Page 103 of Feral Gods
Ravik's hand covers mine where it clutches the pouch, his touch gentle despite his warrior's strength. "He would do the same—has done the same—for any of us."
"The fundamental principle of our connection," Zephyr agrees, scholarly detachment giving way to quiet certainty. "Reciprocal sacrifice freely offered."
Their unanimous support steadies me, transforming desperate hope into actionable determination. Grief still pulsesbeneath the surface, but now it fuels purpose rather than paralysis.
"We'll need to prepare carefully," I say, the Codex continuing to feed information about necessary components and conditions. "The ritual requires precise timing—the convergence of specific celestial alignments with elemental harmonics."
"The Blood Moon approaches in four days," Zephyr observes. "When Protheka's twin moons align in conjunction while passing through the Warrior's Constellation. Significant timing for resurrection working, particularly for one with Thane's warrior nature."
"Four days to reach Obsidian Falls and prepare the ritual space," Ravik calculates, ever the strategist. "Challenging but feasible if we depart at first light."
As they discuss logistical details—routes, supplies, potential obstacles—I cradle the pouch against my chest, focusing on the faint pulse of energy within. Not imagination or wishful thinking but genuine essence, preserved through some combination of wildspont energy, blood connection, and what I can only call love—the emotional bond that transcended curse and transformation alike.
"We're coming for you," I whisper to that flickering presence. "Hold fast, wherever you are. We're bringing you home."
Whether he can hear or sense this promise seems less important than making it—commitment manifested through spoken word, intention given form through voice. The ritual the Codex reveals operates on similar principles—will and word combining to reshape reality at its foundations.
"The greatest risk falls to you," Zephyr cautions, his attention returning to me. "As primary channel for the resurrection energy, you'll bear the brunt of dimensional transition. Your blood connection to Morwen provides necessary power, but also creates vulnerability to backlash effects."
"I understand," I assure him, having absorbed this reality through the Codex's direct knowledge transfer. "And accept the risk without reservation."
"There must be protective measures we can implement," Ravik insists, protective instinct warring with respect for my agency. "Magical buffers, energy distribution systems?—"
"Some risk can be mitigated," I acknowledge, "but not eliminated. Resurrection magic fundamentally requires exchange—life force temporarily surrendered to guide dispersed essence back to cohesion."
"Then we distribute the burden equally among the three of us," Ravik decides, his tone leaving no room for argument despite its gentleness. "Each contributing proportionally to our capacity."
Zephyr nods agreement. "Logical approach. My scholarly training provides discipline for controlled energy channeling. Ravik's warrior resilience offers necessary endurance. Your blood connection supplies the power source. Perfect triangulation of complementary strengths."
Their calm rationality in face of extraordinary risk humbles me. These beings who've lived centuries, who've only recently escaped curse-bound imprisonment, willingly risk everything to restore our fourth—not from obligation but from love.
"When did I become so fortunate in my companions?" I wonder aloud, the question slipping past emotional barriers before I can contain it.
"Fortune suggests random chance," Zephyr corrects gently. "What binds us transcended probability from the moment you awakened us. Some connections exist beyond conventional explanation."
"Some treasures are worth any risk," Ravik adds simply, the former commander's economy of words carrying deeper meaning than flowery declarations.
The fire crackles in momentary silence, casting dancing shadows across our transformed features. Outside, the rain begins to ease, suggesting clearer weather for tomorrow's departure. Despite overwhelming odds and uncertain outcome, something settles within me—not quite peace, but its precursor: purpose.
"We should rest," I suggest finally, practical concerns asserting themselves. "The journey to Obsidian Falls will test our endurance, especially while maintaining vigilance against pursuit."
Both nod agreement, though neither moves immediately to prepare sleeping arrangements. The unspoken question hangs between us: how to configure ourselves tonight, with Thane's absence creating negative space in our usual sleeping formation?
"Together," I decide, answering the unvoiced concern. "As close as possible. His essence remains with us—" I touch the pouch at my throat. "—and deserves place in our circle."
Without further discussion, we arrange the cabin's limited bedding before the hearth—furs and blankets forming communal sleeping space rather than individual bedrolls. As we settle together, Ravik's powerful form curves protectively around my back while Zephyr faces me, the pouch containing Thane's essence placed carefully in the small space between us.
"Sleep," Ravik murmurs, one indigo arm draped with careful weight across my waist. "We maintain watch in shifts."
"Wake me for second watch," I insist, unwilling to be excluded from shared responsibility despite their protective instincts.
His hesitation feels physical before he concedes with slight nod against my hair. "As you wish."
Zephyr's hand finds mine in the narrow space between our bodies, turquoise eyes reflecting firelight as they meet mine. "Rest. Absorb the Codex's knowledge through dreams. Thesubconscious often integrates complex magical concepts more effectively than waking mind."
The suggestion makes sense, yet sleep feels like betrayal of Thane's memory, like abandonment of the urgent mission to restore him. As if sensing this conflict, Ravik's arm tightens slightly around my waist.
"He would want you at full strength," he reminds me, voice rough with his own exhaustion. "Rest honors his sacrifice more than pointless vigil."
