Ch. 16 - Black Matter

The floor was icy and rigid. Naomi's palms pressed against them, as Damien and Oliver stood above her. Damien continued to interrogate Oliver, sending him occasional death threats. It would have been bearable if it wasn't for Naomi's light-headedness and the sudden dizziness that was taking over her.

Perhaps Damien had been right. Perhaps, the castle was teeming with dark magic at the moment, and perhaps royal blood was sensitive to it. What did that mean for her grandmother?

Everything she feared when she first heard of the news of the Queen's absence was all crumbling down onto her. Damien and Oliver's voices only got louder. Naomi understood none of what they were talking about. What was so important at that exact moment? What was more important than her only family's life?

"AHHH!" Naomi let a chilling shriek.

Murder, dark magic, death, to hell with that!

Oliver and Damien winced into silence. The halls were filled with nothing but Naomi's bated breath.

"SHUT UP! SHUT UP! THE BOTH OF YOU"

She gathered every last bit of her strength to get up, and charged at Oliver. Completely caught off guard, Oliver fell back onto the wall behind him. Naomi grabbed his collar and pushed him up against it, enough to see him struggle to breathe.

"I'm going to take the throne. You're going to announce when dawn breaks that I will hold office until the Queen awakes. That clone goes. It dies. Or you die."

Oliver coughed through Naomi's grip, "N-Naomi…"

"That's Princess Naomi to you. You are subservient to me. Nothing more." Naomi gripped tighter. Oliver choked, until the veins on his neck turned blue, but even then he managed to give  a nod. It was all she needed.

She gave Oliver one more push, before letting go of his collar. He fell, gasping for air, coughing in his old age. Though Naomi felt no sympathy as the image of her grandmother entered her mind. She's always considered Oliver the closest to family after her grandmother, but she never felt it reciprocated. She thought she'd been overthinking it all this time. Who would've thought her hunch was exactly it?

At the very least Naomi knew that Oliver was unconditionally loyal and equally attached to her grandmother. That much he was sure of, but it never occurred to her that it would be the very thing that would drive her to her demise.

Demise. The word made Naomi want to die.

Naomi looked at Oliver one last time. She clenched her fists, and thought of all the vile things she could commit at the moment, but in a single moment she was pulled back into consciousness when she heard Damien's voice.

"You can't touch him. Your nose is bleeding."

Damien pulled Naomi behind him again. Naomi had no strength to fight back at the moment. Her head pounded, and her surroundings felt far. She kept her glare at Oliver.

"Your room is prepared. I will prepare for tomorrow's announcement." Oliver croaked before walking away from the two. He was an empty shell to Naomi. Everything she's thought of her butler up until then was gone from the old man she was looking at that moment.

Naomi huffed as he disappeared into the darkness, but as he did so did Naomi's consciousness, until everything else went dark for her.

—

Damien caught Naomi again. This was becoming an irritatingly normal experience. He hated it.

"Naomi. Please." He adjusted to lay Naomi in his arms comfortably. He was never developed enough to carry much heavy things, but Naomi was so light it didn't matter much. But even then Damien struggled. He was tired too.

He hadn't rested since the day Naomi passed out the first time. He then thought back to Lenz. It'd been nice if he was here to help them. He laughed at the irony of wanting Lenz to be with him at the moment. He remembered being so irritated by him too.

Damien lowered Naomi with him, until Naomi rested comfortably on his lap. Looking at her like this, it really did just look like she was sleeping. Damien rolled his sleeve over and wiped at Naomi's nosebleed. Minus that of course.

There were still traces of dark magic on Naomi. Mainly where Oliver had touched her. He huffed out as he gathered enough of his energy, before beginning the purification process.

He had the power of purification. Generally, negative elements of the world, like Death and dark magic, deposited black matter off of them. Damien couldn't actually see it with his eyes at the moment, but he could feel it at the least. It is, after all, what powers a large portion of the Underworld. To  him this black matter meant nothing. It felt almost comforting to him.

However, for mortals it can cause things like sickness, emotional distress, or worse, suicidal thoughts. Then there are those few that are completely sensitive to black matter. There are a select few whose sensitivity to the matter was so intense it only meant death. Royalty, mainly.

Damien ran his hands over Naomi. She was cold to touch, again.

Perhaps it was the black matter that caused Naomi to faint the first time. Perhaps it was also the cause for Naomi's adverse reaction to Death too.

It made a bit more sense now.

It still didn't make sense why the Underworld wanted her though.

Damien huffed out, as he shook his head. Those were trivial thoughts. Damien wasn't going to let the Underworld take her. Especially now.

Damien lost track of how long he'd been purifying Naomi, but by the time most of the matter had dissipated, he had already fallen back onto the wall behind him, and the room around him felt upside down.

He'd never expended that much energy before. He had always purified black matter, mainly from the excess of Death's presence, but black matter from dark magic was far worse and far more in quantity. Dark magic is never to be toyed with.

The image of Oliver flashed in Damien's thoughts. How had that old man used dark magic, or let alone magic? He thought magic had become obscure for mortals.

Damien shook his head again. There was no time to fall into such trivial thoughts.

He looked back down at Naomi, looking for any signs of her consciousness. They were still in the hallway after all, and at that point Damien didn't even have the strength to get up. What more carrying another person with him?

He looked down at Naomi.

At the very least the color on Naomi's lips were back. The same blush pink as her hair.

Damien traced his thumb against Naomi's cheeks, and followed a blooming pink on her skin. The pink comforted him, strangely enough, all the way down to her lips.

Even in the dark she was beautiful.

Damien was always drawn to beauty, but he rarely found anything beautiful. Naomi was though. Beautiful. Having little to no energy left, Damien closed his eyes and along with Naomi fell into a deep sleep.

Right there, in the middle of the hallway, the two rested in each other's comfort. The dark was comforting now that it was only them. The silence was music. Damien held onto Naomi through the night.