Chapter Twenty-Three: Incubation
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Name: Lavinia

Race: Demon

Class: Vampiric

Age: Immortal – 124 days.

Crystal Essence: [Crimson]- Lvl.5— 2.71ESQ

 

The words hang in darkness alongside Lavinia’s waking consciousness. The darkness is familiar but far from comforting. She doesn’t feel or sense herself beyond the flickering thoughts recognizing the words of her Reais Identity Sheet. It reminds her of her name, what she is, how long she’s been alive and why she exists in this darkness.

A hundred and twenty-four days isn’t so long. I am young…or am I old? Lavinia’s thoughts diverge from certainty to doubt as they’re born. Why am I so…empty?

***

Name: Lavinia

Race: Demon

Class: Vampiric

Age: Immortal – 127 days.

Crystal Essence: [Crimson]- Lvl.5— 9.8ESQ

 

The void troubling Lavinia has yet to cease but it has abated over the past days her drifting consciousness has observed in the dark. A crimson light illuminates a curved horizon in the dark, Lavinia wonders what it is but doesn’t bother to reach for it. Her concerns drift as she recognizes the passing of time continues even without her to observe the world and moreover, her Crystal Essence has grown as well. Did that have something to do with the crimson horizon? It remains the only light in the dark and while far and dim, it promises warmth should she reach it or should it reach her.

It will reach me. Lavinia decides, certain that the light exists in the dark for her. It wasn’t here before she was after all.

***

Name: Lavinia

Race: Demon

Class: Vampiric

Age: Immortal – 131 days.

Crystal Essence: [Crimson]- Lvl.5— 12.31ESQ

As she predicted, the darkness slowly but surely gives way for the growing pool of crimson and blood. Lavinia recognizes blood, she is intimate with it in ways she only now understands within the darkness— with nothing to distract, she places her attention on the crimson and blood mixture filling her darkness.

The warmth of both reach her sooner than she anticipates and her nostrils fill with scents not of the darkness, scents that are neither of blood or the crimson. Lavinia allows her waning consciousness to key into the mixture of both and stew in the scents. She realizes at once that she never had a nostril within the darkness— the wafting scents of salt, something of honey, dirt and dew soaked grass stream into her nostril, an object of her physical body she can slightly manipulate by how she wiggles and wriggles it about.

Hera kept her promise then, truly. Lavinia tries not to think back to the vicious Caster during her time in the darkness, but it seems Hera kept her end of the deal despite being the very reason Lavinia exists within the dark. She beat me to this point…granted I could’ve…doesn’t matter.

Lavinia isn’t sure how to feel about the incident; meeting Henry, his vile commandments and Hera beating her into the dark. In a way, Lavinia was least surprised that Henry made himself known to them— she’d gotten the warnings that a horrible fate awaited them several rooms before confronting the man, or rather failing to. Even before he manifested, the scars he cursed her with grew and boiled under her skin, keeping her very occupied while Hera conversed with him. And then he gave his commands and that was it, that was the end of her being in control. With little more than a few words Henry seized her freedom again. Though Henry relegated her conscious mind and body to follow his commands, Lavinia observed every last occurrence through her eyes but as a prisoner within them.

In her observations of the encounter, what disturbs Lavinia the most is Hera. Her cursed body fought fang and claw to heed Henry’s commands and yet still failed to leave even a scratch on the old Caster. Lavinia dreads to see what Hera made of her body. Were Lavinia not immortal she's certain she wouldn’t have survived fighting Hera as she has, as she still is. What’s more, Hera confessed to being weaker than Henry himself. How powerful is the Soul Reaver that even Hera in all her magics must remain so vigilant?

For a time in the darkness Lavinia consoled her defeated ego by reminding herself that she spent a generous bit of Essence before it came to battle. But that is a paltry excuse for her weakness as not minutes into the battle Henry said something that made her body absorb the last Crimson Crystal against her raging protests. It was the Jaui’s Crystal and it left her a boon of Essence, ESQ and even EP, strangely it gave her no new level.

***

Name: Lavinia

Race: Demon

Class: Vampiric

Age: Immortal – 139 days.

Crystal Essence: [Crimson]- Lvl.5— 27.01ESQ

Lavinia continues to brood. Though it isn’t much dark any longer as crimson and blood swells through the abyss. She identifies the crimson as Essence, the Essence of her being to be exact. She regained her hearing and a measure of taste but still no sight as her involuntary hibernation draws on for weeks. From her senses she learns of the forest and its creatures, a few of which have dared to approach.

Based on the ease at which the wind carries scents of salt and the thick of woods, Lavinia is certain she’s exposed to all elements of the natural world and more. Her healing wounds must smell delicious to whatever predator stalks nearby and as she has yet to feel anything beyond her nose and tongue. Lavinia fears she’s being devoured each day that passes.

Common sense alone assuages this fear. If she were being devoured, then surely her Crystal Essence would falter in its climb to normalcy. How much longer will she have to spend within this place? As the days and weeks whip by her understanding of it grows, she sees the crimson and blood mixture as herself now. Reminded of how each time she cast a [Crimson Blink] a shroud of blood and Essence announce her position; this is it— the source of her soul. Lavinia grows curious what else lies within herself, the mixture of her being.

If Essence and blood are what make her then she’s sure Henry has little interest in her. After all, she nearly died wasting both away at his commands and he watched. Surely he knows how a demon works? More than Lavinia to be certain as she’s only existed for a hundred and thirty-nine days, many of those have been asleep and hunting, never has she studied magic or planned the subjugation of another species.

The humans are long lived. More than I that is immortal and young. Lavinia muses and draws conclusions to Henry’s true concerns. I’ve merely been a tool, an asset or some kind of backup plan. One that paid off.

Lavinia slowly pieces her evidence together. If I hadn’t gone to those Dungeons he wouldn’t have thought to us me! Instead, he’s seen me twice now and…no, he might still be disinterested. More time passes for him than me.

The Dungeons and Henry have a relationship, it is there and only there she’s met the man or any human for that matter. She would growl if capable but she settles for a constant mental chiding for her dumb move in going back there. Still, she has accomplished what she set out to do; reach Corym.

While her nose did not recognize many of the animal and monster scents around her, Lavinia trusts that Hera wouldn’t have sent her to anywhere else than Corym. So all she need do now is wake up.

***

Name: Lavinia

Race: Demon

Class: Vampiric

Age: Immortal – 147 days.

Crystal Essence: [Crimson]- Lvl.5— 59.59ESQ

Jaws fasten against Lavinia’s shoulder, sinking a sharp row of teeth into her renewed flesh and dragging her along. Lavinia, still within herself, senses this. The pain of being bitten is numbed by her dissociated consciousness but the fear of what comes next cannot be muted.

Creatures, none of demonic nature, have visited and nibbled upon her. She regained some measure of control over her movements days ago and began fending them off with limp swats. Yet, her mind remains trapped within what she now recognizes as her Soul Crystal.

The curve she saw weeks ago was merely its edges filling up with Essence and blood. Now, swimming within a swelling pool of the mixture Lavinia’s Crystal has summoned more than enough power for her to wield against reality. Except for whatever reason it’s not letting her out.

Straining, Lavinia wills her arms to move and smack whatever creature dares disturb her recuperation. However, like she feared, this creature is faster than a mere rabbit or curious wolf, this creature is a monster.

It sets its jaws on her rebellious hand. Munching and salivating over it like a dog with a bone. Lavinia watches her Essence and blood surge in response, flowing through minute pathways in the Soul Crystal to heal the new wound without caring to defend against newer ones. Cursing her continued incompetence, Lavinia racks her mind for a way out, a way back to her body so she can defend herself against what has to be the bravest creature to approach of late. By its bite alone Lavinia can tell it might very well be the one to devour her if she continues to exist within her Soul Crystal.

But how! How do I break free?

As the creature rips off her hand entirely, Lavinia gives up on pointless resistance. It would make little difference if she were to wake without arms and legs to fight it.

Days ago, she speculated that once the Soul Crystal is full of Essence and blood it would let her go, but as things stand she doesn’t have time to wait for that to happen. Cursing Hera for dropping her in such an open space, Lavinia continues to seek an answer to her freedom.

Why is it always like this? Always trapped one way or another? The creature returns to dragging her by her shoulder. The last thing she needs is to move and get lost all over again— she must return to the GroveStaff, must return to Corym, help Seraph and Jonn again. But how?

Another jaw sinks into her flesh.

Terror sends the pool swirling as Lavinia distinctly senses that the first has not released her. This is a pack! There will be others. Essence continues to swirl as Lavinia’s mind spirals through her memories for anything she can use to escape but all that she sees is herself devouring others. The only solution she can conjure is to devour her devourer.

The waves of Essence calm as Lavinia does suddenly, realizing what she’s learned from each and every encounter in her hundred and forty-seven days of existence. She reads the words of her Reais Identity Sheet and finds them to be the truth. She is a Demon. She is a Vampire. She is Lavinia.

But more importantly, this, the dark, crimson, blood and her semi-conscious mind. This realm is her truth. Emboldened by the epiphany and terror, Lavinia fashions an arm, then another, with a leg and feet and claws from the substance of her Crystal. Not forgetting to form herself a head and a wonderful thick mane of blood hair, she swims to the top of her Soul Crystal.

Three jaws clamp onto her flesh now but she pays it little mind as she reasserts herself as the true order of power in the void of her soul. She flexes a red arm and stretches her jaw open and the growing sea of Essence and blood surge after her, emptying itself into a coalescence of her consciousness and the Soul Crystal's power wielded by her ethereal form. All that’s left in the end is an insidious dark splotch at the bottom of her Crystal. It spread out in pulsing tendrils across the dark, now illuminated by her body of Soul.

Two tendrils have grown thicker than the rest and dig deep into the Soul Crystal like the veins crystal light of the Dungeons wall. She knows what they are without even thinking, “Vanavil's curse. I’ll deal with you.”

It’s not nearly as much Essence or Blood as she’s worth but it will be more than enough to take care of the creatures beyond. Shutting her eyes Lavinia allows herself to break down into Essence again, but this time, she ensures every drop suffuses the Crystal and the minute pathways until…

A soft wind blows through the forest canopy. Lavinia’s back scrapes along the dirt, a pointy stick stabs her where she can’t reach and three wolf-like jaws are settled in her flesh. But these creatures aren’t any wolves she’s seen.

I’m back. Its time to eat.

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