"This is as good as it’s going to get, we can’t stay here any longer," Sirona confessed, staring down at their table full of hastily scribbled notes after a few hours. Vials of Silas’s blood bubbled rrily in their pots as they tested the samples with a variety of different dications and rare gemstones.
Now with Silas’s life in jeopardy and Alistair on the loose, the King and Queen of Reaweth had no choice but to allow Sirona and Nathaniel unhindered access to the treasures in their vaults to better help their research. They couldn’t afford to be stingy― Sirona would love nothing more than to rob them blind, but sadly, she did have more important things to do with her ti.
Prince Nathaniel pursed his lips and nodded reluctantly in agreent, looking at one of their pots. The combination of silver and iron teorite had successfully managed to reduce Silas’s blood into sothing that slled and looked like a human’s, instead of the foul stench of an undead beast. This was the best solution they had.
Unfortunately, that also ant certain death for Silas. Silver was hard enough to find for common folk, but the royal family could cough it up on short notice. Unfortunately, nothing could be done for the scant amount of iron teorites in their stores.
It was simply not a tal ant for mortals to excavate, royal or not. It was a tal that rained from the skies, a phenonon that happened once in a century if people were lucky.
Nathaniel and Sirona could only mix the two components together, with sap from the Temporal Elderwood tree as a binding agent. In the end, they barely had enough for two tiny syringes.
"He can’t be cured with this, even if we were willing to waste these on him. We’ll have to put him out of his misery." Nathaniel sighed, handing one syringe over to Sirona. He wondered how he was going to break the news to Daphne.
’My apologies for your brother’s unforeseen transformation. Unfortunately, while we do have a way that might stop him from turning into a bloodthirsty beast, it seed more prudent to use it on your older, more deranged brother instead. So would you help us kill your brother, since none of us know how to proceed?’
Right. That would turn out marvelous. Daphne didn’t even want him cutting her brother’s flesh for quicker testing; he doubted she’d be fine with this death sentence.
Perhaps he should let Sirona do the talking. Perhaps Daphne and Atticus would have an unforeseen stock of iron teorites in their trunks. Nathaniel wouldn’t put it past Atticus to stockpile sothing so valuable for so reason or another.
As they made their way back to the infirmary, they heard a howl reverberate through the corridors.
"Fuck!" Sirona cursed.
"He’s awake!" Nathaniel’s face paled.
They exchanged a horrified look as they realized truly how much ti had passed, imdiately making a mad dash for the infirmary.
"Didn’t you say your sedative would last for hours?"
"It was only a hypothesis! It’s not like I have many undead abominations to test it on!" Nathaniel retorted. "The cinnabar must’ve helped his body counter the sedative faster than ordinary."
He didn’t want to enter the closed infirmary doors, but with Daphne inside, weakened and alone, he found the courage to step through it, despite the shakiness in his legs.
Also, Sirona had all but kicked the doors down. There was no choice for him but to follow. He wasn’t going to be outdone by her!
"Hello, darlings." Silas smiled widely, the glint of his newly sharpened teeth unmistakable in the light. "Welco back. I was waiting for you."
Sirona and Nathaniel stood rooted to the ground. Silas seed lucid enough, but the sclera of his eyes was a deep, ominous black compared to the sweet pink of before.
"Did your sedative make things worse?" Sirona muttered under her breath.
Nathaniel glared back at her.
"I heard that, Healer Sirona," Silas said. "But since you are asking a question I want an answer to, I shall let you live for now. You on the other hand..."
He addressed Nathaniel, making a show of licking his teeth. His very, very, sharp teeth.
Nathaniel slowly backed away, but Silas leaped up from the bed and kicked it away, causing it to flip over on its side with a mighty crash as he lunged straight for Nathaniel, grabbing him by the neck to drag him to his side.
Sirona stifled a scream as she noted, with increasing horror, that Silas also had claws reminiscent of a large hunting cat. They poked into the soft skin of Nathaniel’s neck, causing him to wince and flinch in pain as pinpricks of blood began to flow out.
Not good. This was tantamount to delivering a hunk of at on a platter to a starving beast!
"How dare you inject sothing into ! You’ve turned into a monster!"
Nathaniel’s face was paper-white and his lips were trembling in fear, but his tone was indignant. Silas was close to turning into a mindless beast, but Nathaniel would be damned if he let a younger prince accuse him of such foul acts.
"Your brother turned you into a monster. That was not . I gave you that sedative for your own good!"
"Oh, now you’re arguing with ?" Silas let out a high, cold laugh and tightened his grip around Nathaniel’s neck. "You have a lot of nerve!"
Nathaniel squird, like a worm on a fish hook. "You kept on screaming! We told you, the more you panicked, the worse it’ll get! How is it my fault you didn’t listen to !"
Sirona said a ntal prayer for Prince Nathaniel, but there was another royal that needed her attention. She frantically looked around the room; unfortunately, there was no one else but three of them.
Daphne was missing. Sirona’s blood turned to ice. How long had this maniac been awake?
The thought of Daphne being stuck alone with this monster as it drained her blood soundlessly was almost too much to bear. Sirona bent down to check if Daphne’s body had fallen sowhere else, but there was nothing to be found.
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