It's time. One's Full Moon shines all over the land. Luna's situation is a small pond near an ocean into which One stone has crashed. What follows is a mere glimpse at those ripples.
***
It's not his seed. What does that mean, it's not his seed. Of course, it's his seed. It HAS to be his seed, there isn't anyth-
"Stop it! Stop it, please! One can fix this! Please stop hurting yourself Luna!" My hands are covered in blood as the demon tries to hold me down. I can see them ripping and tearing their way into my belly. The echo deep inside me is getting colder while a river of fire burns through my guts. The demon keeps shouting at me, the few glances of my vision that cross his face show true fear. Fear for me. 'That's strange. He was so much stronger than me before. Why can't he even hold my hands?' Wherever we are, we need to leave here soon. I can hear a pack of wild hounds snarling as they butcher some prey. They seem to be playing with their food though, it's still shrieking.
~ ~
Stop it. Stop it, stopit stopitstopitstopit!
One's power finally returning, One pins Luna's hands above her head, pressing her face to the side as she keeps fighting. 'One has to act quickly. Too much blood. Star's don't have that much blood in them, must heal. Must make her stop!' Seizing her shoulder with One's fangs, Its venom pushes her into the grey quickly. Luna's body finally quiets and stills. The noise the sweetling makes now is worse somehow. One's chest must have been damaged from her struggles, It burns-
"One must keep focused. Tasty is asleep now, must stop the blood." Finally able to survey the damage, One must ignore Its own wounds which ache as One calls on Its power. One's world turns red as Its eyes blaze and whirl. The air thickens, laden with heat and darkness, as One's nightfall gland coagulates for Its purpose. The ambient light seemingly devoured by the pits of Its eyes, the crescendo coalesces with a deep breath. One bends Its face down to the wound on the pretty's stomach, mixing the light and breath and blood, One sighs over the gouges marring her perfect flesh.
Focused more than any time before, One strives to perform without flaw in Its task. Over many long minutes the blood slows and stops, the wound subtly drinking its life back. The mangled chunks of flesh regrouping and joining anew with their siblings and neighbors. One maintains the flow of healing even after the red fades from Its eyes, and past when Its own body begins to shake and shudder and Its vision folds in shapes not meant to be seen. Finally completing Its work, One collapses to the side, making sick as It struggles to breathe once more. Impatient with Its flesh's failing, One places Its ear against the pretty's stomach and doesn't relax until It hears the steady thrumming of life inside.
"If Luna had only listened to One. One explained that It would not fail her. Warriors are silent and sleep now. One will take care of Luna, Luna safe with One," crisis adverted One collects the wrapping cloth and redresses the pretty. Taking care to not disturb her, One rebinds her breasts but something nags at the back of Its head. Taking one into Its hand, One feels the weight and give, then turns Its focus on the rest of her body, "Is Luna ill? Tasty is missing some meat. One will ask after Luna wakes. One's mind just lying to Itself again."
~ ~
~ ~
A man clad in armor so very similar to One's own storms through the hallways. Runes etched into the tile beneath him flare in his wake. Unfamiliar with the location, the man must stop and check the brilliant symbols adorning the walls to orient himself. Finally, coming to the doorway, he strides through past the other vistors, the shining four-sided star lighting the entrance to the infirmary. His rank and more probably the aura of crackling power giving him a wide berth as he searches the rooms. The third ward on the left catching his attention, its signature resonating with his memory.
Entering the healing chamber the man removes his armor. The silver plate cast aside like rubbish as he intrudes on the patient inside. He walks up to a bed and its occupant sits himself up, slowly, gingerly. Getting fully upright on the bed the man holds his head and wavers slightly, "Hey there, bro. How you doing? Heh heh, better than me I hope." The wards in the room ignite at the glut of power and rage given off by the visitor. Reaching through an ocean of pressure the man grabs his brother by the collar of his shirt, not even able to shake him from the defenses in place, "How fucking dare you! Thinking of leaving Sis to my care! I just got back in the regiment, I'm not even through the Rebirthing yet! I live on a fucking bunk and you think its all right to just fucking die and leave me to deal with that shit!"
Not managing more than a light breeze of a shove, the soldier backs away, the wards still burning brightly, but no longer restraining his movements. He paces back and forth in front of his brother. Anger at the Well Mage unabated for his transgression, "I may have earned that, but you got to hear me out, bro." With a snarl the younger man whips around, "Don't try to pull any of that mind shit with me,
Brother.
I've already read the report. You forget that I've got no qualms using every dirty trick I've learned when doing something that matters."
Staring at the man sitting on the bed, wards shining, the snarling visage breaks as the boy collaspes to his knees, "It- it said... They said you could have died. Th- the report said you've been careless with the Veins. The healer said... he said you almost left us man." The mage pulls himself out of the bed and hugs himself around the smaller man, "God, man no. That's not what happened, you know that's not true. I would never leave you, Brother. I wouldn't do that to you, nor would I hurt Sister like that. You know that, right?"
