Page 70 of Magic in My Bones

“Grim?” I called out, scanning the room for my familiar. “Come on, buddy, we've got work to do. There’ll be lots of old papers to chew on.”

Silence greeted me, which was odd considering Grim usually came crawling along at the mere suggestion of food. I frowned, a tendril of worry worming its way into my gut.

“Grim?” I tried again, my voice pitching higher as I approached his terrarium. “I swear, if you’re eating Luca’sHerbalist’s Guide to Hexenweedtextbook again, I’ll…”

My words died in my throat as I peered into the glass enclosure. Where Grim should have been perched, munching on his stack of old grimoires, there was instead a pupa unlike anything I'd ever seen. It gleamed like polished onyx, catching the light and refracting it in mesmerizing patterns. Dotted across its surface were what looked like tiny jewels, each one a different hue - sapphire blue, emerald green, ruby red. They pulsed with an otherworldly glow, as if someone had bottled up the aurora borealis and sprinkled it over this magical cocoon. The cocoon seemed to breathe with ancient magic, each pulse sending ripples of power through the air like whispers from beyond the veil.

But the strangest part? It was humming. A soft, barely there vibration that resonated in my bones.

I stumbled backward, my heart racing. “Dorian!”

The door creaked open, and Dorian's tall frame filled the doorway. “What is it, Ren?” he asked, concern etching his features.

I pointed wordlessly at the terrarium, unable to form coherent sentences. Dorian's eyes widened as he took in the sight of Grim's pupa. He approached it slowly, his movements careful and deliberate. “Is that…Grim?”

“I think so,” I said and frowned over at him. “You said he would change, but I wasn’t expecting this.”

“To be entirely honest, I wasn’t sure what to expect either,” Dorian said, a small smile playing on his lips. “I’ve never seen an Actias arcanum’s transformation before.”

I blinked, my brain struggling to process the bizarre sight before me. “So this is... normal?”

Dorian chuckled softly, his green eyes twinkling with amusement. “In the realm of necromancy, 'normal' is a rather flexible concept. But yes, this appears to be a perfectly healthy transformation for Grim based on what I’ve read. When he emerges, he’ll be much stronger.”

“What should I do?” I watched the stillness of Grim’s form, a deep knot tightening in my chest. “Should we just... wait?”

“For now, yes,” Dorian said, his voice gentle. “When a being is in transition, it’s delicate. Whether it’s a soul crossing over or a familiar going through a shift like this, it’s our duty to protect them, to give them space to change in their own time. He needs time to become what he’s becoming. Our role now is to protect him and support him as he goes through that change.”

I stood there, my gaze on Grim, and something in Dorian’s words settled deep inside me. “What can I do to support him?”

Dorian crouched beside the terrarium, his hands moving with practiced care. He reached over to gather some leaves that had fallen off of one of Luca’s plants. With slow, deliberate movements, he gently arranged them around the base of the pupa, creating a small nest to keep it warm and protected.

“We keep him safe,” Dorian explained softly, his focus still on his task. “Just as we would protect a spirit in transition, we give Grim the space and warmth he needs to transform. These leaves will help keep him insulated, provide the comfort and stability he needs. Sometimes, the best thing we can do is protect the process, not rush it.”

I watched as he carefully arranged the leaves, his hands tender and precise. The sight of Grim, wrapped in such care, felt almost sacred. There was something intimate about this moment, about allowing Grim to change at his own pace, free from interference.

I nodded slowly, my chest loosening as I understood. “Just wait, protect him, and let him be.”

Dorian gave me a soft smile, his hands still working gently around Grim’s pupa. “Exactly. It’s about allowing the change to happen naturally, without forcing it. We’re here to keep the space safe, to give him room to evolve.”

“How long will he be like this?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Dorian straightened up, brushing a stray leaf from his sleeve. “It's hard to say. Familiar transformations can take anywhere from a few days to several weeks. We'll just have to be patient.”

I nodded, still staring at Grim's cocoon. “I've never been very good at patience,” I admitted with a wry smile.

Dorian chuckled. “Well, consider this an excellent learning opportunity, then. Now, shall we continue our quest? The archives await, and I'm sure Bones is wondering what's keeping us.”

Right. The archives. Our mission. I'd almost forgotten in the face of Grim's unexpected metamorphosis. I tore my gaze away from the terrarium and grabbed my notebook and research materials.

“Ready,” I said, trying to inject some enthusiasm into my voice. As we left the room, I couldn't help but cast one last glance at Grim's shimmering cocoon. “Stay safe, buddy.”

We emerged into the hallway where Bones was waiting, wagging his bony tail.

Dorian led the way down the winding corridors of Blackstone Academy, his long, confident strides pulling ahead of me with each step. I had to practically jog to keep up, my heart pounding for more reasons than one. Bones trotted alongside us, his bony paws clicking against the stone floor in a rhythm that somehow felt oddly comforting, like a heartbeat echoing through the halls.

“So,” I panted, clutching my notebook to my chest, trying to catch my breath, “what exactly are we looking for in the archives?”

Dorian glanced over his shoulder, his green eyes flashing with excitement, and for a moment, the sight of him made my chest tighten. That glint, that spark of enthusiasm, made him look even more... well, more Dorian. I had to fight the urge to just stand there and admire the way his hair fell so effortlessly across his forehead, the way his voice held an edge of authority even when he was sharing his excitement.

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