Page 65 of Darkbirch Academy

I press my bleeding palm against his, our fingers interlacing as our blood mingles. The sensation is immediate and overwhelming—a rush of power that travels up my arm and spreads throughout my body. The runes flare brilliantly, no longer just on my wrist but covering both our arms in matching patterns of light.

“Now,” Dayn commands, his voice resonating with power that seems to vibrate in my bones.

I don’t need further instruction. The words come to me unbidden, rising from some deep well of knowledge I didn’t know I possessed. Perhaps it’s his blood in my system, perhaps it’s something older, more primal. Whatever the source, I somehow speak alongside him, our voices twining together in a language that predates history.

The convergence lights respond violently, spinning faster until they blur into a solid ring of prismatic energy. The elder blood powder rises from the altar, suspended in the air between us, forming intricate patterns that shift and change with each phrase of the incantation.

I feel a pulling sensation deep in my core, as if something essential is being drawn from me. It doesn’t hurt exactly, but the sensation is profoundly unsettling—like watching a piece of yourself detach and float away. Darkblood essence, the fundamental power that makes me who I am, flows out through my palm where it mingles with Dayn’s blood.

The combined essence rises, joining the swirling patterns of elder blood. The convergence gel liquefies, flowing upward against gravity to join the maelstrom of power building above Mazrov’s form.

The chamber begins to shake, stones grinding against each other as the very foundation of Heathborne responds to ourritual. Dust rains from the ceiling, and in the distance, I hear the faint sound of alarm bells—the academy’s magical defenses recognizing the threat.

“Don’t stop,” Dayn urges as I falter momentarily. “We’re nearly there.”

I redouble my efforts, gripping his hand tighter as we continue the incantation. The pull on my essence intensifies, becoming almost painful now. It feels as though I’m being hollowed out, vital parts of me siphoned away to fuel this ancient magic.

Is this what my grandmother warned me about? Is this why she insisted I drink his blood first?

As if in answer, I feel a surge of heat from my stomach—the dragon blood I consumed earlier rising to meet the challenge. It flows through my system, as if countering the draining effect of the ritual, preserving my core self even as my darkblood essence is drawn out.

Understanding dawns. Without his blood to protect me, this ritual might have taken far more than a “portion” of my essence—it might have drained me completely.

The power between us crests like a wave, our joined blood glowing with a light that’s neither amber nor red but something entirely new. Dayn’s incantation rises to a fever pitch, and I match him word for word, our voices resonating. The convergence lights spiral inward, converging into a single point of blinding radiance.

“The final words,” Dayn gasps. “Speak them with me.”

Together, we utter the last phrase of the ritual—three words in that ancient language that feel like fire on my tongue. The light explodes outward, a shockwave of pure power that shatters the remaining ritual components. Ourjoined hands are wrenched apart by the force, sending us staggering backward.

The very foundations of Heathborne shake violently. Dust and small stones rain from the ceiling as the convergence point beneath us destabilizes.

I drop to my knees, gasping for breath as I feel my darkblood essence rushing back into me—not diminished, but transformed somehow. As if the dragon blood in my system has altered it, creating something… unfamiliar. I flex my fingers, watching as shadows dance between them with new fluidity.

Across the chamber, Dayn has fallen to all fours, his body wracked with violent tremors. The runes beneath his skin pulse erratically, some fading entirely while others burn brighter than before.

“Dayn,” I call out, struggling to my feet.

His eyes snap to mine—no longer amber but blazing gold, pupils contracted to vertical slits. For a heart-stopping moment, I see something else looking back at me through those eyes—something vast and ancient and decidedly not human.

Then the moment passes, and he slumps forward, catching himself on trembling arms. The runes beneath his skin settle into a steady glow before fading to barely visible traces. When he looks up again, his eyes have returned to their usual amber hue, though flecks of gold still dance in their depths.

“It’s done,” he says, his voice rough with exertion. “The binding is broken.”

35

As if to confirm Dayn’s words, the convergence lights flicker once, twice, then stabilize into a newconfiguration—still seven streams, but no longer forced into a tight spiral. They flow more naturally now, weaving around each other in an ever-shifting dance that seems almost joyful in its newfound freedom.

Dayn rises unsteadily to his feet, his usual grace temporarily abandoned. He looks different somehow—less contained, more vital. The air around him shimmers slightly, as if barely containing the power within.

“So,” I say, still trying to stabilize my breathing, “if I hadn’t drunk your blood, I wouldn’t have survived that, right?”

He shakes his head. “Incorrect. You would have survived. It would have been a strain, and painful, but your bloodline is powerful enough to ensure there wouldn’t have been permanent damage. I guarantee you that.”

I frown, narrowing my eyes on him, wondering how hecould guarantee such a thing. His expression appears matter-of-fact, earnest almost, but his words don’t make sense. If it’s true that I could have survived the unbinding ritual without his blood, then why did my grandmother desperately insist I needed to drink it? She wouldn’t have said it for no reason. One of the two stories has to be subverting the truth. And my grandmother isn’t a liar.

Dayn likely knew I would die before the ritual was completed. And, of course, he didn’t tell me.

I glance at him, not sure why it even bothers me. It’s not like I ever thought he was trustworthy.

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