Page 85 of Feral Gods
"Indeed." I cover her hand with mine, reluctant to break the connection despite practical necessities. "Though there's one more discovery I should share first."
"Something important?"
"Potentially vital." I guide her to a pedestal I'd noted earlier, positioned slightly apart from the others. Its inscription glows with particular intensity, as if demanding attention. "Thisreferences a specific application of resurrection magic—one with immediate relevance to our situation."
"Meaning?"
"It describes a method for preserving essence at the moment of violent death—capturing the life force before it disperses completely." I meet her gaze directly, ensuring she understands the significance. "Should any of us fall in the coming conflict, this magic offers a possibility of restoration, provided certain conditions are met."
Her eyes widen, hope and caution warring in her expression. "What conditions?"
"The preservation spell must be cast within moments of death. The wildspont energy must be focused through blood of the caster's line. And—" I hesitate, weighing whether to share the final requirement.
"And?" she prompts.
"And the one performing the restoration must be bound to the fallen through genuine soul-connection—what ancient texts call 'kithera'."
"Love," she translates simply.
I nod, surprised by her immediate understanding of a concept that took me decades of scholarly study to grasp. "In its most essential, uncompromising form, yes."
She absorbs this information with characteristic thoughtfulness, her gaze returning to the frozen gargoyle warriors surrounding us. "Could this magic help them too?"
"Their situation differs from the preservation spell I described. Their essence remains bound but transformed, requiring different approaches." I brush a strand of dark hair from her face, the gesture feeling both foreign and natural to my scholarly nature. "One challenge at a time, perhaps?"
A tired smile acknowledges the gentle rebuke. "Fair point. Rest first, resurrect armies later."
As we move to join Ravik and Thane, who have established a defensible position near the chamber's entrance, I feel the weight of forbidden knowledge settling over me. The resurrection magic this chamber contains violates fundamental magical principles I once considered inviolable—the permanent separation of life and death, the irreversibility of time's passage, the finality of sacrifice.
Yet I find my scholarly objections weakening in the face of practical application. If this knowledge could save Kaia, or Ravik, or Thane in the conflict to come, would I hesitate to use it? The answer forms with immediate clarity: no. Not for a moment would principle outweigh their survival.
When did these three become more valuable to me than knowledge itself? When did preservation of life supersede preservation of magical theory? I cannot pinpoint the transformation's beginning, only acknowledge its completion.
As Kaia settles beside me in our makeshift camp, her head resting trustingly against my shoulder, I silently commit the resurrection ritual to memory—every glyph, every intonation, every material component. Knowledge I would once have sealed away as too dangerous for practical application, I now clutch like a talisman against future loss.
Some transformations occur gradually, through steady erosion of old certainties by new experiences. Others happen in a single moment of clarity, like crystallization in a supersaturated solution. My willingness to employ forbidden magic to protect those I love represents both—the culmination of gradual change triggered by sudden crisis.
I wrap a protective wing around Kaia's sleeping form, my gaze moving between her peaceful face and the ancient power pulsing in the crystal pool. The scholar I once was would have prioritized understanding this chamber's secrets above all else—would have spent decades cataloging inscriptions and analyzingmagical properties while the world continued its chaotic dance above.
The being I've become understands that knowledge without application is hollow, that theory without practical purpose serves no one. I will unravel this chamber's mysteries not for scholarly prestige but for immediate survival—for the protection of the fragile, extraordinary human sleeping beside me and the transformed warriors who've become my family.
As sleep claims me despite my desire to continue researching, one certainty crystallizes in my fading consciousness: whatever comes, whatever sacrifices still await, I will use every fragment of knowledge at my disposal to ensure our survival. Even if that means wielding magic forbidden by every scholarly tradition I once revered.
Some principles, after all, matter more than others. Some connections transcend even the boundary between life and death.
And some knowledge, forbidden or not, becomes worth any price when those you love hang in the balance.
21
KAIA
The Heart Chamber pulses with azure light, steady as a heartbeat as I study the stone warriors lining its crystalline walls. So many of them—hundreds, perhaps thousands—each frozen in the moment of transformation, expressions of defiance and pain etched permanently on their faces. Brothers and sisters to my gargoyles, bound by the same cruel magic, awaiting a liberation I might provide.
If I survive the next few hours.
Zephyr sleeps nearby, his newly transformed body curled protectively around the space where I rested before slipping away to examine the chamber more thoroughly. His chest rises and falls with the rhythm of true breath—one of many changes wrought by the wildspont energy. No longer fully gargoyle nor dark elf, but something beautiful in between. His slate-blue skin gleams in the chamber's light, the sharp angles of his face softened just enough to reveal the scholar beneath the warrior. Even in slumber, one hand reaches toward where I should be, seeking connection.
Guilt pricks at my conscience for leaving him, but I need this moment alone with my thoughts. The revelations of the past dayswirl through my mind like autumn leaves caught in a whirlwind—my connection to Morwen, the resurrection magic contained in this chamber, the army of stone that could potentially answer to my blood.
