Point

as lost all meaning in the flickering candlelight, my world reduced to the fragile pages before me. My back

en, I

sheet, wedged between a stack of forgotten spells. The parchment is brittle, its edges frayed

g as I scan the inked symbols and line

the letters, the way certain symbols are drawn, the unmistakabl

ions th

spell beside the one I stole from Zachary. My hands tremble slightly as I smooth

require a celestial event, the energy drawn from the heavens to f

his one, doesn'

essence. The one thing that made the original spell so

er details. Could this be the loophole I've been searching for?

but this version redirects the energy in a different way. Instead of binding itself to the life force of th

s r

unt

could

lean back, running a hand through m

have to d

ill come, and when it

*

is the

lipse has begun, the moon bathed in an eerie red glow, casting long, shifting shadows across the cave walls. This is

cks demanding my help. No more being tang

nergy in the air thickens. Symbols are drawn in careful, precise strokes across the cold stone floor, lines of power converging where I now

steadying bre

raw energy as the spell takes hold. The air crackles around me, the candles flaring higher, their light casting shifting shad

s apex, the eclipse at it

pain shoots through my palm, and I cry out, my fingers for

erything

he cave, suffocati

embers in the dim candlelight. She is unlike anything I have ever seen, beautiful and terrible, ancient beyond comprehen

r. My heart pounds in my chest, my breath coming in shallow gasps. Every f

suddenly as she ap

s silent. The candles flicker

ice cold as I cautiously reach down and pick it up. I clutch it

curse. But deep in my gut, I know,

*

e mo

nths, and I am no close

e candle beside me has burned low, wax pooling around its base, a reminder of just how long I've been at this. I drag my eyes a

t's u

agments of magic lost to time. I've read through it twice now, and yet I keep flippi

pounds from hours of reading, my fingers are stiff from trac

left behind. I've memorized their spells, studied their rituals, even visited t

ls me who or wha

ains what I reall

r why I can still feel something wr

ion bubbling in my chest. I can't keep

n, it h

d in this place? What if it's

with generations of magical knowledge. My ancestors were powerful witches, collectors of lost spells and forgott

ers anywhere, the

ifying in my mind. I have wasted eno

k and dousing the candles. The cave plunges into darkness, but I don't hesitate.

nds, and the

nto focus. My cottage stands before me, untouched, exactly as I left it. The wooden porch crea

ings inward, revealing the dim, dust laced air of my home. It's quiet, too qui

the cold that has settled into my bones. I don't pause, I move with purpos

e. My fingers tremble slightly as I slide it into the lock. A quick turn, a sharp click, and th

s as I flip through the pages, my eyes scanning each carefully inked spell, each carefully preserve

texts, fingers tracing symbols, eyes flicking

th

ithers dow

urbance in the stillness. The hairs on the back of my neck s

not a

my feet, whirling around just as

ath ca

n hair is tousled from the wind, his piercing green eyes locked onto mine with an intensity that makes my pulse stutter. Broad s

now

wn wolf from

ho tried

e I ra

ch other in tense silence, his gaze burning into

fou

7