"The surge was real."
"The surge was the power demanding honesty!" She pressed a hand to her chest, where the patterns blazed brightest. "I've spent my entire life maintaining control, building walls to keep myself safe. And then you came along and smashed through every defense I had."
Her voice broke, tears streaming down her face.
"I was terrified of wanting something I couldn't plan or manage. So I kept telling myself this was temporary, that I didn't have to choose." She met my eyes. "But the power knew better. It forced me to confront what I really wanted."
"Charlie..."
"I choose you, Malrik." Her voice rang through the chamber with absolute certainty. "I choose this bond. I choose us. Not because some accident forced it on me, but because I want you. Fully, consciously, with complete understanding of what it means."
Her words knocked me off balance.
And then the power answered.
It started as a tremor, a vibration in the air, a pulse through the stone beneath my knees. I felt something shift, unlock, like a door that had been jammed suddenly swinging open.
The wisps of smoke that had been dissipating suddenly reversed course, flowing back toward me. The guttered flames reignited. The shadows that had vanished began to coalesce.
"What..." I gasped, staring at my hands as light began to bloom beneath my skin.
"Your power," Charlie breathed, her eyes wide. "It's coming back."
The ritual circle blazed to life, every symbol flaring with brilliant light. The candles erupted into pillars of flame. And the power I'd sacrificed, torn away piece by agonizing piece, came rushing back in a torrent.
It swirled through the chamber like a storm, light and shadow dancing together, creating a vortex of energy that centered on both of us. Wind whipped through the catacombs, extinguishing and reigniting candles, sending loose pages of ancient texts swirling through the air.
Charlie's hair streamed around her face, the patterns on her skin burning bright as stars. She didn't flinch, didn't step back. She simply stood there, anchoring herself against the maelstrom, her eyes locked on mine.
The power recognized her choice. And it responded.
I felt it flowing back into me, not just returning, but transforming. The essence I'd surrendered was no longer solely mine. It had touched Charlie, merged with her, and now it carried her mark as well. Our powers intertwined, spiraling together in a sacred dance.
The pain of the ritual reversed, agony giving way to a rush of wholeness, of completion. Strength flooded back into my limbs. The holes in my being sealed themselves. The diminishment vanished as if it had never been.
No, not as if it had never been. I could feel the difference. The power was not the same. Enhanced. Because it was no longer just mine.
It was ours.
The vortex reached its crescendo, light blazing so bright I had to shield my eyes. Charlie did the same, raising one arm against the brilliance. The symbols on the floor pulsed once, twice, three times, and then the energy settled.
The wind died. The flames steadied. The light dimmed to a gentle glow that emanated from both our skins in perfect synchronization.
Silence filled the chamber.
I looked down at my hands. The patterns that had been fading were now vibrant again, pulsing in rhythm with my heartbeat.But they looked different. More intricate, more complete. And when I glanced at Charlie, I saw the same patterns on her skin, perfectly matched to mine.
"It worked," she whispered, her voice filled with awe. "Your power... it came back."
"Our power," I corrected, finally understanding. "The bond doesn't divide it. It shares it."
Through our connection, I felt her emotions. Relief, joy, wonder, and underneath it all, absolute certainty. She had chosen this. Chosen me. And the power had responded by completing what should have been from the beginning.
A soft clearing of a throat from the tunnel entrance made us both turn. Paz stood there, slightly disheveled from the wind, his spectacles askew. He held a small leather journal in one hand and a pen in the other.
As we watched, he calmly adjusted his spectacles, opened the journal, and made a careful notation.
"Mutual consent," he murmured to himself as he wrote. "Confirmed. Power restoration: complete. Soul bond: stable." He paused, then added, "Dramatically so."
