Thorin returned to the sanctuary, but it changed with his presence. Without protection, the sanctuary would become like a living tomb for the scorned prince. Like in the apothecary, Caela would find that most plant life wilted from his mere essence. The blood curse was quickly becoming something greater.
It was out of Thorin's control.
When he had transferred his energy with Igraine, some part of him left his very being. He walked like an empty shell, as if something else controlled his movements. His eyes wouldn't carry the same light, but a darker hue that possessed a strangely luminescent surge.
Even his body changed. His skin tone was no longer grayed, but mapped with a twisting miasma, that spoiled his very veins. While he gained the chaos sword, it had also taken some part of him. His thoughts were clouded, jaded, with surreal promises that would never see their end.
Some part of him tried to recollect Igraine, but he was only reminded of his current act. Thorin had tried to save her, but in doing so, he had damned the both of them. From sharing his dark energy he had torn himself from her presence. It should have been a simple process- yet he had felt his energy try to overtake her-rather than heal her injured body.
If the baby was lost, there was little he could do to comfort Igraine. In his crazed mind, he considered them broken. His memory, should be nothing more than a shattered dream and completely forgotten- it would be best for her.
The new sword continued to create the blackened miasma poisoning his veins. By the time Caela arrived, the sword's power would have already rooted itself in his very soul. Thorin would be changed, overwhelmed by his own guilt and the intoxication of power- although Caela may try to convince him otherwise.
He didn't call out to his sister, but he had a feeling she would be hunting him. Thorin knew he had threatened her life and jeopardized Igraine's. He wouldn't be surprised if others joined her. Gripping the sword, he simply had no choice but to wait in her home. Recalling the events with Trydian, he found it ironic that he was back where he had started.
The shadows enveloped the small room, as if they were an entity on their own. Some shadows formed as physical webs, interlacing their mass, to create a cocoon for its master. Since his journey, his energy had been depleted- but not dramatically.
He remembered feeding here, but now he only saw the remains of rotted food. The rotted remains had been the cause of his sister's temperament. Thorin wondered if he had caused his own fall. He would need to find nourishment and take command of his current residence. Without Caela, very little would survive, but he was sure he could manage.
The darkness fed him enough ego and energy, so thoughts of helplessness quickly left his mind. Leaving his sister's small home, he moved toward the Vuri lake where he had felt calmness before. It was daunting being near the lake, considering it created a fear instead of comfort.
Something called to him, asking Thorin to unsheath the Vuri blade. It was as if some force pushed him forward with the action- something with a greater will. His blood would be Vuri, but it would hold a poison in the venous depths of his body.
Without hesitation, he sliced his right arm and let the blood flow into the lake. The lake didn't react at all at first, but he noticed slight changes in the water. The lakes surface had once possessed a brilliant blue, but it now churned into a blackened crimson. The body of the lake became a livid torrent of energy, quickly creating a calm over the lakes surface.
Thorin watched in amazement, his attention turning back to the wound on his arm. He felt it heal, slowly, but it mended regardless. This would be his world now, his father would have no place here. If the current change of atmosphere wasn't a big enough threat, than the change of the lake, would be immediately felt by the other Vuri.
The lake was now connected to Thorin. His poisonous blood quickly became the new life force of the sanctuary. Thorin didn't fully understand what was taking him over, but he knew that he didn't have any reason to fight against it.
.