Part twelve:Second court's affirmation by blood

"It will be only a kiss, not the true death, they will not destroy the blood, the ordinance will preserve its vessel, the portal will renew the seals including the flesh...it is time." The column of white light went out. 

A sharp pain sliced through my body but before it could be fully realized, what was in my blood was also in the rest of me, all of me! I could not connect it with anything, no taste, no smell, no memory...it permeated like water, of being soaked on the inside, an ocean within, the depths of power from which I may draw...was inexhaustible!

There was a burst of colors above us, the likeness of which lingered in the stone. Its dissipation seemed to devoured the very matrix that filled the interspace until blue, green and violet foamed at the rim of a black hole. A small white sphere appeared in its centre simultaneously I felt something rose from the deepness I held within, the two light beams collided with fury, one from the portal hole and one from...me. 

They moved. Thirteen circled us. The light fell upon faces that were made of a pale metal warped crudely over the bone-flesh, normal flesh could not fold like that, could it? They rose with us. As I stared into their eyes the ordinance briefly parted for a single memory to move to the periphery. Fear. Dread came from those eyes, dread that emanated from the contrary effect where even as intensifying as their core whites were their powers were each contained by an outer ring of darkness. When I turned away, the reapers, Lich King and I, all passed through the parted veil...

...to the other side.

They carried my body to the altar. My skin was ashen as if severely anaemic. They laid me down. My body though, did not rest upon the stone, instead it levitated just above it. One stood at my head, another at my feet and the third reaper started inking symbols on my flesh, specifically on my forehead, my upper arms, the wrists and my ankles. What the pen and ink were I could not tell nor did I wanted to know. But my soul, body less as it was, felt every mark, felt the slight tingle of their penetration, the vigor of its seeping magic. 

Again the purview was my lifeless form being manipulated by powers beyond me...my soul, my poor soul...helplessly looking on...

The pen ascribed a pentagram upon my chest, as the colors moved to its edge the flesh parted. Verdure, violet and blue did a concentric dance over my opened heart, my lifeless heart. A pale heart, deathly white as my skin, as if the tinge of blood had never touched it. Then they kneeled. The genuflection was in no way performed for me, it was in respect to something else. What could make immortals such as these bow down?

I felt them, the powers of night and day, felt the solemn fear, not the fear from horrors of the mundane, no, this was fear that rides in thunder, when you are close to the beginning, close to that of your making. Light on the left and darkness on the right, this was the manner in which the deities appeared, the moon brought my blood and with the sun was the ordinance!

This was the claiming.
The ordinance was power, power no scroll could hold, so it came as fire. They placed its golden flame in the blood chalice. It devoured the flame. My blood, it moved like a formless parasite, a starved parasite, until it rose like the flame, blood fire, madness! The chalice was given to me. "Drink!", they said. I was bidden to drink, by two deities. The taste of heat and iron cloaked me like a shroud until I, my soul, too became the dark flame. 
"Rise!" they said to my body and it stood up, with opened heart and moonlight skin, a corpse, my corpse. They pointed it to my burning soul and bid it drink, moon and sun bid it drink!