Ceiro’s head was no longer ringing as she finally finished most of his wounds, save for his eyes. And honestly he didn't blame her. He’d felt the vampire’s acidic blood eating away at his flesh, the claws sinking into the soft tissue and long nails scarring the bone in the back of his orbital sockets. He doubted even the great healers could undo such damage. But if he’d had his magic perhaps he’d be able to see at least a little through it. He let out a pained moan as she spoke, wanting to believe what she was saying, that he’d done the right thing. But he knew he’d just endangered them, and the gentle voiced angel couldn’t convince him otherwise. It had been his mistake that had cost them everything.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#4da6ff"> “Called? You… you must be an angel…”</span>he murmured softly, listening to her shift her weight around.<br/><br/>He laughed out loud just than as she called him young, almost forgetting for a moment the broken ribs and blood stained clothes, though he regretted it soon after as his hand went to his chest, hissing in pain.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#4da6ff">“Child… oh child… I am not young… I may not be a hunter, but that does not make me young…”</span>he said, still smiling through the pain.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#4da6ff"> “Indeed…”</span>but it seemed as though he was starting to fade out again, only half listening as she reminisced about the importance of family.  It was only when she told him that Valentin was dead that he turned his head towards the sound of her voice, out of habit as if expecting to see her.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#4da6ff"> “He is dead than… never to hurt anyone again. My poor sister… she doesn't seem to understand why we had to do this… so young…”</span>the exhaustion was getting to be too much for him, despite all her hard work. Once more the dark haired young man relaxed slowly as she gently cleaned away the blood and remnants of his damaged eyes before bandaging his head.<br/><br/><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#4da6ff">“Do not… don’t blame yourself… there… there's nothing left to save…” </span>his face contorted into a mix of pain and grief, as if speaking the words out loud had only made the truth of what had happened to him more real. He would never see again. He felt her start to move him and tried to help, before he realized she was using her gifts to lift him, and his flailing was probably only making things more difficult for her. He slowed his breathing, letting her cover him with the rich, healing soil that had washed down here. He needed to sleep. To heal. To clear his mind.<br/><br/>~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<br/><br/><i>It was Valentin’s face that woke him, in a stark panic as he struggled, limbs bound tightly and blood dripping on him from above. <span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff4d4d">“Oh come now, did you have a nice dream little boy?”</span> the sickening voice crooned at him, tugging on the chains that bound him tightly, slicing into his flesh. He cried out in agony, struggling to see through the blood that dripped into his eyes. Panic welled up in him as he realized it had all been a dream. A horrible yet wonderful dream. A woman who didn’t exist, who had come to him in his mind to keep him sane. She should have left him to die. The vampire’s talons grabbed him by the chin and tilted his face up towards the ceiling.<br/>
<br/>
The guttural sound of agony that escaped him was not a scream. Scream did not begin to describe the sorrow that wracked his body as the blood of his father dripped upon him.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff4d4d"> “Now you see, gardener, now you see what true pain is. What you felt before, that emptiness you thought was pain. It was a splinter compared to this yes? But you feel. You can FEEL!”</span> he let go of his chin, flinging his arms out to his sides. <span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff4d4d">“This is how the gods grace us for our service. With PAIN! Nought but Pain! They strip away the very things that give us reason to live, and leave only a rotting husk of PAIN!” </span> he shifted into mist and swirled into another part of the caverns, returning with a flailing child in his arms as all color drained from Ceiro’s face. The little girl in his arms was sobbing,  dirty, her dress torn and stained as though she’d been dragged through briars to get her here. He dropped her to the floor, pushing her to her brother with a swift kick.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff4d4d"> “Do you want her to suffer like we do, Ceiro? End her life swiftly. Drink her blood. Drain her dry. End her life so she never has to suffer. And join me.”</span>  the young man struggled violently against his chains, desperate to free himself, to protect Valla from the monster their friend had become. <br/>
</i><br/><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff4d4d"><i>“End her life. Or I will.”</i></span><br/><br/>~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<br/><br/>The weight of the earth heavy on him, Ciero screamed, his mouth filling with rich soil as he frantically clawed away at the ground around him, ignoring his wounds and the agony he felt as he finally breached the surface. But he saw nothing, the bandages still covering his eyes as he tore at them, struggling to rip them from his head. It was only when he felt his face, already healing from the blood and soil, finding the empty sockets where his eyes should have been, that he collapsed onto the soft dirt, gasping for breath as he struggled to regain his composure. Never had he ever thought he’d be grateful to realize he couldn’t see. But it had been a dream. Nothing but a dream. And the strong smell of the woods after a rain, the rich odors of the trees that filled his nostrils reassured him that the woman was here too, or at least had been recently. She’d not been a dream. He lay there, unable to move as he nearly sobbed with relief.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#4da6ff">“Marcella…. Marcella… are you… are you still here?” </span>