Would she still look at me the same, if she knew what I’d done to see her again?
Step III.
For nine moons the shadows must be fed through the vessel so that they may weave soul to flesh.
They hunger not for flesh or flame, but for emotion drawn through the Shadow Lord himself—love, agony, and suffering—the path from devotion to ruin.
If the offerings are made in measure, the lost soul will take its vessel. If he falters, the shadows will feed upon him instead.
The parchment darkened, symbols writhing as though alive. The next words bled through in silver fire.
Before the binding, the blood-runes must be drawn.
The Rune of Passage, the Rune of Containment, the Rune of Memory, and the Rune of Debt.
Etch them in blood mixed with ground hematite. Let the blade taste your skin. The shadows cannot weave without sacrifice.
I could almost feel the edge pressing into flesh—mine, hers, anyone’s. My hands twitched. The smell of iron lingered in the air, though I hadn’t bled yet.
Then came the chant, blooming across the page like breath made visible?—
“Lost to the void, hear my call.
“By shadow’s grace and mortal fall, cross the veil, obey this plea—return and breathe, be bound to me.”
The sound of my voice filled the silence, hoarse and trembling.
Amara didn’t stir. The shadows did.
Love. Agony. Suffering.
The same three torments she had freed me from—and now the price to bring her back.
I would give them all.
Step IV.
When the child draws first breath, the lost soul lives anew—renewed, unremembering, and whole.
If the feeding was flawless, the child will grow untouched by shadow.
If the rite faltered, the child shall be born hollow, reaching for a past it cannot name.
But the tome’s ink did not stop there. New lines crawled across the parchment as if written in living shadow.
Know this—the one who binds cannot sever the tether.
When the soul returns, it will carry a part of the binder within it, and he will feel its heartbeat as his own.
Every joy, every fear, every pain—shared across the void until death claims him, or the shadows take pity and unmake the bond.
My hand trembled above the page.
To bring her back was to give up peace forever—to feel her laughter and her suffering inside me until I broke.
It was love eternal, twisted into punishment.
And still, I knew I would do it.
