EIGHTH BLOOD

Chapter 34: The two princesses

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Her sight was the first to be stripped from her. Then sound, then touch, and finally, smell. Something had opened its mouth and swallowed her, leaving her alone in a sea of unrelenting darkness.

Finally, her senses returned, enabling her to lift her head and see a starless sky stretched out above her. She was dressed in her sleepwear, as well as the gaudy bomber jacket that she hadn't seen since leaving the stronghold. The darkness below shifted as she walked, reminding her of water, and a distant whooshing sound demanded her attention.

"Hello?" she called out, heart pounding in her chest. "Is someone there?"

As soon as she uttered the words, the darkness fled, revealing a long, empty corridor with sandstone walls and a high ceiling. Light spilled in through the cracks in the roof, illuminating the showers of dust that floated in the air around her. Some of it drifted into her mouth and made her cough. The floor beneath her bare feet was covered in a thin layer of sand. She spread her toes, expecting it to feel good, but the grains were sharp and cold, like days-old-snow.

She crept towards the door at the other end of the corridor and slowly pushed it open. The room behind it seemed impossibly familiar, although she was certain that she'd never been in it before. It looked like the inside of a cathedral, with an arched ceiling and an altar that housed a large stone chair. The huge window behind it was devoid of glass, and the thick flax curtains on either side hung in tatters. Octavia meandered over to the chair and studied the strange crest that had been engraved into the stone. It was identical to the one on Asuka's robes.

"You don't remember, do you? What a pity."

Her eyes widened. She knew that voice.

Her breathing hastened as she whirled around to face the voice's owner. A stranger stood at the bottom of the dais, gazing up at her with crimson eyes. His hair was the palest grey she'd ever seen, accentuating the bluish-purple stripes on his cheeks and his lack of pupils. His armour was made of moss and bones, and his naked arms were thick and girthy. Octavia's stomach sank when she saw that his fingers were actually giant metal spikes that glinted in the sunlight.

"It's an honour to finally meet you, Okteviah True Jewel."

"It's you," she whispered. "You spoke to me when the bandit leader was . . . Who are you?"

"Don't be afraid," he murmured. "I'm a part of you."

"You're what?"

"We're deep in your subconscious. Outsiders can't exist here."

She glanced around the room dubiously. "If we're inside my mind, why does it look like this? I don't recognise this place. Or maybe I do. It's very confusing."

His blue lips curved into a smile. "This place was important to you once."

"But I've never been here before."

"You have. You've simply forgotten."

She frowned and studied the stone chair again. If he was telling the truth, it wouldn't be the only thing she'd forgotten. She definitely recognised that crest. Could it be connected to her past? What if her parents' disappearance had been more sinister than they'd all believed?

"I have a proposition for you, Okteviah."

"It's Octavia," she corrected.

"Not according to the prophecy."

She laughed. "Which one?"

"The only one that matters." He cleared his throat and recited it for her. "After a thousand years of suffering, Okteviah True Jewel will emerge from the jaws of the beast and stop the birds from falling out of the sky. It was the youngest Shikon Goddess herself who made this prediction."

"I'm getting so sick of all these prophecies. Tell me something real."

"Very well. About my proposition . . ."

He aimed one of his spikes at her chest, making her cover herself with her arms. Not that they would offer much protection against those hands of his.

"Whilst it's true that your life has been claimed, the payment can be delayed until you are ready to pay it. I'm willing to hold off the curse, as long as you give me something in return."

"Like what?"

"I want to be free."

She hesitated. "I thought you were a part of me."

"I am. I'm a prisoner here, Okteviah. Your prisoner. I'm tired of living like this."

"If I set you free, how exactly are you going to hold off my curse?"

His red eyes gleamed. "I will sustain your life long enough for you to find a more permanent solution. However, once you have, I would like to be released. That is my only condition."

Her conscience screamed at her to say no.

"What will you do when you're free?" she asked instead.

"I'm afraid that's none of your business."

"Then I don't accept."

He howled with laughter. "You foolish girl. Do you truly refuse me?"

"I do."

"You won't live to see the morning. Don't you want to watch the sunrise with your precious Daiyoukai? Your quest is over. You've won. Don't throw it all away for your morals."

She gnawed on her lip. What would happen if she died here instead of fulfilling her destiny? Would it matter? Or would someone else take up her mantle and become this Okteviah True Jewel? Unless the prophecy she'd heard from Totosai was the one destined to come true. Its meaning was just as unclear as the stranger's, but unlike this one – which spoke of victory – the outcome of the first prophecy was bleak and depressing.

She couldn't wreak havoc on the world if she was dead.

Nidawi's words still haunted her. Capable, yes? But willing? That remains to be seen.

Octavia swallowed. "I have a condition, too."

The stranger looked pleasantly surprised. "Oh? Do tell."

"If I agree to your terms, you have to promise not to hurt anyone after you're freed."

"That won't be an issue—"

"I'm not finished." She exhaled before continuing. "The same goes for me. If I ever use my powers to harm an innocent person, I want you to stop me. Let the curse spread . . . Let me die."

His brow creased. "Such a curious request."

"Well? Do we have a deal?"

He answered with a smile and stuck out his arm. She eyed the spikes on his hand cautiously, before reaching for one and wrapping her fingers around the pointed tip. His blinking matched hers perfectly. She tilted her head sideways and watched as he mirrored the action. He really was a part of her. Did everyone have something akin to this or was it unique to those with spirit magic?

"You got a name?" she asked.

He chuckled. "Of course."

"Are you gonna tell me what it is?"

"Perhaps some other time. I've always found introductions painfully tedious."

She tightened her grip and shot him a fiery glare. "All right. But let me make one thing clear. This doesn't mean I trust you. You might be a part of me, but if you even think about going behind my back and tricking me, I will fuck you up. Do you understand?"

He laughed harder, flashing jagged teeth. "I would expect nothing less from the princess of a sandcastle."

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Sesshoumaru watched as the sea dragon slipped a cushion under Octavia's head and brushed her hair out of her eyes. The cut on her hand had also been cleaned and bandaged. He kept his distance as instructed, but he was reluctant to leave the temple whilst she was still unconscious. Especially with the yosei infestation they were currently dealing with.

"How long until she wakes?"

"I'm not sure. The mark has spread far. She may never wake again."

He growled in response. "Her will is too strong to be crushed without a fight."

The sea dragon smiled and joined him at the foot of the altar. "It would seem I was wrong," she muttered softly. "You do believe in something. Despite everything, you have faith in her."

"A bold accusation for a runaway princess such as yourself."

She stiffened.

". . . When did you figure it out?"

"Just recently," he answered. "We met once before. It was during Tanabata."

"So you do remember."

Princess Nagisa sighed and stared down at her hands, which she was twisting anxiously. She'd changed drastically since the last time he'd seen her, hence why he hadn't recognised her sooner. Back then, she'd been lean and lanky, like a young fawn, but her personality had been larger than life. Honestly, he'd found her quite intimidating. After all, she was older than him, and her father was none other than Lord Arashi of the Northern Lands.

"Why are you here?" he asked.

She smiled sadly. "I told you. I washed up on the beach and nearly bled to death. If Taro hadn't found me, I'd be . . ."

"That explains nothing. Why didn't you fly back to the North once you'd recovered?"

"Because I didn't want to! This place is special. I can be myself here. For the first time in my life, I feel free. Besides, I owed Taro a life debt. Even you can understand the importance of that."

"It isn't necessary to bed the one you owe said debt to."

"I didn't do it out of requirement! I fell in love!"

"Then you're a fool."

Her eyes flashed red, and she snarled at him. "Don't berate me for something I can't control."

"Interspecies trysts never end well," he reminded her.

"And? I care more about the beginning and the middle. They're the parts that matter."

"What about Hiroto? The two of you have been betrothed since birth."

Her eyes returned to normal. Guilt-stricken, she turned away and said, "I couldn't return his feelings. He deserves to be with someone who cares for him as deeply as he cares for them. Unfortunately, that person isn't me. We would have made each other miserable."

"Still, he was devastated when he learned of your passing. How will he react when he finds out that it was all a lie?"

"You can't tell him. You can't tell anyone that I'm alive. They wouldn't understand. It would break them. You have to keep it a secret. Please."

"Begging doesn't suit you. Were you really that unhappy?"

"Weren't you? Don't tell me you enjoyed being treated like an accessory? Our fathers didn't care about us as individuals. The only reason they sired us was because they needed heirs to inherit their kingdoms. Our happiness never meant a damn to them."

Anger sparked in his chest. "Our duty is to our lands. They must always come first."

"Unless you're Touga-sama."

"I don't like what you're insinuating."

Nagisa ignored him and carried on. "Your father wasn't perfect, but at least he understood the value of love. He loved that mortal more than anything. So much that he died for his love."

"What a stupid thing to die for."

The sea dragon's eyes softened, and she reached across to touch his arm. "It's not stupid. You'll understand someday. When you love someone – and I mean really love them – you'll do anything to keep them safe. Even if the cost is your own life."

His eyes inadvertently shifted to Octavia. If Nagisa noticed, she didn't comment on it.

"I had a dream last night," she said. "It was about her. In my dream, she was dressed all in gold, and she was dancing inside a sandcastle. She looked so sad . . . Until you showed up."

He scowled. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because my dreams usually come true. They've become more frequent since the two of you set foot on the island. I think they're trying to tell me something." She squeezed his arm tightly and stared deep into his eyes. The intensity of her gaze was unsettling. "Could you do it?" she whispered faintly. "If it came down to it, could you actually bring yourself to kill her?"

"Have you gone mad?"

"Just answer me."

The logical part of his brain was telling him that he could, but it was steadily being overpowered by something he couldn't identify. The idea was absolutely preposterous. Why on Earth would he ever have any reason to kill her? Because it was written in a prophecy that she would bring about the end of the world? He'd never believed in prophecies, but even if he did, he was confident that she'd rather die than doom millions of innocent people. She wasn't a monster.

If anyone here was a monster, it was him, not her.

"I won't carry out someone else's agenda," he told Nagisa. "If she must die, then be prepared to execute her yourself."

The sea dragon smiled.

Before she could reply, Octavia's heartbeat suddenly accelerated, and her eyelids fluttered wildly. His feet moved of their own accord and carried him to her. The yosei scattered as he knelt in front of her and pressed his fingers to the pulse point in her neck. Her eyes peeled open, revealing bright green irises, and her pupils dilated when he came into focus. The corners of her mouth inched upwards as his hand cupped her throat. He stroked the underside of her jaw with his thumb and felt the weight on his chest lift when she chuckled, sending vibrations through his palm.

"Hello, stranger," she wheezed, smiling up at him.

A foreign feeling seized control of his body and almost made him lose control of his facial muscles.

The feeling in question was relief.

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