#sacrificial

"You're restless again." your voice, soft as starlight, echoed through the dim chamber.

Blade's eyes snapped to you, a figure glowing faintly in the dark. You carried an otherworldly grace, a testament to your divine nature. A healer, Elio had said—a being who could offer him fleeting solace. He had scoffed at the notion when you first arrived, but now he couldn’t deny the faint reprieve you granted him, however temporary.

“I’m always restless.” he replied gruffly, averting his gaze.

You approached, unbothered by his curt tone. Blade was always guarded, his demeanor like an impenetrable fortress, but you had seen glimpses of the pain he carried—a pain so profound it rivaled the stars' lifespans. Kneeling beside him, you placed a hand on his arm.

"Let me help." you offered, your voice steady despite the weight of what you were about to do.

Blade hesitated, his brows furrowing. “You’ve done enough. It’s pointless.”

“It’s not pointless if it brings you peace, even for a moment.” you countered gently.

He didn’t argue further, though his jaw clenched. Blade allowed you to place your hands over his chest, your fingertips glowing faintly as your power flowed into him. A radiant warmth spread through his body, soothing the burning chaos of mara. For the first time in hours, the voices in his head grew quieter, retreating like a tide.

Blade exhaled sharply, his shoulders relaxing. But as the light dimmed and the healing concluded, you swayed slightly, your breath hitching.

“Are you alright?” Blade’s voice was sharper than usual, his gaze narrowing as he noticed your pale complexion.

“I’m fine,” you lied, forcing a smile. “It’s nothing.”

It wasn’t nothing, but you couldn’t let him know. Healing mara was not like mending physical wounds; it demanded more than energy. It tore at your very essence, leaving you weaker each time. You had accepted this cost willingly, knowing that your gift could ease Blade’s torment, but you hadn’t anticipated how difficult it would be to hide the toll it was taking.

Days passed, and Blade began noticing the changes. You moved slower, your hands trembling slightly when you thought no one was looking. The glow that once surrounded you like a protective aura now flickered weakly, as though a storm had dimmed your light.

“Stop lying to me.” Blade demanded one evening as you stumbled after a session. He caught you before you fell, his grip firm yet uncharacteristically gentle.

“It’s fine...” you murmured, leaning against him as your strength faltered.

“It’s not fine,” he growled, his frustration spilling over. “You’re weakening yourself for me. Why?”

Your eyes met his, soft but unwavering. “Because you deserve to live without pain, even if it’s only for a while. You’ve suffered enough, Blade.”

His hands tightened around your arms, his jaw working as he struggled to find the words. No one had ever willingly borne a burden for his sake. He didn’t understand it—why you would sacrifice yourself, even partially, for someone as broken as him.

“Don’t do this again,” he said, his voice low but fierce. “Whatever price you’re paying, it’s not worth it.”

“It’s not your choice to make,” you replied, your tone firm despite your exhaustion. “I’m choosing this. For you.”

For the first time in centuries, Blade felt something unfamiliar—a pang of fear. He had spent so long chasing his own destruction, yet now, the thought of losing you unsettled him in ways he couldn’t explain.

Blade began watching over you more closely after that. He noticed every tremor in your hands, every falter in your step. He tried to refuse your help, but the mara would always resurface, its relentless pull forcing him to rely on you again and again.

One day, after another grueling healing session, Blade didn’t let you leave. Instead, he sat with you, his expression unreadable as you rested against the wall, drained.

“You’re a fool...” he muttered.

“Probably.” you admitted with a faint smile.

Blade’s eyes softened, the weight of your sacrifices pressing heavily on him. “I don’t want this.”

“You don’t want the pain either,” you replied, meeting his gaze. “Let me carry a little of it, Blade. Just for a while.”

He didn’t answer, but the silence that followed wasn’t his usual cold indifference. It was something else—something fragile, like a thread connecting the two of you in the vast emptiness of the universe.

For the first time in a long while, Blade found himself wanting something more than destruction. He wanted you—and that terrified him more than anything.