I pull the Grimoire from my bag and stare at it for a moment. It’s hard to imagine this dusty book cost me more than my truck, but if it keeps her safe. If it gives me even a fraction of a chance to speak without breaking her...
Then every penny was worth it.
Corpus Falsum glints in the firelight as if mocking me.
A false body.
A hollow vessel.
A borrowed shape.
I hate it. I hate him. But wanting forever... wanting her... has never been a choice.
If his gods made the bond the only door to eternity, then I’ll walk through whatever doorway they leave open—even if it means wearing the monster’s skin.
I turn to the first passage marked in black ink.
Excerpt: Page 7
“Non sufficit imitari formam. Exude te prius.”
(It is not enough to imitate the form. First, remove yourself.)
I let out a shaky laugh.
If only this spell knew how easy that part was. There’s not much of me left to remove.
Not after years of being told my existence took up too much space, not after feeling like I’ve lost her once already.
If hollowing myself out is what it takes to keep her this time...
Then I'll gut every part of myself that gets in the way.
Excerpt: Page 12- Vassari Flamma
“Exurit ad tempus sigillum animæ, et fit vas vacuum.”
(Temporarily burns away the soul’s signature, and becomes a hollow vessel.)
“Tange ossa. Some cutem. Arde.”
(Touch the bones. Take the skin. Burn.)
Good—let it burn. Let it scrape me clean.
“... Hoc vas repletur forma mutuata, si rite conditae fuerint: essentia, nomen, vel sigillum destinati.”
(This vessel may be filled with a borrowed form, if the rites are fulfilled: essence, name, or the mark of the intended.)
“Effundit ardorem, visiones falsas, memoriæ turbationem, et identitatis lapsum, si ligamen animarum adsit.”
(It unleashes heat, false visions, memory distortion, and identity slippage, if a soul-bond is present.)
“Corpus verum ligatum est in nomine. Frange nomen, et forma sequitur.”
(The body is bound by name. Break the name, and the shape will follow.)
I close the book.
