The Duty (Play to Live: Book # 3) Read Online Free Page A
Author: D. Rus
ring? As if. The Fallen One's steely fingers clasped my forearm like a bull terrier's jaws, ripping out a piece of my flesh.
"Holy fuck! What d'you think you're doing?"
He seemed to have already cheered up. "You can't make a good charm without some blood magic," he raised a meaningful eyebrow.
"Think you could heal me now?" I asked with concern as I stared at my profusely bleeding arm getting numb with every second. It didn't look as if an injury inflicted by a god could regenerate.
"You wait. It's not only your flesh, it's part of your life energy you're donating."
"Hello? I don't think I've given you my consent to any-"
I promptly shut up watching the Fallen One rip off a generous chunk of his own flesh and add it hastily to the mix. We seemed to have some serious business here: mithril, adamant, God's flesh... Could I have the recipe, please?
With that thought I noticed the blood dripping down the Fallen One's divine hand and scattering in the grass in the shape of tiny rubies. Those had to be priceless provided you could gather them inconspicuously , my inner greedy pig insisted as he rummaged through his virtual closet in search of the biggest pot he could find. God's blood! his greedy voice whispered into my ear. Millions—no, billions—in gold! Trillions even, yeah right. Somehow I doubted the Fallen One would appreciate my trying to scoop them up at that particular moment. Especially considering the fact that my arm was already numb all the way up to the shoulder, the sensation creeping down, squeezing my chest and making my heart flutter.
"Listen, AI311," I wheezed, "I'm afraid I'm not feeling very well. My body's sorta numb."
He gave me an attentive stare and nodded. "It's probably even better this way. You sit here. And seeing as we've mentioned it, please don't call me that name any more. It's like someone calling you a sperm—well, or an embryo. Even though that's probably exactly what I was at the time, I'd appreciate it if you didn't focus on it any more."
"Freakin' embryo," I managed to whisper back, all my muscles stiff, my own tongue wooden and unwieldy.
In the meantime, the Fallen One had shaped the resulting mix into a hefty disc the size of a large coin. He clenched it in his hand and cringed, glancing up into the sky, as if expecting some yet unknown repercussions. Shrinking his head into his shoulders, he brought the artifact to his lips, breathing life into it.
Bang , the heavens boomed. No other ramifications followed. Cheering up, the god took my unfeeling hand palm up, laying the artifact in it. Now I could clearly see the Fallen One's logo of the streamlined yin and yang: the symbol of life's two eternally intertwined forces.
With a sympathetic glance in my direction, he mouthed a barely audible command. The coin glowed, heating up. My flesh hissed and began crackling, turning black, then scorching. My life bar promptly shrank. The god didn't let it drop too far, though, healing me as required, while I stared through the sickening whiff of barbeque smoke at the crimson-hot metal sinking into my open palm.
I rolled my eyes, calling him all the names under the sun but still grateful for the timely administered anesthesia. Finally the hissing subsided as our faces lost the crimson hue from the reflected flames. The Fallen One swept away the remaining whiffs of blue smoke and paused, studying my hand. He grunted, pleased, then touched his finger to my forehead, restoring sensitivity.
I rubbed my hands together, removing the caked crust from the already healthy pink skin surrounding the yin-and-yang-shaped scar. Then I gave the god a not-too-happy glare. "Where should I apply for the collar?"
"Which collar?"
"You know what I mean. White Winnie's got his already, now it's apparently my turn."
Bang , a divine hand clipped me round the ear stripping me of 90% health. I stood up, forcing back an instinctive right hook to his jaw. No, punching your head god wasn't really kosher. Much
"Holy fuck! What d'you think you're doing?"
He seemed to have already cheered up. "You can't make a good charm without some blood magic," he raised a meaningful eyebrow.
"Think you could heal me now?" I asked with concern as I stared at my profusely bleeding arm getting numb with every second. It didn't look as if an injury inflicted by a god could regenerate.
"You wait. It's not only your flesh, it's part of your life energy you're donating."
"Hello? I don't think I've given you my consent to any-"
I promptly shut up watching the Fallen One rip off a generous chunk of his own flesh and add it hastily to the mix. We seemed to have some serious business here: mithril, adamant, God's flesh... Could I have the recipe, please?
With that thought I noticed the blood dripping down the Fallen One's divine hand and scattering in the grass in the shape of tiny rubies. Those had to be priceless provided you could gather them inconspicuously , my inner greedy pig insisted as he rummaged through his virtual closet in search of the biggest pot he could find. God's blood! his greedy voice whispered into my ear. Millions—no, billions—in gold! Trillions even, yeah right. Somehow I doubted the Fallen One would appreciate my trying to scoop them up at that particular moment. Especially considering the fact that my arm was already numb all the way up to the shoulder, the sensation creeping down, squeezing my chest and making my heart flutter.
"Listen, AI311," I wheezed, "I'm afraid I'm not feeling very well. My body's sorta numb."
He gave me an attentive stare and nodded. "It's probably even better this way. You sit here. And seeing as we've mentioned it, please don't call me that name any more. It's like someone calling you a sperm—well, or an embryo. Even though that's probably exactly what I was at the time, I'd appreciate it if you didn't focus on it any more."
"Freakin' embryo," I managed to whisper back, all my muscles stiff, my own tongue wooden and unwieldy.
In the meantime, the Fallen One had shaped the resulting mix into a hefty disc the size of a large coin. He clenched it in his hand and cringed, glancing up into the sky, as if expecting some yet unknown repercussions. Shrinking his head into his shoulders, he brought the artifact to his lips, breathing life into it.
Bang , the heavens boomed. No other ramifications followed. Cheering up, the god took my unfeeling hand palm up, laying the artifact in it. Now I could clearly see the Fallen One's logo of the streamlined yin and yang: the symbol of life's two eternally intertwined forces.
With a sympathetic glance in my direction, he mouthed a barely audible command. The coin glowed, heating up. My flesh hissed and began crackling, turning black, then scorching. My life bar promptly shrank. The god didn't let it drop too far, though, healing me as required, while I stared through the sickening whiff of barbeque smoke at the crimson-hot metal sinking into my open palm.
I rolled my eyes, calling him all the names under the sun but still grateful for the timely administered anesthesia. Finally the hissing subsided as our faces lost the crimson hue from the reflected flames. The Fallen One swept away the remaining whiffs of blue smoke and paused, studying my hand. He grunted, pleased, then touched his finger to my forehead, restoring sensitivity.
I rubbed my hands together, removing the caked crust from the already healthy pink skin surrounding the yin-and-yang-shaped scar. Then I gave the god a not-too-happy glare. "Where should I apply for the collar?"
"Which collar?"
"You know what I mean. White Winnie's got his already, now it's apparently my turn."
Bang , a divine hand clipped me round the ear stripping me of 90% health. I stood up, forcing back an instinctive right hook to his jaw. No, punching your head god wasn't really kosher. Much
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