Page 27 of Furever Bound
"But the risk to Sera would be astronomical, and we don't have enough understanding of her abilities to guarantee successful energy channeling."
"But it is theoretically possible?" Varric pressed with the kind of careful attention that suggested he was evaluating all potential solutions regardless of personal cost.
"Theoretically," Maddox admitted with deep reluctance. "But the failure rate for untrained psychic individuals attempting folklore transformation is approximately eighty percent. And failure typically results in the catalyst being absorbed into the manifestation permanently."
The clinical statistics didn't convey the horror of what absorption actually meant—consciousness trapped within a hostile entity, identity dissolved into manifestation energy, existence reduced to fuel for the very thing they'd tried to destroy.
"So we need alternative solutions," Maeve said with practical finality. "Preferably ones that don't involve sacrificing community members to untested folklore theories."
"Agreed," Varric decided. "Continue research into transformation methods, but focus on approaches that don't require direct catalyst involvement. We have approximately four days until Halloween, when manifestation activity traditionally peaks."
"Four days until the community's most vulnerable period coincides with peak attention on Sera's viral content," Emmett added grimly. "Whatever we're going to do, it needs to happen before then."
As the meeting dispersed, Maddox realized that protecting Sera meant more than just defending her from federal investigators or manifestation threats. It meant finding solutions that didn't require her to sacrifice herself for a community she'd barely begun to understand, even if she was willing to make that sacrifice.
21
SERA
The afternoon light slanted through Maddox's study windows with the golden quality that only came with late October, casting warm shadows across the floor where Sera sat surrounded by folklore texts and trying to process the reality of her new life. The temperature had dropped another ten degrees since morning, and she could smell woodsmoke from chimneys throughout Hollow Oak as residents prepared for what promised to be an unusually cold Halloween.
"Find anything interesting?" Maddox asked, returning from his Council meeting with the kind of tension in his shoulders that suggested the news hadn't been entirely positive.
"Disturbing might be a better word," she replied, gesturing to the historical accounts spread around her. "I've been reading about previous manifestation incidents, and the pattern is... not encouraging."
She'd spent the past three hours diving into records that painted a picture of folklore manifestations growing progressively stronger and more dangerous until they either consumed their catalysts entirely or were contained through methods that usually involved significant community casualties.
"The 1847 incident ended with the death of the woman whose grief triggered the manifestation," she continued, studying his face for reactions. "The 1923 case required the combined efforts of six trained witches and still resulted in two permanent disappearances. And 1956..."
"1956 was resolved through narrative restructuring," Maddox said, sitting down across from her. "Successfully, with minimal casualties."
"After the catalyst voluntarily merged with the manifestation to redirect its purpose from destruction to protection," she finished, having read that particular account three times to make sure she understood correctly. "She didn't die, but she didn't remain human either."
The implications hung between them like a challenge, and she watched his jaw tighten as he processed what she'd discovered in his absence.
"Sera," he began with the careful tone he used when he was about to say something she wouldn't want to hear.
"You're going to tell me not to consider it," she interrupted, closing the book with deliberate finality. "You're going to explain why transformation methods that require catalyst involvement are too dangerous to attempt."
"Because they are too dangerous," he said, his shifter instincts leaking into his voice despite obvious efforts to remain diplomatically neutral. "Because the failure rate is catastrophic, and because losing you isn't an acceptable solution to any problem."
"Even if losing me saves an entire community?" she asked, testing his reaction to scenarios she'd been contemplating all afternoon.
"Especially then," he replied without hesitation. "Sera, you've been part of this community for barely a week. You don't owe usyour life or your humanity to fix a crisis that existed long before you arrived."
"But I do owe you honesty about my abilities," she said, studying his face for signs of the reaction she was about to provoke. "And the truth is, I can feel Grimjaw when night falls. Not just awareness that it's hunting—actual connection to its energy, its purpose, its growing strength."
His sharp intake of breath suggested this was new information that confirmed his worst fears about her level of connection to the manifestation.
"Since when?" he asked, his scholarly instincts warring with protective panic.
"Since last night," she admitted. "When it was stalking around the inn, when I used the LED light to drive it back—I could sense what it was thinking, what it wanted. It wasn't just hunting randomly. It was specifically looking for me."
"Because you're its catalyst," Maddox said grimly. "The connection between manifestation and originator always strengthens as the entity becomes more substantial."
"Which means I might be the only person who can actually communicate with it," she pointed out with the kind of logical problem-solving reserved for business. "The only one who could potentially guide transformation rather than just hoping containment methods work."
"Or the only person it can absorb most efficiently," he countered, his protective instincts clearly warring with intellectual honesty about their tactical situation.
