Page 97 of Magic in My Bones

Dorian’s jaw tightened.

“Compassion is not a weakness,” Cassian insisted. “It’s what separates us from monsters.”

Alistair’s laugh was cold, hollow. “Then perhaps it’s time for monsters to take their rightful place. Strength, power,dominion…That is the future. Not sentimentality.”

Dorian stepped forward, placing himself between me and the abomination that was once Alistair Grimshaw. “That's where you're mistaken, Alistair. True strength lies in compassion. It takes real courage to lift others up, while only the weak drag people down in their desperate climb to the top.”

Vane scoffed, a sharp sound that cut through the tension like a blade. “Spare me your lectures, Crowe. You’ve always been soft, blind to the truth that power demands sacrifice. Alistair understood that, understands it even now.”

Alistair flexed his clawed hands, the movement unnatural, joints cracking wetly. “And now I will reap the rewards,” he rumbled. His eyes fixed on me, and I felt as though I was being peeled apart layer by layer. “Ren Wickens, you brought me here, unknowingly, perhaps, but willingly nonetheless. A key in the lock.”

I shook my head, the denial rising in my throat before I could stop it. “No. No, I didn’t know! I wouldn’t have—”

“But you did,” Alistair interrupted, his gills flaring. “Your intent is irrelevant. The ritual is already underway, and my bond to Dagon will soon be sealed. Immortality will be mine. All I need is a little of your blood.”

I backed away, clutching the Chain of Echoes like a lifeline. My mind raced, trying to find a way out of this nightmare. Dorian's hand found my shoulder, steadying me. His touch was a comfort, an anchor in the chaos.

“You'll have to go through me first,” Dorian said, his voice low and dangerous. There was a hardness in his eyes I'd never seenbefore, a steely resolve that sent a thrill down my spine despite the dire circumstances.

Vane laughed, a harsh, grating sound. “How noble. But ultimately futile. You can't stop what's already been set in motion.”

He raised his hands, dark energy crackling between his fingers. The very air seemed to warp and twist around him. Alistair stepped forward, his malformed body undulating grotesquely.

“Come now, Ren,” he crooned. “Just a few drops. A small price to pay for the glory I will attain. You could join me, you know. I could give you everything you've ever wanted. The body you’ve always known you should have, and one free from the trappings of mortality. Power beyond your wildest dreams.”

I stared at Alistair, my heart pounding as his words sank in like poisoned barbs. The offer hung in the air, a twisted promise that made my stomach churn. I swallowed hard, my grip tightening on the Chain of Echoes until my knuckles turned white.

“You're wrong,” I said, meeting Dorian's eyes briefly. His unwavering faith in me had taught me more about self-worth than any magical transformation could. “I don't need your empty promises or your warped ideals. My body, my life—everything I am—is mine because I fought for it. Maybe my life isn’t perfect, and maybe my body doesn’t fit into a nice, neat little box, but it doesn’t need to be remade. I’m not something to fix because I’m not broken. I never was. True power isn’t about what you can take or control. It’s about knowing yourself and standing unshaken. And I know who I am, Alistair. I am enough. I always have been.”

Dorian's hand squeezed my shoulder, a silent affirmation of my words. Pride shone in his eyes when our gazes met, and in that moment, I knew I had made the right choice. I stood tall, myresolve unwavering in the face of Alistair's grotesque form and Vane's malevolent sneer.

“You insignificant whelp,” Vane snarled, his face contorting with rage. “You dare reject such an offer? You're nothing but a pathetic, confused child playing at being a man.”

Anger flared hot in my chest, but before I could retort, Cassian stepped forward, his burly frame radiating a quiet, simmering fury.

“That's enough,” he growled, his deep voice reverberating through the chamber. “Ren is more of a man than you could ever hope to be, Vane. He knows who he is and what he stands for. That's a strength you'll never understand.”

Rowan moved to stand beside Cassian, their delicate features set in a look of grim determination. “Your words have no power here,” they said, their usually gentle voice now sharp as a blade. “We won't let you corrupt the sanctity of life and death any further.”

Vane's eyes narrowed, dark energy crackling around his fingertips. “Then you will all die,” he hissed.

Alistair lunged at me with a snarl, moving with unnatural speed. I stumbled back, nearly losing my grip on the Chain of Echoes. Dorian was there in an instant, a barrier of shimmering energy springing to life between us and the twisted creature.

Across the chamber, Cassian and Rowan moved to stop Dean Vane. Cassian's fists smashed into the rock, narrowly avoiding Vane’s head while Rowan wove arcane symbols in the air.

“Ren, the circle!” Dorian shouted over the crackling of dark magic. “Use the Chain to disrupt it!”

My mind raced as I scanned the intricate lines etched into the stone floor. The runes pulsed with a sickly light, the air above them shimmering like a heat haze. I could feel the wrongness of it, the perversion of the natural order.

I raised the Chain of Echoes, the silver links glinting in the eerie glow. The runes along its length flared to life, resonating with the power of the captured souls. I could feel their anguish, their desperation, and beneath it all, a flicker of hope.

“I'm sorry,” I whispered to the spirits bound within. “But I need your help.”

With a deep breath, I plunged my consciousness into the Chain, allowing my essence to merge with the enslaved souls. Their memories, their emotions, their very beings flooded through me. It was agony and ecstasy, a maelstrom of sensation that threatened to sweep me away.

But I held fast, clinging to the core of who I was—Ren Wickens, a man who had fought tooth and nail for every scrap of self-acceptance and belonging. I reached out through the Chain, guiding the spirits' energy, shaping it into a weapon of my own making.

With a cry of defiance, I lashed out at the ritual circle, the Chain of Echoes whipping through the air like a serpent of silver light. Time slowed to a crawl as I watched its trajectory, my heart pounding in my chest like a drum beaten by a frenzied musician.

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