| |
Nearly a month had passed since Dayonera's resurrection, but she had yet to rise from her bed. Jessica sat in her parlor, sipping her bloodwine and wishing her sister would come out of her room. With a slow sigh, Jessica set her glass on the decorative table next to her favorite chair. She rose and passed through the hundreds of wards in the main hall of her home and knocked on the carved redwood of Dayonera's door. When no response came, she entered. Dayonera lay on the bed with the covers drawn to her chin, staring up at the phoenix and dragon mural on the ceiling.
"You should rise and at least walk around, sister. Your body is immune to atrophy or starvation, but your spirit will not bond properly to the vessel without interaction with it."
"This body," Dayonera whispered, the first words she'd spoken since her resurrection. They came with an echo of preparation, as if her mind had circled around them for hours. "It belonged to someone else, didn't it? You killed her to bring me back."
Jessica nodded. "Of course. Living vessels are better than synthetic ones; they bond more permanently to a soul."
"And the woman who owned this body? Where is her soul? It's not here with me."
"Naturally not. I have stored it for later use. She was very powerful, as were all of the vessels I chose."
Dayonera slowly sat up. She hadn't changed her clothes or brushed her hair, but her appearance remained flawless. The thick network of grooming spells Jessica had placed on the body were almost as numerous as the ones she had on herself. "There were other women, other vessels?"
"Of course. I needed spares in case the first did not bond properly." Jessica was quickly becoming bored with the conversation, irritated at her sister's judgmental tone.
"How many?"
"Six more. The one you wear makes seven."
"I want to see them." Dayonera slowly maneuvered herself into position to stand, and Jessica held out a hand to help. The moment Dayonera was on her feet, the two of them were standing in a chamber with seven stone beds, akin to a crypt, except this mausoleum held living souls. On six of the beds lay the motionless bodies of women held in stasis, positioned like naked corpses. Dayonera frowned. "Release them, Jessica. Let them go."
"Why? Their power will be—"
"Let them go!" Dayonera insisted, her eyes flaring with anger. "And release the soul of the woman you murdered to make this body. I want nothing to do with the enslavement of these women."
Jessica's face retained its usual expression of impenetrable stoicism, even though she was surprised by Dayonera's passion. Never before had she seen her sister display such emotion. "Hm," she mused, lifting her hand. A glass bauble appeared in it, the shifting light within revealing the trapped spiritual energy. "This is the soul from your vessel. I refuse to release it, but you may do so. It is yours to do with as you will. You must relearn how to live and how to use your body and magic. When you do so, any soul or prisoner in our home that you wish to free, you may. I must warn you, though. If it is some misguided idea of mercy or justice that inspires you now, know that the evils they do after you set them free will be your responsibility. Many of the souls enslaved in our home have done exceptionally vicious deeds and will continue to do them if released."
Dayonera took the globe and nodded. "I understand." She looked to the women lying motionless in the cold prison. "I wish to release the innocent and repentant."
"Hm. You have changed much more than I could have imagined, sister."
Dayonera narrowed her eyes at Jessica. "And you, sister, have not changed in the least."