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His heart felt like it were being squeezed by someone with daggers for fingers. Amath’s breath came heavy, his eyes closed as he focused on banishing the pain. He would not have bothered opening them, had he not heard the shuffling downstairs, the sound of a loud clang as sword hit floor.
Gathering his strength, Amath pushed himself out of bed and dragged his feet to the stairs, grasping at the railing as he went down. He was halfway down the stairs when he saw Yuval standing there, staring blankly at the sword he held in his hand.
“Yuval... ”
There was no answer.
“Let go of that stupid thing,” Amath snarled.
Yuval looked up, gaze still blank for a moment, but then he seemed to focus on him, to react at last.
“You shouldn’t be up.” He called in worry.
Amath slowly made it to the bottom of the stairs. “Put the sword down, Yuval.”
Yuval, surprised at this call, looked down at his hands. He had but a moment to realize he was holding the sword, before his gaze went blank again.
“Yuval,” Amath called carefully, taking an uneasy step towards him.
This time, when the wizard looked up, there was no recognition.
“Yuval,” he called again, holding out a hand to him.
As if guided by external forces, Yuval suddenly raised the sword... and with a cry, lunged for him.
“Val!!” Amath called, both in surprise and to try and get his attention, but it was useless. He dodged the sword at the last moment, his pain making him slower.
Swiftly, Yuval spun on his heel and brought the sword down again at an arc. The wizard had experience as a swordfighter, but Amath had even more experience in physical fights, both with and without weapons. He was stronger as well, so long as the wizard used no magic to aid his physical strength. Thus the demon dodged the sword again, sending Yuval stumbling. He didn’t want to hurt him, he needed only to take the sword... he readied himself as Yuval quickly regained his footing...
Had his chest not tightened then with pain, he might have succeeded in his plan: dodge and take the sword from his lover’s grasp. Yet it did, heart skipping a beat in the process, sight swaying just as Yuval charged. Amath tried to dodge, but all he managed to do was get a gash across his side. His hands, barely missing the mark, managed to grasp at the sword blade. The sharp edges cut into the skin, the metal burnt through the bandage of his wounded hand, and burnt the other as well. Yuval tried to push the sword into him, but Amath’s grip was feral. Neither could move.
This time the demon didn’t shy from the pain. He closed his eyes and followed it, followed the magic that was being sent to him through the sword – fed from it.
He was floating.
That’s what it felt like, once the pain became so bad that it just became a numb, dull feeling at the back of his mind.
He was floating in the dark, and there were drums beating.
He was floating in the dark, and there was a sphere of energy ahead. Energy of various colors, swirling around each other.
He was floating towards it, it felt as if it might try to swallow him... and when he was before it, Amath reached for it and dug into it, teeth and nails. His. No one was going to feed from him. He, Amath, would feed from it first.
Amath’s hold on the sword loosened, and he fell. Yuval, no longer under the spell of the sword, collapsed too. The sword clattered between them.
