The Blood of Strigoi was encased in an orb of arcane script and floating in midair where Viktor just stared at it.
With a sigh, Viktor waved his hand and the energy of the dimension materialized a figure. A figure that Caius recognized as Conscience. He looked the same in the memory as he did now.
"From this moment on, until one arrives to do what I cannot, you will be the Keeper of the Blood," Viktor said.
Conscience bowed in acknowledgment.
"You truly wish it destroyed?" He then asked.
"You know I do. I have imparted to you my memories, my emotions. You should understand better than anyone ever could why this must be done," Viktor said.
Conscience furrowed his shimmering brow.
"Yes, but—"
"But?"
"I can sense reluctance within you. A seed of doubt that makes me question what it is you truly want," Conscience said with a respectful bow.
Viktor's eyes never left the Blood and he said nothing.
As the silence wore on, Conscience became uncomfortable.
