Yuta's hands clawed at the demon, shoving the skeletal frame away from him, one of his hands flew to his bloodied neck, the bite throbbed with the cold.
He had wanted to help against all reasoning, but now, he was fighting for his life.
The prince was persistent and desperate, they both continued to struggle on the floor of ice.
"Who are you?" Azarien rasped, but it was weak with confusion "Your blood… it can reach his curse? I am Azarien, not Elrien. I'm AZARIEN!"
His laughter erupted again, wild and broken.
"Brother, oh brother! How could you make me become your weaker self? I wanted to see your powers but you condemned me to this wretched eternity!" The words echoed with centuries old spite. . . And fear. He could recall those last moments in horrifying fragments.
He truly became the demon of the prophecy!
