Page 81 of Feral Gods
"Not us—not specifically. Rather, it references 'stone guardians bound by blood-curse' and warns that wildspont energy directed through such beings could potentially break the binding completely." My breath catches as I decipher the next section. "Kaia, this suggests your blood—purna blood—combined with wildspont energy could potentially awaken any gargoyle under similar curse constraints."
Her expression shifts from interest to alarm. "You mean I could break the curse for others like you? Beyond just you three?"
"Theoretically." I rise, mind already calculating implications. "Though this text suggests it would require direct blood contact with each individual gargoyle, plus exposure to focused wildspont energy."
"Are there others? Other gargoyles imprisoned as you were?"
The question pierces unexpectedly deep, reminding me of brothers-in-arms lost during that final battle, comrades whose fates remained unknown as stone sleep claimed me. "Possibly. Morwen wasn't the only purna with curse-craft capabilities, and we weren't the only dark elves who defied royal commands during the Height Wars."
Kaia absorbs this information with characteristic thoughtfulness, her innate compassion evident in the softening of her features. "If there are others trapped as you were, we should help them."
"A noble sentiment," I acknowledge, "but one that may explain our enemies' coordinated pursuit." I tap the warning inscription. "If the dark elf monarchy and purna leadership both possess similar ancient knowledge, they would recognize the potential threat you represent."
"Me? I'm just one woman."
"One woman with the bloodline power to potentially awaken an army of gargoyles—warriors who once served dark elf kingdoms but might now hold grievances similar to our own." I meet her gaze directly. "From King Kres's perspective, you're not merely a runaway slave but an existential threat to his reign."
She finally understands, followed quickly by a complexity of emotions—fear, determination, and something harder to define.Perhaps the weight of responsibility suddenly placed on her shoulders.
"So they're not just hunting me for my personal value," she concludes. "They're trying to prevent a potential revolution."
"Precisely." I place a comforting hand on her shoulder, careful to keep my touch light despite the protective instinct surging through me. "Your significance extends far beyond our small sanctuary, Kaia. You represent possibility—change—in a world where power structures have remained unchallenged for centuries."
Before she can respond, another tremor shakes the chamber—the strongest yet. Dust and small stones shower from the ceiling, forcing us to shield our eyes. Through our magical link, I sense Ravik's silent signal:Time grows short. Proceed with activation.
"We must prepare," I tell Kaia, returning focus to our immediate task. "Ravik will activate his nexus point momentarily, and we must synchronize perfectly."
She nods, determination replacing philosophical contemplation. "What do I do?"
"Place your hands here and here," I instruct, indicating two smooth patches on the obelisk's surface. "Focus your magical energy as I taught you—not forcing, but allowing it to flow naturally through your center."
Kaia positions herself as directed, eyes closing in concentration as magenta energy begins to shimmer around her fingertips. I position the crystal focus in its designated receptacle, then place my own hands adjacent to hers on the obelisk.
"Now we wait for Ravik's signal before channeling our combined energy," I explain. "The synchronization must be precise to?—"
My instruction halts abruptly as my gaze catches a previously overlooked section of inscription near the obelisk's base. The glyphs here differ subtly from the rest—darker, deeper, as if carved with particular emphasis. As I translate their meaning, cold dread seeps into my stone-like veins.
Blood sacrifice required for full activation. Life energy to guide wildspont currents. Without willing sacrifice, uncontrolled release will consume all within resonance range.
The implications crash through my scholarly detachment like a physical blow. This activation requires more than magical energy—it demands life force. Without that willing sacrifice, the wildspont energy will erupt chaotically, destroying everything—and everyone—in proximity.
Including Kaia.
"What's wrong?" she asks, her perception attuned to my sudden tension.
I hesitate, ethical imperatives warring within me. The tactical part of my mind—the pragmatist shaped by centuries of dark elf politics—calculates that withholding this information increases our chances of successful activation. If Kaia knew the full risk, she might hesitate at the critical moment.
Yet the being I've become since awakening—since knowing her—rebels against such manipulation. She deserves truth, deserves agency in decisions that affect her life.
"There's a component to the activation I missed initially," I admit, the words difficult despite my commitment to honesty. "The wildspont energy requires guidance—a channeling force beyond mere magical direction."
Her eyes narrow slightly, reading between my careful words. "What kind of channeling force?"
"Life energy." I meet her gaze directly, refusing to soften the truth. "A sacrifice to control the wildspont flow and prevent chaotic release."
Understanding dawns in her expression, followed by the determination I've come to expect from her. "My blood. My life force."
"Not necessarily yours," I correct quickly. "The text doesn't specify whose sacrifice is required—only that it must be offered willingly to maintain control of the energy flow."
