When the Shadow got a chance, it watched Lindon itself. When it didn’t, it watched him through her eyes. But it wasn’t just Yerin’s attachment; Lindon was one of two beings the Blood Shadow was clearly aware of, the other being Yerin herself.
The Blood Sage snapped at her for blurring memories, and she knew she was being childish, so she tried to project them a little more clearly. But she was still sure that those memories would be the lowest quality of all.
At last, she came to Ruby. Receiving an independent body and then a name. Then time of her own, spent with Lindon. A few days of freedom.
Though it was her own memory, Yerin dreaded reliving the moment of combining with Ruby. She knew it wasn’t the case, but she somehow felt like it was the instant of Ruby’s death.
Instead, she felt the two of them grow more and more similar even before they combined. Their mutual concern about losing the Uncrowned King tournament made their thoughts almost identical. Their fears became one.
As Yerin, she felt like she had put down a burden she’d been carrying all her life.
As Ruby, she felt like she’d finally been released from prison. Now, she had all the freedom she wanted.
Yerin stared off into the distance. She didn’t notice that the lens and dream tablet had been removed until the Blood Sage handed her a handkerchief.
Only then did she realize her cheeks were wet.
“Thanks,” she muttered. She dried her eyes, then wasn’t sure if she should return it or not. That had been a surprisingly human gesture from the Sage of Red Faith.
It didn’t last long.
“Compose yourself. We can’t get anything useful out of you in that state. I will analyze your experiences and we will continue tomorrow when you’re useful again.”
He held up a needle. “In the meantime, I need blood samples. Before you resort to violence, understand that I am not injecting you with anything. Do you understand?” He snapped his fingers and drew her attention to the empty glass syringe. “Empty. I am extracting a sample of your blood, not injecting you with anything.”
When she didn’t respond, he made an irritated sound in his throat and grabbed a jug of clear liquid. “I will first demonstrate on this water. You see, when a syringe is empty—”
Yerin thrust out her wrist. “Take it all, if it means you keep your teeth together.”
“That would be counterproductive.” The needle stuck on her skin at first, but when Red Faith focused and pushed with greater intention, he pierced through and into the flesh. “I will be taking a tissue and madra sample as well, but those can wait until you have regained control of yourself.”
“Did you train to make people hate you, or is that some kind of bloodline technique?”
The Sage focused on the blood slowly filling the syringe. “I say what I say and do what I do without any regard for the opinion of others…” He pulled the syringe free and dabbed at her skin. “…at all. It has always been strange to me that others don’t do the same.”
Yerin’s arm had healed already, but she watched the Sage focus his perception on the sample of her blood. “I’d say you’d have an easier time with your research if you didn’t act like you were hunting babies to eat.”
“Yes, I imagine people would likely cooperate more readily if they didn’t see me as a deranged cultist. That is more Redmoon’s niche than mine, but there is always some name people will call you.” He swirled the blood around and locked it in another machine while he scribbled some notes. “Before cultist, I was called the mad tool of a Dreadgod. Before that, a crazed researcher of forbidden knowledge. Earlier still, it was ‘ghost child.’”
He held up a scripted ring and inspected the blood through it. “I do not require the comprehension of others. My research will benefit every sacred artist in this world whether they understand it or not.”
For a second, that made sense to Yerin. She could see the logic from his perspective.
Then she remembered the people she’d seen killed by Blood Shadows. Including her own parents.
Whether he was responsible for that specific incident or not, and whatever his intentions were, he had knowingly put other people through the same experience she’d survived. And worse.
Yerin hopped out of the chair. “We done?”
The Blood Sage continued his monologue as though he hadn’t heard her. “It is because of Redmoon that our organization is known as a ‘cult’ at all. If I were in charge, we would be known as a research society.”