Once Betrayed Never Forgotten

Chapter 95: Dance of Blood and Fire

Bloodhane’s POV ***

The early dawn light filters through the thin mist, casting a golden glow over the landscape as we advance towards the volcano, the peak of which looms in the distance like a sentinel guarding ancient secrets. I watch as Arianna and Pyra, in their respective elemental forms, glide effortlessly through the air. My own form, a dense cloud of crimson blood mist like Arianna’s, trails slightly behind, my thoughts as turbulent as the winds we ride.

Reflecting on the past days, a surge of gratitude washes over me. Freed from the clutches of Tatiana, the vampire who enslaved me as nothing more than an object of her desires. I revel in the newfound liberty. Tatiana used me, manipulated my abilities for her amusement and control. I despised her, every moment under her command a silent agony. The mentory of her touch still sends a shiver of revulsion through me.

As we solidity on a rocky outcrop to rest, my gaze inadvertently seeks out Pyra. She stands a few feet away, looking out over the vista, her figure a stark silhouette against the rising sun. The light catches her fiery reddish blonde hair, turning it into a halo of flames. When I first met Pyra, distrust clouded my judgment. A Fire Wraith, my sworn enemy, taught to hate and fight against from birth. Yet, these past days have unraveled the fabric of my prejudices.

I find myself drawn to her, not just by circumstance but by a connection that feels as ancient as the blood that courses through my veins. Her strength, her dedication to her duties, and the grace with which she handles the burdens of her past–it captivates me. I catch myself watching her, seeking her company, longing to engage her in endless conversations about everything and nothing. She challenges me, intellectually and emotionally, a sensation both exhilarating and terrifying.

“Is this what love feels like? I ponder, the thought unbidden but persistent. The doubt creeps in almost immediately. Pyra is a priestess, bound by vows of celibacy and service, her life dedicated to the Blood Scribe. Even if she felt something for me, would she forsake her duties? It seems unlikely. Honor and duty run deep in her veins, as they do in mine.

We gather our things, preparing to continue. Pyra turns to me, her golden eyes meeting mine, and for a moment, it feels as though she sees right through me.

“We should keep moving,” she says, her voice cutting through the cool morning air. “The path ahead is less forgiving.”

I nod, unable to articulate my thoughts, my heart heavy with unspoken words.

As we set off again, transforming back into our elemental forms, the journey becomes a reflection of my internal conflict. The physical terrain we traverse mirrors the rocky landscape of my emotions. Each time we solidify to rest, the proximity to Pyra is both a balm and a torment.

“We’re approaching the slopes of the volcano,” Arianna points out later that day, her voice tinged with excitement and apprehension. The volcano, named Pyrocardia for its ceaseless, fiery heart, stands majestic and foreboding before us.

I glance at Pyra, her profile set against the backdrop of our destination. “Pyrocardia is beautiful, yet daunting, I comment, attempting to bridge the gap between us with casual conversation.

“It’s like many things,” Pyra responds, her eyes not leaving the horizon. “Beauty often masks the dangers within.”

Her words linger in the air, and I wonder if she’s speaking only of the volcano.

As night falls, we make camp in the shadow of Pyrocardia, the glow from the crater casting eerie shadows around us. The heat from the earth warms the ground, and the air smells of sulfur and ash. We sit around a small fire, the flames dancing and casting flickering light on our faces.

“The Blood Scribe gave us these amulets for a reason, Arianna muses, touching her pendant. “She believes in our mission. And I believe in us.”

I look at Pyra, her face illuminated by the firelight, and for a moment, the rest of the world fades away. The journey ahead is fraught with peril, but for now, in this moment, I allow myself the luxury of hope. Maybe, just maybe, the path forward could lead to something more than just the fulfillment of a quest. Perhaps it could lead to understanding, acceptance, and dare I think it–love.

Pyra’s POV *** Content © NôvelDrama.Org.

The ascent to the volcano is etched with the deep oranges and reds of dawn, the sky bleeding light over the dark, rugged outline of Pyrocandia. As the colossal mountain looms closer, the air grows thick with the scent of sulfur and the oppressive heat that seems to pulsate from the earth itself. I glide alongside Arianna and Bloodhane, our forms ephemeral and flickering as we navigate the steep terrain.

In my heart, a turmoil brews, as fierce as the molten rock that flows beneath us. The memory of last night’s conversation with the Blood Scribe haunts

Chapter 95: Dance of Blood and Fire

of Blood

me, her words echoing like the distant rumble of the

volcano.

The scene flashes before my eyes, as vivid as the present. The temple’s chamber was dimly lit, the walls casting long shadows as I stood before the Blood Scribe. Her age–worn face was serious, her eyes piercing.

“Pyra, no one would blame you if you wished to remain here at the temple, and send Hestia in your place,” she had said, her voice a gentle nudge against my resolve.

I shook my head, clutching the fabric of my robes. “I will be fine, I swear it,” I replied, though a shiver of uncertainty traced my spine.

“Although it has been many years since your family fled that awful place, those who dwell in the volcano’s mountain chambers are still your kin. You will come face to face with them, it is a certainty. Look deeply into your heart, my child. Are you truly prepared for this?” Her gaze was unwavering. seeking the truth in my heart.

“I am, I had responded, but as I spoke, the faces of my long–dead parents flashed through my mind, their expressions fraught with fear as we fled into the night, away from our people, away from fire and ash.

The searing heat of glowing lava pulls me back into the present.

As we near the base of Pyrocardia, the landscape shifts to a fiery lava field, a wasteland of dark stone and creeping lava flows. The heat is immense, and though I am immune to its scorching embrace, I notice Arianna and Bloodbane struggling with the intensity. Their discomfort reminds me of the physical and emotional heat I am about to face–returning to a place I have fought to forget.

My thoughts drift to Bloodbane, his presence a constant source of unfamiliar emotions stirring within me. When I first met him, I saw only the enemy, a Blood Wraith, someone to be wary of by nature of our birthrights. But as the days passed, his strength, his honor, and the depth of his convictions have drawn me to him in ways I can’t fully understand. He is different, and the emotions he evokes in me are both thrilling and terrifying.

I’m scared to look too deeply into it, to seek out the truth of what our connection is.

The entrance to the volcano appears as we crest a ridge: a jagged, dark slit in the rock near the peak. It looks unassuming, almost inviting, but I know better. I recall from my childhood teachings that this entrance is a deceptive gateway to a labyrinthine maze, one that my tribe has used to ensnare intruders for generations. But it is the only way into the mountain, the only route we can take to reach our destination.

“We should pause here,” I say as we shift back into our solid forms near the entrance. I catch Arianna’s and Bloodbane’s inquisitive glances, their seeking answers in my guarded expression.

“It’s better for you not to know what happens next, so I won’t explain. But know that I am loyal to you both, always,” I assert, my voice steady despite the trembling anticipation inside me. With a flick of my wrists, golden chains of frozen, cold fire materialize, shimmering with a faint light. They link Arianna and Bloodbane together, shackling their wrists. I grasp the chains, feeling their ley touch against my warm skin. They look down in confusion at first, then realisation dawning on both their faces.

They will play my prisoners, and I will be their captor.

“Now, we enter,” I declare, leading them towards the dark maw of the volcano. As we step into the shadow of Pyrocardia, I steel myself for the trials ahead, my resolve hardened by the certainty of my path and the allies at my side. Inside, the true test of loyalty, strength, and courage awaits us all.