Chapter 43: Sanguinis
The sound of the door sliding across its rails resounded, and Dion brought himself back into the apartment.
Anastasia who had been left outside had gone silent, her eyes slightly widened and her mouth faintly parted in what should have been something she should have said.
However, once she had given him the name, she held it back. Her gaze fell back down to the drink, the quarter of it that she had left, allowing it to slosh, chilled by the cube.
She had only just been summoned yet she felt as if she had experienced so much of him.
The awareness of that filled her with such overwhelming feeling that even with the fact mundane alcohol could not inebriate her, she was filled with such a dream-like, dewy sensation.
Truly, she could not have been more appreciative in her judgement of becoming his loyal vassal.
Her hands brought up the drink, and she downed the rest of it in one go.
’Thank you, truly, Shijo. For watching over him as you have. The lands of souls will not treat you unkindly.’
Then, unlike he had, she allowed her glass to sit over the edge of the edge of the balcony.
It froze over within moments of her setting it down, and as she turned on her heel, following her majesty, it broke apart into flakes of shimmering ice that were lost to the slight breeze.
Dion at the same time had gone back into the living room, waiting for her to come back inside.
He watched as her figure turned to close the sliding door behind her, and he asked, "Is there a way to recover mana quickly? I of course mean apart from me drinking blood."
"I am afraid, for you, as a Sanguinis, there is no method more effective than feeding on the blood of the awakened."
Dion had gone to sit over by the long couch, right before the tv.
Anastasia excused herself as she brought herself onto her old seat once more.
"The awakened only?"
"Most mundane blood, unless possessing some sort of uniqueness, would only provide negligible benefit for you. It is unlike consumption of the soul—although even in my case the soul of a mundane being remains lacking—however by the virtue of the fact that the soul is inherently more mystically aligned than the body, the sustenance is greater in comparison.
The quality and condition of what we consume is directly aligned with what we are able to recover, and what consequence it may have upon you especially when you have only turned back into a Sanguinis."
Dion leaned against the back of the couch, reaching for the remote.
’Consequences? And I’m still in a sensitive period from my transformation?’
Dion certainly hadn’t physically felt that he was still in a sensitive period that would have consequences enough on him that she felt it necessary to emphasise them.
Although thinking more on it, there was one thing: His emotional volatility.
’Is that what she is talking about?’
In the few seconds that he had been thinking to himself about this, not hearing a response, Anastasia had continued:
"Apart from that, the more common methods would be rest or meditation. The aetherel within the planet’s prana naturally facilitates the generation of more mana as well as the regeneration of your vital and soul essence over time."
When she had spoken, Dion had reached for the tv remote. He had intended to try checking the signal once more.
It wouldn’t hurt to do so, and he would have been negligent not to at least try once more after so long.
Especially considering that there had been that news broadcast from Eve about some things that they had noticed in people that were turning.
But then Anastasia stopped him.
"I am afraid those strange signals in the air, by now, would be far too unstable for you to operate this construct connected to them. They cannot be transmitted well through the currently unstable prana."
The remote immediately fell from his hand, and he released the faintest sigh.
’Of course, prana again.’
Dion leaned his head back against the top of the couch, looking to the ceiling.
’I should just check if the person with the gun is still in this building, ask him where he got them, and then leave. With Anastasia, I should be able to cover more ground, comb through a few gas stations with her, find a car, and get to Novamed Hospital in the East District for blood bags.’
Dion faintly closed his eyes, and he imagined his route through the city.
’Horizon Park Mall is in that area as well, so I can pass by before going around Golden Valley to get out. If there is anything else from Eve’s broadcast that I’ll need to know, I can just find out from other people along the way. My sense of smell should be enough till then.’
Dion’s eyes remained closed a while longer, and beneath the slight silence he heard the shift of fabric as Anastasia settled herself.
The two of them didn’t speak then for long enough that he brought his head forward off the couch.
Anastasia’s gaze had been on him, he noticed as he opened his eyes.
It travelled from his eyes, down across his throat, where it finally lingered over his chest, as though she were trying to look through his clothes.
She looked back up at him, and asked, "Your mana must be low. Have you eaten since your renascence?"
Dion considered the question, his brows faintly furrowing at how particularly she had put it.
For a few moments before he had responded, he remembered, and his body reminded him of the sensation he had felt earlier—the feeling of his hunger returning after she had renewed her oath to him.
"Other than from you?"
"Yes."
"I fed earlier," he answered, his head falling back once more against the couch. "I drank from a Gnoll that I killed. It was rather bland if I’m being honest. And yet, I guess because it was the first time I had consciously done it, the feeling was euphoric. I had burned through all my mana to kill it, and I had been hurt badly. Honestly, I had no choice but to drink the blood of something."
The room went cold, and Dion’s brows furrowed faintly at the feeling of it crawling over the skin of his arms, prickling him.
This had been the first time that he had actually felt the cold that she released whenever she had.
All other times it had felt pleasant, like a cool breeze to him, despite everything.
Dion’s head pulled back, and he noticed she had risen from her seat.
’I didn’t hear her move...’
Anastasia’s hands had come together before her, one over the other, and her fingers were closed hard enough over her own knuckles that the whiteness of them made her seem like a walking, bloodless corpse.
For the first time since he had permitted her the name, it left her mouth without the slightest hesitation.
"Dionysus, you consumed the blood of that creature?"