Hatred (Part 2)

As she was sitting down in the armchair, the dark clouds circling around the moon had spread apart. The soft, milky white light fell down on her body. Turning her gaze, she realized, the moon was white again. It was waning now, only a sharp sickle visible high up in the sky, even though when she awakened, she could see a grand, bloody red full moon glaring at her.

She sighed. She was able to hide the red moon.

The high priest came closer to her, checking the moon through the broken window.

“The moon is still white,” he muttered to himself, scratching his chin.

He looked at her body, now glowing white like an angel under the moonlight. Her scars were also glowing in silvery tones.

“When will you finally awaken?” he scolded her as if it were all her fault.

She did not reply. She was enjoying seeing him nervous. He always acted so high and mighty before her, but now, his confident mask has fallen apart. He was going to war tomorrow, and he was scared.

He was walking around her room in circles, lost in his thoughts, not paying attention to her.

“I need to show my believers we will win this battle, with the saintess on our side. But how? What will I do once those foolish priests lose their faith and start running away? Nothing is working according to my plans. Is this another trial from the Shrouded One?”

She had to bite her lips to not start laughing. He did not even notice, she was able to move around properly.

“I was not expecting the Silgorod to act so quickly. Their king is so greedy! They already have a much larger territory than us with so many fertile lands, and yet, they still dare to attack us.”

She was also wondering what their motif was. Did they simply want the powerful saintess for themselves? Or was it connected to that Red North Star calamity, their prophecy was foretelling?

“I need to… I need to be more powerful tomorrow. If I can demonstrate my holy magic, I will be able to put faith into my followers.“

Finally, he turned to her.

“I need your blood. Much more than before. I need to show them I am strong enough to lead the army.”

Selena looked at him, disappointed. No matter what he said, it always came back down to that one thing – drinking her blood. From the behaviour of Elias, she understood that her blood was addictive to them. Although they had to often drug her to drink it, they were the ones getting dependent on it. Without her blood, the high priest was nothing. At the end, he couldn’t do anything without her. She never saw him use his holy powers. She wondered why people were even following this man.

Would they follow her? Would she have to give them her blood to get their loyalty? It did not work out with Elias. Or would a mere demonstration of her holy powers be sufficient?

She never tested her powers properly. She did not even know how they should work. She could feel her resonance with the ancient magic of the moon, and she was able to use her own emotions as fuel to use her powers. But if they never betrayed her, she would never find out. Did they teach this to the previous saintess living in this body, or did they purposely hide it from her in order to control her?

He was now so close, she could feel his smelly breath on her cheeks. She held back a shiver of disgust.

The high priest pulled out a knife.

She wondered what kind of priest always had a blade on him. Was this because of the times they lived in or because of his religion? What kind of god sends a priestess from heaven, just so his priests can cut her open? And his name, as they called him, the Shrouded One... It sounded more like some creepy cult than a religion. That thing they do one time per month, if that is not a black mass, then she is a nun for real!

“This will be the last time I will drink your blood,” the high priest said.

Liar.

He laughed once he saw her expression.

“You don’t believe me, I know. But there is no need to keep enduring more wounds. We will win the war, using your holy magic. Then we will return back to Lunaria. We will abandon this church and go to the citadel instead. There, I will make you my wife.”

Wasn’t he going to wait until she was fully awakened?

“The war would be over, so there will be no need to give other priests your blood even if you are not fully awakened,” he was talking more to himself than to her. “Your powers are getting stronger, this destroyed tower is the proof, so why waste the time?”

Hearing his plans with her now, Selena realized she would rather give him blood every day than sleep with him in the same bed. She forced herself to stop envisioning such a grim future.

The blade glistened in the moonlight. She bit her tongue once he cut her, enduring another sharp pain. Her wounded and painful body pushed her mind into a corner. Like an animal unable to escape from the trap, she was desperately trying to find a way to change her fate. Then, a devilish plan sprouted in her mind.

What if she were able to control people with her blood? Would that be possible with her magic? Should she try this now?

Channeling her powers, she waited as the high priest leaned closer. Once he lowered his lips to her wound and his tongue tasted blood, she sent it forward, ordering it to get a hold of his body.

He froze in place.

She could feel the waves of his blood inside him, rising against her. He was pushing back, attempting to take control of his own body and mind, but it was too late. He drank too much of her blood already. After all, he was assaulting her almost every night.

His droopy eyes were now cloudy, corners of his lips dropped. Selena was studying his face, unable to know if her blood worked or not. She looked at the broken window.

“Jump out of the window,” she told him.

The high priest turned sideways, sidestepping her armchair, going straight to the window. Once he started climbing onto it, she stopped him.

“That is enough,” she said. “Go back to your chamber and return to me at dawn. We will ride on our horses to go to war against Silgorod. We shall prevail.”

He was about to leave the tower when she remembered something.

“Call one of those priests back here. Oh… and leave that dagger of yours here, too.”

The high priest dropped the dagger on the floor and left her chamber. It has been a long time since he was gone. Selena started to think her spell did not work. But just after that, she could hear a new set of footsteps on the stairs. An unknown priest appeared in the chamber.

“Lord High Priest told me the saintess wished to see me.”

“Yes, Lord High Priest said we need to make our priests stronger and that I need to share my blood with you. And I shall give it to you now.”

He looked at her, shocked. But the desire quickly replaced the confusion, as she extended her forearm to him.

“There is a dagger on the floor. Take it and come taste my blood.”

She waited for the right moment. Doing the same trick the second time was easier. Once she saw the same look in his face, she knew she was successful. It was time for the new experiment.

“Kill yourself with that dagger,” she ordered him.

He looked at her with a blank expression. He then gripped the blade harder and brought it closer to his neck. Fresh red blood spilled out, painting the stone wall behind him.

The priest dropped the dagger and fell onto the floor like a sack of potatoes. Selena jumped out of the armchair and squatted next to him. With her hand supporting her chin, she was looking as the life was slowly leaving his body. She would use her magic to kill him instantly, but she was afraid she would lose control and there would be no body left after him.

She waited after he stopped breathing, after his heart stopped beating. And then she ordered him again.

“Get up!”

He did not move.

Only the blood was still flowing out of his body, onto the floor.

Did she fail?

Remembering the first scene she saw when she reincarnated into this body, she envisioned her blood like sticky tendrils flowing back into her wounds. Once she opened her eyes, she saw that the lost blood was traveling back into his body. Then, his chest rose and fell. His heart started beating.

“Get up. Now!”

He listened. Now he was able to stand up.

“Are you still listening to me?” she asked him.

He nodded.

“Find someone to stitch that horrible wound on your neck. Or stitch it yourself. Return and pretend nothing happened between us. Just go around your day as planned. Got it?”

“Yes, My Lady.”

After he left, she fell onto the armchair, tired. The chamber was now windy because of a broken window, and the whole room smelled of blood and rot. She decided to gather the rest of her physical power to get up again. She left her chamber at the top of the tower and descended the stairs. Looking at the bells fallen below, she felt satisfied.

She was able to find some pieces of cloth in the church connected to the tower. She returned to the part where she attended the mass. She stopped before the statue of the saintess.

“You happy now?” she asked her. “I awakened as the Shrouded One wanted.”

The strong moonlight flooded through the glass roof of the whole church. Under the veil of the statue, Selena could now clearly see red tears falling down the whitestone cheeks. The statue was crying blood, lamenting her crude awakening.

“Take me up, I need a safe space to sleep,” Selena said.

The statue of the saintess formed a nest out of her palms. She lowered them. Selena put the clothes into those palms and then climbed up. Once the statue raised her in her palms, she curled there.

She thought she might have trouble falling asleep, but once she closed her eyes, slumber overtook her.