Book One – Chapter 13

Even in her darkness form, Midnight found herself able to interact with these items. She had been told that these particular objects were designed to bind themselves to the essence of the bearer, but this knowledge was just words, not understanding. Yves would be able to provide her with more explanations.

The thought took Midnight by surprise. She had never contemplated the nature and powers of the world, as well as magic, in such depth before her venom transformation. She had not reflected with such conscious depth, but felt and acted. And in the way she had acted, Midnight had divided the world into possibilities and impossibilities. Knowing what she could do had been sufficient, and it had never been necessary to understand all the reasons behind these possibilities. Now, however, with her thinking seeming so much more complex, these considerations seemed to come naturally.

Still, while all these questions and thoughts and memories were with Midnight, they occupied only a small, rather quiet part of her mind. Ultimately, she was content that she could carry the ring and the strings with her through the stone, and everything else might or might not find an explanation in the future. In the present, Midnight was much more focused on her surroundings, on what she felt from within.

As she moved through the dense rock, the world outside of her was a feeling of solidified darkness. Nothing except herself shifted. Nothing moved — only the nothing and the silence that was her. The silence of the mountain was absolute; there was no breath to be felt in its arteries. In this profound darkness, Midnight found solace. It was the thought that she could simply remain. That she could just be.

Her transformation had stripped away the trappings of her former life, leaving only the essence of what she had become. But somewhere, still, the bond with her wizard had remained. Even if the bond had remained just in her mind, it was a fragment of her past that she still carried with her, the fragment that kept her moving. It was the voice of Yves that she remembered so well that she could almost hear him in that small and quiet part of her mind that brought up all the questions, explanations and memories. It was broken only by the faint, almost imperceptible whispers that came from the new voice within her, the voice of her Gods that would tell her all the truths about who she was now.