A puddle of blood pooled around him. He dared not concentrate on healing himself when he was on the verge of insanity.
The determination to give a piece of himself to her was unlike anything he ever experienced. He didn't notice the tears, blood or sweat.
They all mingled. He was drenched in them. A mess, not one left behind as the aftermath of war. Rather, one whose cause was love.
An emotion that decides the fate of the world. Finally, he succeeded in separating a fragment from his soul. His shaking bloody hand moved towards her heart.
He knew nothing about any spell to share a soul. If that was the only way a soul could be transferred, this day would be the worst.
Every fibre in his being willed the soul to merge with hers. He felt it even with his eyes closed. He felt the changes, his eyes snapping open.
