Page 61 of Feral Gods
"As if the confluence itself possesses consciousness," I finish, the concept simultaneously fascinating and disturbing from theoretical perspective. "Sentient magical nexus. Documented in ancient texts but never conclusively verified."
"Until now," she confirms, wonder momentarily replacing grief in her expression. "It wants to help. It recognizes Thane somehow."
This unexpected variable both complicates and potentially enhances our working. Sentient confluence could provide stability and direction beyond our individual capabilities—or introduce unpredictable factors impossible to calculate in advance.
The second moon crests the ridge, smaller but brighter than its companion, their combined illumination casting double shadows across our ritual space. The celestial alignment we've awaited begins taking shape, the Warrior's Constellation gradually moving into position between the twin satellites.
"It's time," I announce, moving to my designated position at one point of our triangular formation.
"Ravik, northeastern point for stability and protection.
Kaia, southern point for power channeling and blood connection.
I'll take northwestern point for knowledge integration and transition mapping. "
They move to their positions without question, absolute trust replacing the hierarchy that once defined our interactions.
As we settle into triangular formation around the thermal pool, Kaia places the pouch containing Thane's essence in the ritual circle's exact center, copper particles spilling onto the black stone like metallic constellation.
"The invocation begins with blood offering," I instruct, drawing a small obsidian blade from my robes. "Freely given, precisely measured—three drops each at our individual positions, symbolizing willing sacrifice."
The ancient phrase proves true once more: magic demands symmetry.
What we attempt to reclaim through resurrection magic requires payment in kind—life essence offered to guide life essence returned.
The small blood sacrifice we make now merely foreshadows greater offering the ritual's culmination will demand.
One by one, we pierce our palms, allowing exactly three drops of blood to fall upon the ritual circle at our respective positions.
The effect manifests immediately—magical energy surging through the patterns we've created, the concentric circles illuminating with power that reflects our individual signatures.
Ravik's position glows amber, Kaia's magenta, mine turquoise—three points of colored light forming perfect triangle around Thane's copper remains.
"Now we establish connection," Kaia directs, the Codex's knowledge flowing through her with instinctive grace that makes complex magical theory appear effortless. "Extend your consciousness toward the center while maintaining physical position."
Following her guidance, I project my awareness toward the ritual's center while remaining physically anchored at my designated position.
The sensation resembles mental scrying but with greater immediacy—consciousness partially detaching from physical form to extend into liminal space where Thane's essence currently exists.
Ravik and Kaia do likewise, their projected awareness meeting mine above Thane's remains. Where our consciousnesses intersect, new composite entity forms—not merging of individual identities but temporary cooperative consciousness with attributes drawn from each contributor.
Through this shared awareness, we perceive Thane's essence more completely—not merely physical remains but complex energy signature maintaining cohesion despite lacking conventional form.
Like scattered light reassembling into coherent beam, his essence maintains fundamental pattern that defines his identity.
"He's still here," Kaia's voice whispers through our shared consciousness, wonder and relief intertwining. "Completely intact, just... dispersed."
"Awaiting proper conditions for reconvergence," I confirm, scholarly understanding enhancing emotional perception. "The sacrifice transformed rather than destroyed his fundamental pattern."
"Then let's bring him home," Ravik's presence resonates, determination flowing through our connection.
The celestial alignment reaches perfection overhead—twin moons framing the Warrior's Constellation in precise configuration that occurs once in a generation.
Magical energy surges through our ritual space, the thermal pool's waters glowing with increasing intensity as elemental convergence responds to cosmic timing.
"Begin the summoning sequence," I instruct, the most technically complex portion of the ritual falling naturally to my scholarly expertise. "Maintain triangular formation while I establish transition pathway."
This represents the working's most dangerous component.
To create viable passage between conventional reality and liminal space where Thane's essence currently exists, someone must extend consciousness fully into the boundary state—becoming temporary anchor point between dimensions.
Theoretical knowledge and practical experience make me the logical choice for this hazardous role.
I begin the incantation, ancient words flowing from memory enhanced by the Codex's knowledge transferred through Kaia.
The language predates dark elf civilization, possibly even purna settlement on Protheka—syllables that reshape reality through sound vibration alone, independent of magical energy conventionally understood.
As I speak the summoning sequence, my consciousness extends further beyond physical form, penetrating the boundary between existence states.
The sensation defies conventional description—simultaneously stretching and compressing, expanding and focusing, until perception itself transforms into something transcending normal cognitive frameworks.
Through this altered awareness, I perceive Thane's essence with unprecedented clarity—not copper dust but intricate energy pattern maintaining coherence through sheer force of will.
His identity, his memories, his fundamental self preserved despite catastrophic transformation that destroyed physical form.
"Thane," I call through the liminal space, my consciousness extending like bridge between worlds. "Follow my voice. Follow the connection between us. Return to form, to life, to us."
His essence responds, recognition flickering through dispersed pattern like lightning through storm clouds. Not words but intention, not thought but purpose—awareness without conventional consciousness, identity without physical anchor.
The path between worlds stabilizes as I maintain the incantation, syllables growing increasingly taxing as reality itself resists the manipulation we attempt.
Sweat beads on my physical form despite the ritual circle's protective barriers, my life force draining to maintain trans-dimensional connection.
Through our shared consciousness, I sense Kaia and Ravik supporting my efforts—their energy flowing through our triangular formation to reinforce the pathway I've established.
Without their strength, the connection would collapse immediately, my consciousness trapped in liminal space or scattered like Thane's.
"The pathway stabilizes," I manage through increasingly labored breath. "Initiate reconvergence sequence."
Kaia begins her portion of the ritual—the blood magic that only her direct connection to Morwen's lineage enables.
From her position, magenta energy intensifies, flowing toward Thane's remains in spiraling patterns that resemble double helix structure.
Where this energy contacts the copper particles, molecular reconfiguration begins—basic physical form reconstructing according to pattern preserved in his essential identity.
Ravik's contribution follows—protective energy creating stabilizing framework around the developing reconstruction. His amber power forms lattice-like structure that contains and directs the transformative process, preventing energy dispersion during critical reconvergence phase.
My role intensifies as physical reconstruction progresses—maintaining dimensional pathway while simultaneously transferring precise knowledge of anatomical structure.
Every detail matters—cellular composition, neurological connections, energy pathway configurations—all must match original pattern exactly or the reconvergence fails.
The strain exceeds theoretical predictions. My consciousness stretches dangerously thin between dimensions, life force draining at accelerating rate to maintain necessary connection. Through our shared awareness, Kaia senses my dangerous depletion.
"Zephyr," her voice echoes through our connection, alarm evident despite dimensional distortion. "You're extending too far. The drain exceeds sustainable levels."
"Necessary for complete pattern transfer," I respond, pushing consciousness even further into liminal space where Thane's essence now moves toward the pathway I've established. "Anatomical precision requires direct knowledge interface."
"Not at cost of your own essence," Ravik's presence resonates with uncharacteristic emotion. "Adjust approach or we lose you both."
Their concern registers but cannot alter necessity.
Complete resurrection requires perfect pattern transfer—approximation means failure, and failure means losing Thane forever.
The choice presents itself with crystalline clarity: risk my own existence to ensure his return, or maintain safe distance and guarantee failure.
No choice at all, really.
"Maintain triangular stability," I instruct, already pushing beyond sustainable limits. "I must extend fully into transitional state to guide final convergence."