Corruption (2)

My fingers tighten around the armrests of my throne as I listen to Eriksson’s words. All eyes are on him, distorted visions hovering before their faces.

“It’s complicated,” he begins, his voice carrying the weight of ancient knowledge. “But corruption can be circumvented. To do so, one must drink the blood of a half-blood whose essence is opposite to their own.”

Aston’s lips twitch, a faint, imprecise smile forming on his face. Eriksson continues, “But not just any blood. It must be drawn directly from the heart—blood that mingles for only the briefest of moments within its chambers. There are records of those who succeeded without complaint, though others found no reprieve from the corruption. Those who drank blood incompatible with their own only managed to delay the inevitable by a few years.”

From above, I observe Eriksson. Fynn glances at him from the side, while Viena’s sharp gaze meets his evenly. Kaila, however, fixates on the emerald-green crystal before Eriksson.