Book One – Chapter 8

It had driven her to the brink of madness not knowing how. Consumed by an insatiable craving, she had sought to etch her instincts onto him, to share and share and share incessantly until he could once again be like her. Yves trusted Midnight’s senses where his own faltered to understand the present in its fullness, and in return she relied on his wizard ability to envision the future. Because as she shared, so did he. And as he learned, so did she. Over the years of symbiotic exchange, her thinking had expanded beyond her instincts. Glimpses of the future seeped into her consciousness. Merging her innate abilities with those learned from her wizard, she developed the competence to re-evaluate her actions based on a myriad potential futures yet to unfold. She had learned to reflect and to envision and, from both, to strategise.

However, when faced with the Vicha and confronted with the words of her wizard, foresight deserted her. Now, suffering from the venom, the looming helplessness persisted. Her all was insufficient; she, the primal beast, was at the precipice of succumbing to the venom. There was nothing she could do, unless she could be more.

This comprehension of the future, the urgent need to be more, and the relentless drive to fortify the bond with her wizard carved a new path. The echoes of her wizard’s knowledge reverberated, pulling her to an intersection of her own making — a crossroads where primal instincts clashed with the capricious threads of wizardry. One assured demise; the other demanded transformation. Midnight sensed the energies within herself shift, distinguishing the absorbed light in her fur, her innate darkness, which emerged when she merged into the shadows, and the venom causing agonising pain. Trusting knowledge over instinct, she discerned the insidious foreign element within her. To become more, to be more like her wizard, she was determined to sacrifice her entirety.