on sending them the images,” she said.

Ram nodded. He understood the severity of the balance’s situation, and he knew the importance of what Umbra bestowed on him but still… He was going to see Sister. See Reyna. She wouldn’t be able to see him but it was enough to make him happy.

Umbra took his hands within her own. They felt wispy yet soft. Through the mist of black he saw the calluses on her hands and scars on her arm.

Slave, he thought.

“The story. I will give it to you for you to give to them,” she said. “It holds not only the answers they need but it also holds a past some of them need to revisit. A past that will remind them of what had been lost and hopefully give them the push they need to come to a decision.”

“Yes, I understand,” he said. “Give me the story.”

She nodded but just as Ram felt the images engulf his mind, she mentally pulled away and fell into her breathing spasm. Ram gripped her hands thinking how odd it was that a Spirit, essentially a dead person, still clung to the exercise of breathing. Umbra faced him.

“This is all we can do, Ram,” she whispered. “They need to act now. They need to at least restore the flow of Magika before Lys’ patience runs out.”