Page 60 of Feral Gods

ZAPHYR

O bsidian Falls earns its name through stark majesty—volcanic glass cliffs rising seven hundred feet from the valley floor, their polished black surfaces reflecting crimson sunset as we approach the ritual site.

Water cascades over these ebony precipices, steam rising where the frigid torrent meets thermal pools below.

Fire, water, earth, and air—the elemental convergence required for resurrection magic manifests here with rare perfection.

"The energy confluence exceeds theoretical parameters," I observe, measuring magical resonance with scholarly precision despite the emotion tightening my chest. "Optimal conditions for trans-dimensional working."

Ravik nods, amber eyes scanning our surroundings with tactical assessment that never fully relaxes, even here in this remote corner of Causadurn Ridge.

His transformed indigo form stands silhouetted against the darkening sky, wings mantled slightly against the wind that whips through the narrow valley.

"Defensible," he confirms, completing our complementary evaluation. "Single approach path, multiple high-ground vantage points. Natural concealment from aerial observation." His gaze softens marginally as it falls on Kaia. "How do you fare?"

She stands at the edge of the largest thermal pool, steam wreathing her small form like spectral embrace.

The pouch containing Thane's essence hangs open in her hands, copper particles catching dying sunlight in mesmerizing patterns.

Four days of arduous travel have left visible marks—shadows beneath her eyes, new tension in her shoulders—yet her determination burns undiminished.

"The convergence responds to his essence," she answers, wonder threading through exhaustion in her voice. "Feel it?"

I extend my magical senses beyond conventional perception, detecting what her naturally attuned abilities recognize instinctively. The energy patterns surrounding Thane's remains pulse in synchronization with the elemental confluence, creating harmonics that transcend theoretical possibility.

"Extraordinary," I acknowledge, scholarly detachment failing to mask genuine awe. "The resonance suggests pre-existing connection to this specific location. As if..."

"As if he was always meant to return here," Kaia finishes, insight bridging our different perspectives as it often does. "The Codex indicated elemental affinity would guide our choice, but this exceeds guided selection. This is recognition."

Ravik approaches, practical concerns tempering our academic fascination. "Daylight fades. If the ritual requires Blood Moon alignment, we have approximately three hours for preparation."

He's right, of course. The twin moons rise late tonight, their conjunction with the Warrior's Constellation creating the celestial alignment necessary for our working. A convergence that occurs once every seventy-three years—either cosmic fortune or destiny guiding our timing.

"We should establish the ritual space immediately," I agree, withdrawing preliminary sketches from my satchel. The diagrams, transcribed from knowledge Kaia extracted from the Codex, depict complex magical geometries that must be precisely replicated in physical space.

While Ravik secures our perimeter with both conventional and magical safeguards, Kaia and I prepare the ritual site at the thermal pool's edge.

Using volcanic sand mixed with specific mineral components carried from our sanctuary, we create intricate patterns across the smooth stone—concentric circles bisected by triangular formations that represent the boundaries between existence states.

"The innermost triangle represents the liminal space," I explain as we work, scholarly instinct to categorize and explain asserting itself even now. "Where life and non-life intersect, allowing transition between states."

Kaia nods, fingers tracing sacred symbols with intuitive precision that puts my calculated measurements to shame. "And we three will form the outer triangle, channeling combined energy to create stable pathway for Thane's essence to follow."

"Precisely. The confluence provides necessary power, our combined magical signatures establish direction, and the Blood Moon alignment creates temporal window for transition.

" My hands move automatically, positioning crystalline focus points at precise intervals around the ritual space. "In theory, perfectly balanced system."

"In theory," she repeats, the simple phrase carrying weights of hope and fear in equal measure.

As final preparations near completion, Ravik returns from establishing our defensive perimeter. His expression reveals nothing, yet the slight tension in his powerful frame suggests concerns he chooses not to voice.

"Perimeter secure?" I inquire, reading the unspoken in his posture.

"Adequately," he responds, characteristic economy with words revealing more than verbose explanation would. "No immediate threats detected, but..."

"But your instincts suggest caution," Kaia finishes, knowing him as well as I do after our shared journey.

He inclines his head slightly, confirmation without elaboration. "The ritual remains priority. My concerns may simply reflect commander's paranoia."

This admission—acknowledging potential overreaction rather than insisting on absolute certainty—represents profound evolution from the rigid commander who first awakened from stone sleep.

Transformation beyond physical form, beyond magical restructuring, into emotional territory once forbidden to all of us.

"We proceed as planned," Kaia decides, leadership sitting naturally upon her shoulders where once she carried only the burdens of slavery and survival.

"But maintain heightened awareness during the working.

The Codex warns that resurrection magic creates dimensional distortions that might attract. .. attention."

"Attention from what precisely?" Ravik inquires, tactical mind immediately assessing potential threats.

I hesitate before answering, weighing scholarly accuracy against practical necessity. "Theoretical entities that exist between conventional reality states. Liminal beings attracted to transitional energies."

"Demons," Kaia translates bluntly, her growing magical knowledge bridging scholarly abstraction and practical application. "Or something close enough that the distinction matters little."

Ravik's wings flare slightly, battle-readiness instinctive even in his transformed state. "Additional variable to monitor. Proceed with preparations."

As twilight deepens toward true night, we complete final arrangements for the ritual.

The thermal pool steams more vigorously as darkness falls, its mineral-rich waters glowing faintly with bioluminescent organisms that thrive in its heated depths.

This natural illumination combines with carefully placed mage-lights to reveal our ritual space in eerie blue-white radiance.

"The first moon rises," Kaia announces, dark eyes tracking the larger of Protheka's twin satellites as it crests the eastern ridge.

Its surface appears rust-colored tonight, reflecting solar light through Protheka's atmospheric particulates at this specific angle—the Blood Moon of ancient prophecy and magical significance.

The second, smaller moon will follow within the hour, creating the conjunction we require for our working. Time grows short, yet much remains to be established before we can begin the actual resurrection sequence.

"We should prepare ourselves," I suggest, retrieving three crystal vials from my satchel.

Each contains carefully measured potion—my own creation, combining scholarly knowledge with ingredients gathered during our journey.

"This will help stabilize our consciousness during partial transition state. "

Kaia accepts her vial without hesitation, trust replacing the wariness that once characterized her responses to magical interventions. Ravik examines his briefly before nodding acceptance.

"Effects?" he inquires, ever practical.

"Enhanced perception across dimensional boundaries, temporary immunity to disorientation effects common in liminal spaces, and moderate protection against consciousness fragmentation.

" I uncork my own vial, the liquid within shimmering with subtle iridescence.

"Duration approximately four hours—sufficient for our purposes unless complications arise. "

"And if complications do arise?" Kaia asks, the question requiring answer despite how it tightens anxiety's grip.

"Then we improvise," I reply honestly. "No theoretical model perfectly encompasses resurrection magic's complexities. The Codex provides framework, but actualizing trans-dimensional transition remains partly intuitive process."

Rather than increasing her concern, this admission appears to steady her. "Good thing intuition happens to be my specialty," she says with ghost of smile that momentarily illuminates exhaustion-shadowed features.

In synchronized motion, we consume the stabilizing potions.

The effect manifests immediately—enhanced awareness of energy patterns previously at perception's periphery, sharper definition of magical currents flowing through our ritual space, heightened sensitivity to the pulse emanating from Thane's preserved essence.

"By the ancients," Ravik murmurs, amber eyes wide as enhanced perception reveals magical complexities normally invisible even to transformed senses. "The convergence patterns..."

"Magnificent, aren't they?" I acknowledge, scholarly appreciation momentarily overshadowing our dire purpose. "Natural harmonic resonance creating self-sustaining energy matrix perfectly suited to trans-dimensional working."

"It's more than that," Kaia interjects, her natural magical sensitivity amplified by the potion to levels that exceed even my scholarly understanding. "The patterns aren't just compatible with our purpose—they're responding to it. Anticipating. Almost as if..."