Chapter 45
Minutes later, the parents stood at the side of the altar.
The woman dressed entirely in black stood before them, her posture calm, unmoving. In her palm rested a small golden chest, its surface etched with symbols that pulsed faintly.
Lying on the altar was a baby. No more than a few months old.
Yet the sight was wrong.
The child's body was an unnatural icy blue, as though his insides were completely frozen. He looked like something pulled straight from a block of ice, fragile and lifeless.
And yet he lived.
Every once in a while, a weak thump echoed from his chest. A heartbeat. Slow. Struggling. Proof that life still clung to him, though for how long, no one could say.
The woman turned to face the parents.
Her voice was even. Empty.
"Are you certain of your decision?"
She glanced back at the child.
"He may die instead of being saved. And even if he survives, he may be forced to endure agonizing torment for the rest of his life. Are you prepared to bear that?"
