«Blood Ritual»

Chapter 7 — “Blood Ritual”

Albert did not even have time to understand what had happened. The world swam, darkness filled his eyes, and his body collapsed.

The two did not bother figuring anything out. They seized the reins and dragged the wagon, together with the horse, toward the Bone settlement.

Closer to the camp, several hours later, Albert began to come to his senses. One of the riders had already raised his spear to knock the prisoner out again, but the second stopped him with a short gesture. Strend did not like waiting, and an unconscious debtor would not be able to speak.

The blow did not come.

Albert was only made to understand — stay silent. Otherwise, they would take his head off.

The Bone settlement looked grim. A partly collapsed log fence, crooked wooden houses, some on rough supports. Everything was uneven, piled together, as if built on top of the old world.

The town was small, but layered.

Below — mud, pits, cages.

Captured people worked in silence. Khemars hung in cages or fought to the death in hollows dug into the ground.

Screams, growling, knocking.

Life here was worth almost nothing.

Albert sat in the wagon, rubbing his head and looking around without much interest.

Everything around him was familiar.

— Get down, worm, — one of the “white ones” threw at him. — And take the girl with you. The chief will speak.

Albert silently jumped down, pulled the little Veyna from under his clothes, and stuffed it back into the sack.

He reached for the girl, but she had already woken up. She looked around, then stretched.

There was confusion in her eyes.

But not fear.

The girl stood up on her own and followed.

At the large building, the gates swung open. Albert and the girl were shoved inside and led down a long corridor. On the walls, in places, hung torn banners showing a tree — old, darkened, almost erased.

The corridor stretched narrow and oppressive.

At the end, a hall opened.

Strend sat in an armchair, sprawled like the master of the whole world. In his hand was a cup of wine. He gave orders lazily, without even trying to rise.

— Oh… Albert… dear friend… — Strend drawled, not immediately looking at his guest. — Always glad when debtors return. Why haven’t you come by for so long?

Sarcasm leaked through his voice.

His gaze slid to the girl.

His smile grew thinner.

— And who do we have here? A new guest? You know I don’t favor women… and this one is still small… bony…

— Why did you bring her?

The smile vanished.

Albert and the girl were roughly forced to their knees before the chair. Strend took an unhurried sip.

— Well? Did you bring the debt?

Albert crawled forward on his knees.

— Yes… I was already on my way to you to repay the debt. On the road, I met your warriors. I tried to explain where I was heading, but no one listened… they just knocked me out and brought me here themselves…

Strend laughed.

— Ahaha… Looks like you’ve been gone so long they don’t even recognize you anymore. And do you know what that means? Now you owe twice as much.

Albert was suddenly grabbed by the arms and dragged back. He began kicking.

— I have something!.. Something to repay the debt, even more! — he shouted.

Strend waved his hand.

— Then speak. If you lie, you’ll pay with your teeth again.

The guards stopped.

— She… there was a Veyna in the sack. A small one. And this girl…

Strend had already begun raising his hand.

— She can command Veynas! I saw it myself. She ordered them, and they left!

Strend snorted.

— Wonderful. Every tenth person here can do that after a Khemar heart. But what good is this one? She’s no fighter. Do you not feed her?

— I found her in a cocoon, in the ruins! — Albert added hastily.

— Not enough. That is not enough. Choose — an arm or a leg. You know what I don’t understand? When I came to your settlement, you were dying. I helped you. And what did I get in return? Or have you decided to follow Sarah’s example?

A sharp wave of his hand.

— Put him in the cage with the hungry Khemars. Let’s see whether this one saves him… find out if today is his day. And the little beast — to the kitchen.

The sack with the Veyna was ripped from the girl and thrown at Strend’s feet. It hit the floor and gave a piercing squeal.

The girl’s eyes flashed green. The Khemars in the cages howled, and the air in the hall grew heavy.

— She’s hurting! — Diana cried and swept her hands outward.

A yellow wave passed through the hall like a thin crescent. It struck only once, but it was enough — the top of the cup in Strend’s hand was cut off evenly and cleanly.

Silence took over the hall.

Everyone tried to understand what had just happened.

The guards were the first to rush at the girl. They grabbed her by the hair, ready to chop through her neck.

— Stop! — Strend roared. — Thick-skulled idiots… Let her go!

With clear interest, the chief came closer.

— Now that is a gift… Little worm, I didn’t expect that from you.

The girl sat on the floor, almost unconscious. Fragments of images rose in her head, refusing to form a whole. She did not understand the place or what was happening.

Still watching her closely, Strend continued:

— This is more than enough to close the debt. But you lied to me, Albert. You did not tell me about such power. And that is dangerous.

Albert stayed silent, afraid to breathe too loudly.

Strend bent down and poked the girl with a finger — there was no reaction.

— Hey… little worm…

Then he straightened, picked up the sack with the Veyna, pulled the creature out, grabbed it by the hind legs, and held it in front of the girl’s face.

— What do you say? Will you give your name? Or shall we keep playing?

The Veyna squeaked, twisting.

A memory flickered in her head: someone reading a book, pictures, a voice… and two words that remained especially clear — “magic”… and the name — Diana.

Strend narrowed his eyes.

— I don’t like being ignored.

His hand was already raised to strike, but instead his fingers tightened harder around the little beast.

— I told you… let her go… she’s hurting…

Her voice sounded weaker, but the air began to grow heavy again.

Strend smiled.

— Tell me how you do it — and I’ll let her go.

The girl raised her head. Green eyes looked straight at him, without fear.

— It is magic. And I am not a little worm. I am Diana.

— Magic… — Strend repeated quietly. — Something new. And it seems very useful.

The Veyna was thrown back to the girl. Strend walked to the table, took a new cup, poured wine, and sat back in the chair.

— Albert, your debt is paid. But for lying, you stay with her. You will watch over her. Teach her to serve — and you will be free.

A sip of wine.

— You may go.

Diana and Albert were taken to a worn-out hut at the edge of the camp. Half-collapsed, with crooked walls and gaps between the boards, the hut barely stood and clearly needed repair, but the roof was whole — it did not leak.

— Here’s your housing, — the guard threw roughly. — It has a roof, so you can live in it.

Already leaving, he added:

— You’ll find the wagon and horse yourself.

Ordinary conditions for this place.

Diana behaved like an ordinary child who had lost her memory. She looked at everything with wide-open eyes, repeated words, sometimes movements, as if trying to piece the world around her together again.

The Veyna was left with them too. Small, red, quick. She was given a name — Ryzhulya. At first, the little beast did not leave Diana’s side for even a step, hiding behind her and hissing at everyone.

It was Ryzhulya who stayed near her when Albert left for several days to gather materials for repairing the house.

During those days, no one touched Diana. People spoke in whispers, remembering old tales — about the first people whom Udgal punished, stripping them of memory and leaving them to wander among the living like shadows of the past.

They avoided her not only because she was a stranger. Here, no one trusted anyone. But fear of Strend was stronger — one extra glance, one extra word could cost dearly. It was easier not to notice.

Over time, Diana began going into the forest with Ryzhulya — as Strend had ordered. The chief wanted to see results.

Hunting was difficult for her. Diana did not like it. Every time Ryzhulya lunged forward and the animal tried to break free, something inside her tightened. But there was no choice — in the Bone camp, no one asked what you wanted.

Albert stayed close, watched, remembered. Over time, he grew more used to Diana, and watching over her stopped being only an order. His behavior also became more familiar and normal.

A year passed this way.

One evening, after returning from the hunt, they began cooking. The hut was quiet — only the fire crackled, and smoke drifted from the hearth. Diana fussed over the pot, stirring the food, sometimes wincing from the heat. Ryzhulya, as usual, moved around nearby — at the door, under the table, then settling by the fireplace, stretching lazily, though her ears kept moving, catching every sound.

— I dreamed again… — Diana said quietly, without turning around. — A boy. We were playing… he was laughing.

Albert looked up at her.

— And what else?

— Wagons… strange ones. Not like ours. Iron. They move by themselves.

Albert was silent for a long time, then exhaled heavily.

— I think you’re already old enough to understand… Most likely, you don’t remember. I found you in the ruins. Under the rubble. You were… in a cocoon.

Diana froze for a moment, but immediately looked away, as if she had not fully understood what she had heard.

— And in the forest today there were little animals, — she said in a different tone. — Small ones, with long ears. And birds… they sang so strangely.

Albert understood.

She did not want to continue.

He did not insist.

The conversation changed — quiet, everyday. As if nothing had happened.

The food was almost ready.

Diana took the pot off the fire and placed it on the table.

— Ryzhulya! — she called calmly.

Silence.

Diana smiled slightly:

— Probably roaming around somewhere again.

They began to eat. At first silently, then exchanged a few phrases — everything as usual.

But after a few minutes, Diana froze.

Something was wrong.

— Ryzhulya… — now more attentively.

There was no answer.

Albert also grew alert. Ryzhulya did not behave like this.

Outside came the usual noise of the camp — voices, laughter, swearing. Nothing unusual.

But Ryzhulya always came when called.

Diana slowly stood.

— I’ll look.

She stepped out of the hut, looked around, and only now felt it — the anxiety was not outside, it was inside. From the direction of the pits, where the locals usually gathered to watch Khemar fights, came noise. Laughter, shouts, dull impacts. Something was happening there again.

Diana followed the sound and soon saw a crowd at the edge of a pit. Below, in the enclosed space, a fight was already underway. On one side — Ryzhulya, on the other — a hungry Khemar. The beasts clashed at once, teeth tearing flesh, bodies striking the ground, and every new bite drew an approving rumble from above. Ryzhulya was weaker, but she was fed and moved differently — she did not charge straight in, but leapt back, wore the other beast down, waited for the moment. The Khemar lunged blindly and furiously, and at one point made a mistake — Ryzhulya sharply slipped aside and sank her teeth into its throat. One short jerk — the Khemar’s body went limp.

The crowd exploded with shouts. Several people jumped down, tore open the carcass, and pulled out the heart — a dark crystal, which they immediately broke apart and swallowed raw with a crunch. One of the young warriors, laughing, climbed up to the cage.

— Well, let’s see if I’m chosen… Come here, Ryzhulya…

He opened the bars and stretched out his hands, as if calling a dog. Ryzhulya, breathing heavily and limping, slowly moved toward the exit.

— That’s it… good girl… now you’re mine…

The little beast obeyed until the very edge. Then suddenly lunged. She sank her teeth into his hand, and a scream cut through the roar of the crowd. The young man tried to shake the Veyna off, hit her, jerked his arm, but she did not let go.

— Ryzhulya!

Diana broke from her place. By the time she reached them, the little beast had already weakened and was thrown aside, collapsing to the ground. The young man, choking from pain, raised his foot to finish her off.

— Don’t touch her! — Diana shouted.

She fell beside Ryzhulya, pressed her to herself, and touched the wounds. Light softly flared in her palms, warm and yellow, wrapping around the body. The blood stopped, the wounds began to close. The noise around them faded, people began stepping back, exchanging glances. Only a few onlookers remained by the pit.

The young man sat on the ground, clutching his hand, not understanding what was happening. Diana carefully lowered Ryzhulya, stood, and approached him. For a second, her gaze became hard — her hand almost rose, but Diana froze, remembering Albert’s words. These people had not been like this from the beginning.

— Give me your hand, — she said calmly and showed him with a gesture.

The young man hesitated, but stretched it out. Diana touched him — the light flared again, weaker, heavy. The wound began to close. She strained, finished it, and stepped back. Her head spun, her body became heavy.

— Don’t… do that again…

Diana tried to leave, but her strength finally left her, and she collapsed to the ground. Ryzhulya, already recovered, was the first to run to her — whining, licking her face, trying to pull her. A moment later, Albert appeared. He quickly understood what had happened, lifted Diana into his arms, and silently carried her back. The crowd no longer shouted — now they simply watched her.

Albert carried Diana into the hut, laid her on the bed, and covered her so she could recover. Ryzhulya settled beside her, not moving a step away, quietly growling at every sound outside.

Night turned to morning. Diana woke as if nothing had happened — only a slight weakness reminded her of the day before. She stepped outside, and messengers were already waiting at the entrance.

— Strend wants to see you, — one of them said shortly. — Now.

Diana exchanged a glance with Albert. Ryzhulya, without waiting, was already walking beside her.

They were led into the hall.

— Come in, sit down! — Strend shouted with feigned joy, pointing at a table loaded with fruit. — I thought we’d have to come to you ourselves. Help yourselves, this is for you.

Strend tore off a bunch of grapes and began eating, carefully watching their reaction.

— I was waiting for Diana to come to herself, — Albert answered calmly. — After yesterday, she lost consciousness.

— Hm… after yesterday? — Strend raised an eyebrow, pretending he knew nothing. — And what happened that was so special?

Albert hesitated for a second.

— The Veyna… was stolen. Thrown into the pit. When we found her, she was near death. Diana… healed her. I don’t understand how. It is… a miracle of Udgal.

— A miracle, you say… — Strend smirked. — Eat, eat. If the girl is fainting, she needs to gather strength!

He leaned back in his chair, continuing to watch.

— And how is control of the Veyna going? Working?

— Yes… but… — Albert faltered. — Nothing like that… happened again.

— Magic? — Strend asked quietly.

— No, — Albert answered quickly.

Diana ate grapes in silence, occasionally throwing berries to Ryzhulya. The Veyna caught them straight out of the air.

Strend smiled, but his gaze remained cold.

— Well then. Good. So it’s not that simple. — He ran a hand over his beard. — A healer who heals without herbs… quickly and without unnecessary noise… will be useful to us.

Strend thought for a second.

— Enough with the hunting. A year, and not much use. Let her do what she does better.

He stood up.

— That’s all. I have business. Take the food and go.

They left.

Strend remained alone and, no longer smiling, stared at one point. He had no doubt — this could be used. And it had to be.

From that day on, everything changed.

At first, people came carefully. At night, one by one. Hiding, looking around, almost whispering as they asked for help. Then during the day, but still trying not to draw attention. Fear still held them.

But over time, the fear began to leave.

Over three years, Diana grew up. No longer a girl — a young woman. Her power changed too. If before she could help one or two, now she received dozens. She grew tired, weakened, but did not refuse.

People began bringing food, herbs, hides. Some thanked her openly, some in whispers. Some no longer hid that they believed in her.

And it changed the camp.

The Khemars obeyed more easily. People became stronger… and harder. Their looks changed. Their behavior too.

Strend paced through the hall, his steps echoing hollowly from the stone walls. His hands trembled with tension. He grabbed a cup from the table and hurled it hard into the wall — it shattered, splashing wine in dark stains across the stone.

— Too much… — Strend hissed under his breath. — Too fast…

He stopped, braced his hands on the table, breathing heavily. Faces rose before his eyes — people who no longer looked at him as they once had. Something else had appeared in their gazes. Not fear. Not submission.

Expectation.

Strend straightened and swept everything within reach from the table. Dishes crashed onto the floor.

— I pulled them out! — he almost shouted into the emptiness. — I gave them strength! I gave them meaning!

The silence in response only sharpened his irritation.

He began pacing in circles, faster, more nervous.

— And now… the girl… — Strend smiled crookedly. — Grew up under my nose in four years… and now she’s a “miracle”…

He raised his eyes to the wall where wine was still running down.

— Kill her?..

Strend shook his head.

— No… no… stupid…

He stopped and slowly inhaled.

— Too useful.

Strend bent down and picked up a shard of the cup from the floor — the one piece that had survived almost whole, only cracked along the edge. He ran a finger along the break and thought.

Blood.

A drop appeared on his skin.

He froze.

His gaze changed.

The thought came sharply. Cleanly. Like a blow.

— Blood… — Strend said quietly.

He looked at his palm, then at the hall.

— If they believe in her… then she must be mine.

A smile slowly stretched across his face.

— Not just nearby… not merely under control…

Strend clenched the shard tighter.

— Mine.

He was no longer pacing — he stood calmly.

— A ritual… — Strend whispered. — Bind. Tie. Make her part of…

He laughed quietly.

— Then let them believe… But they will believe in me.

Strend threw the shard back onto the floor.

— Prepare everything, — he said louder, as if someone could hear him. — Gather the people.

— It is time to show them… who they belong to.

By morning, a rumor had spread through the camp — there would be a blood ritual that evening. They said Strend would take Diana into his family. To many, it sounded like an honor. To Albert — like a sentence. He tried not to show his fear, calmed Diana, said it was only a drop of blood in a cup, nothing more, and that, as before, he would be beside her.

By evening, the whole settlement had gathered around the great fire. Wine flowed freely, people shouted, laughed, danced, warming themselves up before something important. When Strend stepped forward, the noise gradually fell silent.

— All my life I dreamed of a daughter like this! — he began loudly, spreading his arms. — And I could not find a better one!

He paused, looking over the crowd.

— Like me, she makes this settlement stronger. Helps it survive. And though she is young, she will become my right hand. A worthy heir.

The voices died completely.

— So let us exchange blood… and empty the cup to the bottom!

Strend took out a knife, cut his palm, and held out the iron goblet. Blood slowly filled it. He handed the knife to Diana.

She froze only for a second. Under Strend’s pressing gaze, she did the same.

Their blood was poured into a large bowl.

Strend drank first. Then he forced Diana to drink.

— Now she is my daughter, — he said quietly, but loud enough for everyone to hear. — And you are my family. Drink.

Wine was added to the bowl, and those closest to him began drinking from it one after another.

With every sip taken by others, Diana grew worse. First — weakness. Then heaviness in her body. The world began to swim.

Somewhere deep in the darkness, lines flashed.

Overload…

Network overloaded…

Analysis…

Unknown subjects detected…

Optimization… impossible…

External processes shutting down…

Protecting main subject…

The light grew brighter, and her body stopped obeying.

Everything around her slowed.

Diana saw Albert running toward her. Saw Ryzhulya tearing after him, squealing, not understanding what was happening. But the sounds no longer reached her.

Her eyes closed on their own.

And in that light, she saw him.

The boy.

He stood before her… also inside a cocoon. Diana did not know who he was. But she felt it — familiar. Warm. Close.

At that same moment, a wave of power spread from her.

People were thrown back, the fire swayed, dust rose. For an instant, everything around disappeared in a thick haze.

When it cleared, the camp froze.

Before them stood a cocoon.

Large. Dense. Alive.

Inside — Diana.

Albert was the first to run up. He pressed his palm to the surface.

Warm.

Alive.

He felt the beating of a heart. Diana was inside. And she was alive.

People began sinking to their knees. Someone whispered, someone cried, someone simply stared, unable to look away. From deep in the crowd, someone let slip:

— It is a sign of Udgal…

Others took up the words. First quietly, then louder.

All Strend could do was watch as a wave of faith swept over the camp.

— Udgal has given us a sign! — he shouted, cutting through the rumble. — That means we are on the right path! We must raise a place of worship!

The crowd roared, accepting his words as truth. Until morning, the camp drank and celebrated, as if forgetting everything that had happened.

The next day, after a short rest, a place for the temple was suggested to Strend — a cave in the forest, hidden between the rocks. Once, a shrine of the Deep Forest settlement had stood there.

They cleared it in a matter of days. Stone was chipped away, earth carried out, the entrance reinforced, supports set in place. They worked without stopping, as if they no longer felt fatigue.

The cocoon was carried there carefully, like a holy relic. It was placed in the depths, where a single ray of light broke through a crack in the rock and fell directly onto it, spreading across the walls in a soft orange wave.

The cocoon itself seemed to answer that light — glowing from within, warm and steady, as if it were breathing.

People came to look. At first from afar. Then closer.

That was when Strend began to notice the changes.

Those who had drunk from the bowl on the night of the ritual became different. Stronger. More enduring. Their movements became more confident, their gazes calmer. They argued less, followed orders faster, as if something inside them had aligned.

Strend watched.

For a long time.

In silence.

And understood.

Blood was not merely a symbol.

It was a connection.

The thought caught hold and grew very quickly.

The sacrifices began almost at once.

Hearts of beasts were brought to the cave — fresh, still warm. They were laid at the foot of the cocoon, on the steps, like offerings. Strend himself made the first cut on the cocoon’s surface. A thick, glowing liquid emerged from it.

He ordered it collected in bowls.

Only the chosen were allowed to drink.

The effect came quickly. Small wounds closed right before their eyes. Fatigue vanished. People felt a rush of strength.

But it did not last long.

And that suited Strend.

People began to return.

Again and again. To ask. To bring. To believe.

Some hearts vanished, crumbling apart, while the cuts on the cocoon closed.

Rumors crept beyond the camp. First as whispers, then as stories — about the girl in the cocoon who gave strength to the Bone camp. The legend began to live a life of its own.

One night, the forest grew restless. The guards at the cave entrance did not notice the strangers at once. Shadows moved quickly, almost silently. Black clothing clung tightly to their bodies — strange, smooth, without fur, unlike anything in the camp. The strangers did not shout, did not speak to one another, acted in perfect coordination.

The first strike was precise — one of the guards collapsed without even managing to cry out. The second jerked to raise the alarm, but an arrow had already entered his throat, cutting off the sound.

They were going to the cocoon.

Purposefully.

As if they knew the way.

Almost at the very goal, the alarm still flared — Ryzhulya was the first to sense the strangers, hissed, and darted toward the guards, raising noise. But the first to burst into the cave were not warriors, but those who came to pray. Unarmed, in a rush of blind faith, people threw themselves at the strangers, grabbing them with their hands, knocking them down, not letting them move.

When Strend arrived with his warriors, the fight was already choking itself out.

— Stop! — he roared. — Leave this one alive.

The last one was pinned to the ground. The prisoner breathed heavily, but did not resist, staring somewhere through everyone.

— Do not kill him. Find out who sent them, — Strend growled.

For an instant, everything froze. Something metallic flashed in the prisoner’s hand.

A dull pop.

The sound was short and sharp — everyone’s ears rang. The stranger’s body went limp.

Strend froze for a second, then his face twisted with anger.

— Find the rest! Search the forest!

But it was already too late. The forest was silent.

He approached the body, crouched, and ran his hand over the clothing. The material was thin, strong, smooth, nothing like the hides or cloth they were used to.

Not theirs.

Not from the camp.

Strend straightened. Cold anger appeared in his eyes.

— Sarah… — he said quietly.

Only she could dare something like this. Only she had people, forges… and the mind to come up with such a thing.

He clenched his fists.

— I will come to you… — Strend whispered. — And you will answer. For everything.

Strend turned to the cave, to the cocoon in which the light pulsed softly.

— No one… — he added quietly, — will take from me what belongs to me.

End of Chapter Seven.