The day was dull, the lingering chill of winter resisting spring's hesitant arrival. Luciana's morning had been a difficult one, with her activities restricted to the bare minimum. Yet today, she had made a decision—to heed the pleas of the servants.
At her instruction, a group of manservants carefully lifted her unconscious husband and carried him toward the mystic garden springs. The void had been consuming his soul for longer than anyone could recall, and now, the dark markings that marred his skin had spread further, winding like ancient vines from his right shoulder down his back and across his chest. The demonic runes etched into his flesh pulsed ominously, their twisted script radiating a quiet malice.
As they descended the broad stone steps leading into the mystic ice gardens, the heavy gates swung open before them. Inside, the world was eerily still, the air thick with the weight of something unseen. Nemesis remained behind in the care of Mina, safe from whatever was about to unfold.
Luciana moved toward the spring, feeling the gentle lapping of the water as it caressed the smooth stones at its edge. Kneeling, she extended a hand over the surface, her voice a soft murmur as she began reciting the sacred scriptures. The reaction was immediate—ripples spread outward, the water shimmering faintly, as though trembling at the sound of her invocation.
"It's purified." Her voice was calm, though a hint of strain touched the edges. A faint glow shimmered across the water's surface, confirming her success.
Turning back, she found the servants waiting, Erebus' body laid atop a makeshift raft of thick wooden planks, bound together to prevent him from slipping beneath the surface. Jafar and Blake exchanged a brief glance before carefully lifting him, their movements measured as they slowly submerged him into the steaming pool.
The water reacted instantly.
Black bubbles frothed around him, merging with threads of faint golden light. The contrast was stark—light battling darkness, purity rejecting corruption. A surge of heat radiated outward, the water churning violently as though repelling an unclean presence.
Blake and several others instinctively stepped back, unease flickering in their eyes.
Luciana bit her lower lip. This was worse than she had anticipated.
"Everyone, step back. I will handle this from here."
She shed her heavy cloak, revealing a lighter robe that clung to her frame like a chemise. The cool air nipped at her skin, but she ignored it, her focus entirely on the task ahead. Taking a steadying breath, she whispered another incantation before stepping into the water. The warmth enveloped her as she moved forward cautiously, testing the depth with each step.
Erebus' body floated eerily, the spring refusing to accept him.
She had seen her father perform a purification ritual once before, on a soldier afflicted by a powerful paralysis curse. She could only pray she was doing this correctly.
His upper body had been stripped bare, exposing the full extent of the demonic markings. Placing one hand over his chest, she searched for his heartbeat. There was none. The void had drained his life force, his vortex long since stilled. Her other hand pressed lightly over a freshly healed scar on his abdomen, the evidence of past battles etched across his skin. His body bore the wear of countless wounds, some new, others ancient.
The sun had reached its zenith by the time she began.
At first, the resistance was violent. The black fog coiled around him, thick tendrils rising like smoke from his cursed markings. The water, once a source of healing, now seethed with rejection.
Her hands burned as she chanted, a searing pain creeping up her arms.
Still, she did not falter.
The ritual pressed onward, the sacred verses flowing from her lips in steady succession. Slowly, a shadow began to stir within him—a writhing black mass, clinging desperately to its host. His body convulsed, muscles seizing in agony. Then, without warning, his groans escalated into full-fledged screams.
His eyes snapped open, turned completely white.
The markings on his body ignited, smoldering as though set ablaze from within. Smoke curled from the runes, the purification scorching through layers of corruption. His body thrashed wildly, the water splashing violently against the stone edges of the spring.
Luciana was thrown back by the force of it, but before he could break free, Blake and Jafar moved swiftly, restraining him as best they could. His screams turned guttural, inhuman, until, at last, the black mass began to detach—peeling itself away in thick, clawing strands.
The boiling water scalded Jafar's legs as he fought to hold Erebus still.
And then—one final, piercing wail.
The last remnants of the darkness wrenched free, ripping itself from his body in a violent expulsion. His convulsions slowed, his head lolling back, a weak moan escaping his lips before he went still once more, unconscious.
Luciana gasped, her breath ragged. Her hands were blistered, scorched raw from the purification. The pain was overwhelming, but her thoughts were elsewhere—on the tiny life she carried. Had she pushed too far? Had she put the child in danger?
The ritual had taken half the day, draining her to her very core.
But something was wrong.
A murmur of alarm rippled through the gathered onlookers. Jafar's eyes widened.
"What is that?"
Luciana followed their gaze—and felt her stomach drop.
Suspended above the steaming water was the black mass. But it was no longer a formless void.
It had taken shape.
A grotesque, pulsing thing, charred and veined with blackened fire. Its center glowed faintly, a sickly, shifting light.
"A heart," she breathed, horrified.
Not just any heart—his heart.
Jafar paled. "The soul is trapped inside it," he warned. "Be careful, my lady. Do not touch it directly. It may attack—or consume your life in turn."
Luciana swallowed hard. Purifying his body had been difficult enough. But cleansing a diseased soul—a cursed heart—was a far greater trial.
Her hands trembled as she steeled herself.
"Just one more push," she pleaded silently. "God, please… grant me strength."
Behind her, a voice cried out urgently.
"My lady! Destroy it before it takes root again!"