Page 53 of Crossing Between

I left Varon's mansion around sunset, my mind racing with possibilities. The drive to my grandfather's house was familiar; I'd made this journey countless times before, but tonight felt different. More significant.

The small traditional Japanese house sat nestled between towering oaks. As I pulled into the gravel driveway, the porch light flickered on, and I could see my grandfather's silhouette through the paper screens of the front door.

He opened the door before I could knock, his weathered face creasing into a slight smile. "You look troubled, grandson."

"Hello, Ojiisan," I bowed slightly, following him inside. The house smelled of green tea and sandalwood incense, scents that instantly transported me back to my childhood.

My grandfather moved with deliberate grace despite his age, leading me to the low table in his tea room. The tatami mats were soft beneath my knees as I knelt, watching him prepare tea with practiced movements.

"You've come about the Red String," he stated rather than asked, pouring the steaming liquid into delicate cups.

I shouldn't have been surprised. My grandfather had always possessed an uncanny ability to read situations. "Yes. I need to know everything about the binding ceremony."

He took a long sip of his tea, his dark eyes studying me over the rim of the cup. Though his face remained impassive, I could see the calculating look in his gaze. "This is about the Soulbinder girl."

Again, not a question. I nodded, wrapping my hands around the warm cup. He had the sight like I did, but more so.

"Hmm." He set his cup down with a soft click. Rising slowly, he disappeared into another room, returning moments later with an ancient-looking scroll and a modern notebook. "Take notes, grandson. This is important."

For the next hour, he detailed the ceremony with meticulous precision.

My hand moved rapidly across the pages as he spoke, documenting every crucial detail.

The preparation of the ritual space, the emotional declarations, the exchange of blood, and the channeling of magic.

Each phase is more complex and dangerous than the last.

"The physical union at the end," his voice matter-of-fact, "is not merely for pleasure. It completes the magical circuit, binding all participants together permanently."

I felt my cheeks warm slightly, but kept writing. When I finished, I had several pages of detailed notes.

"Thank you, Ojiisan," I carefully closed the notebook.

He reached across the table, placing his hand over mine. His grip was still strong despite his age. "Kenji," his voice was softer now, touched with rare emotion, "this ritual, it will change you. All of you. The bonds formed cannot be broken, not even by death. Are you certain?"

I met his gaze steadily. "Yes."

He nodded once, squeezing my hand before letting go. "Then may the gods guide your path."

I bowed deeply, gathering my notes and rising to leave.

At the door, I turned back one last time.

My grandfather stood in the doorway, his small frame backlit by the warm light from inside.

For a moment, I saw him as he was in my childhood, the strong, quiet presence that had guided me through so many difficult times.

"I love you, Ojiisan."

His eyes crinkled at the corners, the closest he usually came to a full smile. "Go. Your destiny awaits."

I pulled into the long, winding driveway of Varon's mansion around 3 AM, the weight of my grandfather's knowledge now securely transferred into my notebook. My headlights illuminated the imposing structure ahead, its windows glowing with warm light despite the ungodly hour. They were still awake.

Cutting the engine, I sat in silence for a moment, collecting my thoughts. The enormity of what we were about to attempt pressed down on me. A binding ritual that would permanently connect four supernatural beings. One of them was a previously unknown Soulbinder.

As I approached the front door, I caught a whiff of coffee and something sweet. Someone was stress baking. Probably Zoey.

The moment I stepped inside, I heard their voices coming from the kitchen, soft murmurs punctuated by the occasional clink of cups against saucers. Following the sounds and scents, I made my way through the grand foyer.

"Look what the oni dragged in," Varon drawled as I entered the kitchen, his eyes assessing me over the rim of his coffee mug. Despite his casual tone, the tension in his shoulders betrayed his concern.

Elias sat across from him, long blonde hair pulled back in a loose braid, fingers absently tracing patterns on the marble countertop. Zoey stood by the oven, pulling out chocolate chip cookies, her hair messily piled on top of her head, wearing one of Varon's shirts that hung to mid-thigh.

The domestic scene made something tighten in my chest.

"You all waited up," I stated the obvious, touched despite myself.

"Of course we did, dumbass," Elias replied without heat.

Zoey immediately bustled over, setting a plate of warm cookies in front of me along with a steaming mug of coffee, exactly how I liked it, black with two sugars. "Are you okay? Did you get what you needed?"

I nodded, taking a grateful sip. "And then some."

"Quilith went back to their place to rest," Elias informed me, stretching his long arms above his head.

I moved toward Zoey, who had returned to her spot by the counter. Without thinking, I leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head, inhaling the sweet scent of her shampoo, something fruity and light. "Thank you for waiting up."

She blushed slightly but leaned into my touch. The casual intimacy felt right, natural, as if we'd been doing this for years instead of days.

"So?" Varon prompted, his patience clearly wearing thin. "What did you find out?"

I reached into my backpack and pulled out the notebook, now filled with my grandfather's knowledge. Taking a deep breath, I opened it to the first page and began.

"The Red String Ritual is ancient, predating most recorded magical history," I explained, my voice slipping into the formal cadence my grandfather had used. "It was originally performed between two beings, but can accommodate up to six participants if their magical signatures are compatible."

I flipped to the next page, where I'd sketched the ritual circle based on my grandfather's descriptions .

"We'll need to prepare a sacred space. Somewhere private and securely warded. The ritual requires a circle drawn in a mixture of cinnamon, ground moonstone, and the blood of all participants."

Varon leaned forward, his eyes intense as he studied my drawings. "Blood magic. Powerful but dangerous."

"All the best magic is," I gave a humorless smile. "Inside the circle, we'll need to place five candles. One for each of the elements plus spirit. Each will be infused with specific herbs corresponding to our individual magical signatures."

My finger traced the complex patterns I'd drawn. "Once the circle is activated, we must each declare our intentions and what we offer to the binding. These declarations must be honest and complete, the magic will reject false promises."

I flipped another page, revealing more detailed instructions. "Then comes the exchange of blood. Each of us will make a small cut on our left palm, allowing the blood to flow into a shared chalice containing wine, honey, and ground rose quartz."

Zoey's eyes widened slightly, but she remained silent, listening intently.

"After we offer the blood," my voice grew softer as I approached the most intimate part, "the ritual enters its final phase. We, um, we form a physical connection."

Elias snorted. "You mean we fuck."

I shot him a look. "It's more than that.

The physical union completes the magical circuit, binding our energies permanently.

" I cleared my throat, suddenly finding it difficult to meet Zoey's eyes.

"According to my grandfather, the, uh, culmination needs to happen simultaneously for the strongest bond. "

Zoey's cheeks had turned bright red, her fingers nervously playing with the hem of her borrowed shirt.

I continued, explaining the final steps of the ritual, how our magical energies would merge, how Zoey's Soulbinder abilities would be the anchor that held us all together, how the bond would manifest physically as the red string visible only to those involved.

When I finished, the kitchen was quiet save for the soft ticking of the ornate wall clock. I closed my notebook, finally looking up to meet their gazes.

"Once completed," I added softly, "the bond is permanent. We'll be connected in ways most magical beings never experience. We'll sense each other's emotions, know when the others are in danger. In extreme situations, we may even be able to draw on each other's powers."

Another beat of silence passed before Zoey finally spoke, her voice small but steady.

"We're all going to do this? Are you all sure?" She looked around at each of us, vulnerability written plainly across her features. "This is, well, it's forever. You'll be tied to me forever."

Varon moved with that inhuman speed of his, suddenly right beside her. His fingers gently tilted her chin up, and he leaned down, capturing her lips in a deep, passionate kiss that left no room for doubt. When he finally pulled back, his eyes had darkened to storm clouds.

"We're sure," his reply was a low rumble. "I've lived for centuries, little one. Forever with you sounds like a gift, not a burden."

Zoey looked dazed, her lips slightly parted as she blinked up at him. The blush that had started to fade returned full force, spreading down her neck and disappearing beneath the collar of her shirt.

Elias cleared his throat, drawing her attention. "It'll take a few days to get everything ready," his eyes were soft as they rested on Zoey. "Some of the ingredients are rare, and the ritual needs to be performed during the new moon for maximum power."