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Chapter 2 - Title Initiated

The house was still dark.

Silence had sunk deep into the walls, thick and heavy, as if even the air refused to move.

Lucian remained on his knees, trying to regain his balance after the spell. His hands trembled.

A faint pulse of power moved beneath his skin, crawling through his veins like a restless serpent. When he saw the first flicker of movement in his wife's fingers, his breath caught in his throat.

Lumi's hand trembled softly, then her arm shifted. Lucian leaned closer, eyes fixed on every motion, afraid to even blink.

Each twitch, each tiny reflex, made the spark of hope inside him grow a little brighter.

Then a low hum came from outside. Lucian raised his head and looked toward the window. Through the fogged glass, a faint shape began to take form.

It was the mark of the Dark Council.

A three-headed serpent, drawn in what looked like black ink, glimmered against the pane.

Lucian froze for a heartbeat. The resonance of his spell had reached them. The forbidden ritual must have called out to those who served the darkness.

They would come for him soon. But he did not feel fear. At that moment, the only thing that mattered was that Lumi was still there, standing before him.

Lumi's head tilted slightly to one side.

Then, with trembling legs, she rose to her feet. Her balance was fragile, her body stiff like a marionette's. Lucian moved forward and caught her by the shoulders, helping her stand upright.

Her skin was icy to the touch, and the chill seeped into his palms. Yet he did not let go.

"Lumi," he whispered softly.

"Lumi… Can you hear me?"

No answer came. Only the faint hiss of the wind and the soft crackling of the dying embers.

He tried again, this time louder, voice trembling between a plea and a command. 

"Lumi…"

He reached for his wand. The crystal at its tip flickered weakly with a violet shimmer.

Lucian muttered a short incantation under his breath.

"Noct Hex."

A small sphere of flame burst from the wand and shot toward the fireplace. The explosion of sparks filled the room with a sudden glow.

Ash and ember whirled in the air as the flames grew, breathing life back into the shadows.

The firelight spread through the room, painting the walls with hues of purple and orange. Lucian's breath trembled.

For the first time, he could see her face clearly.

Under that flickering light, a shiver ran down his spine. Her eyes were pure white.

No irises, no pupils. Only emptiness, reflecting the fire like polished bone.

Her skin was just as pale, drained of all warmth. She stared at him, blank and motionless.

Then, out of the silence, cold blue letters appeared in the air.

Warning: Missing Soul

[Resurrection incomplete]

Lucian stared at the glowing message for a long moment. When it faded, he turned back to Lumi. He reached out and gently cupped her face in his hands.

Her skin was cold. Hard, like marble.

His fingers brushed along her cheeks and brow, as if a tender touch might awaken something inside her.

He smoothed a strand of her silvery hair from her face. But she didn't move.

Lumi's expression remained still. She didn't know him. She didn't even seem aware that he was there.

Lucian's heart tightened painfully in his chest, yet the faint glimmer in his eyes did not fade.

He had failed for a year, but tonight, with a single page and a single spell, he had brought her body back.

She might be hollow, she might be without a soul, but she was here.

Lucian knelt again, his head bowed, his face hidden in his hands. His voice came out as a whisper.

"I made myself a promise."

He lifted his gaze, meeting her blank white eyes.

"Now I make that promise to you. I will bring you back. No matter what it takes."

He rose slowly to his feet, pacing across the dim room, lost in thought. His mind swirled with countless possibilities, each darker than the last.

He didn't know where to start or what path to take, but the strange pulse of magic within him seemed to guide him forward.

When he turned around, Lumi was still standing in the same place. Yet as he moved, she moved too. Her body mimicking, like a shadow bound to his will.

He frowned slightly.

"Lumi, you don't have to follow me. Sit down."

Without hesitation, she dropped to her knees and lowered herself to the floor. Lucian's eyes widened. He hesitated, then gave another command.

"Come."

Lumi stood again and began to walk toward him. Her steps were slow and mechanical but precise.

Each movement deliberate, obedient.

Lucian drew a deep breath, the reality of it sinking in.

"Pick up the broken glass on the floor," he said softly, "throw it away, and come back to me."

Lumi turned and obeyed.

She knelt, gathering shards one by one, her motions careful yet devoid of thought. Lucian stood silently, watching her every gesture, studying her as if she were both miracle and curse.

Then it happened.

A sharp sound, a small gasp of air escaping Lucian's throat. Lumi had cut her hand on one of the glass pieces.

Blood trickled down her pale fingers. Lucian rushed to her side, kneeling once more, gently taking her hand.

He pulled the shard out carefully.

What he saw next left him speechless. The wound began to close before his eyes. Flesh knit together. The blood faded.

A faint, pale light spread beneath her skin, and then it was gone. The injury had completely vanished.

Lucian looked up at her, stunned. The hand that had been bleeding seconds ago was now perfect, untouched, and flawless.

"This…" he murmured to himself.

Was it the spell's lingering power? Or something else entirely?

Maybe Lumi was no longer human nor corpse: something beyond either.

Thoughts crowded his mind. Half fear, half awe. Yet he couldn't look away.

Her cold fingers still rested in his palm, and within that coldness, he could feel the faint echo of his own heartbeat.

But something was missing. Her face remained void of feeling, her gaze hollow.

She was a shell, nothing more.

Lucian rose slowly, the boards creaking under his feet. He listened. Outside, the wind howled. From a distance came the rolling thunder of a growing storm.

He turned his eyes toward the window again.

The mark of the Dark Council still lingered there, faint but visible. Time was slipping away.

He had to act quickly.

Lucian's gaze shifted toward the desk. The black leather journal lay open, the same book that had changed everything.

Its pages fluttered slightly, though there was no breeze. Traces of the spell still shimmered faintly in the air, curling upward like ghostly smoke.

He stepped closer. His fingers brushed the edge of the page, and he turned it carefully. New symbols stared back at him, twisting and foreign.

The sentences were scattered with unfamiliar letters, his language tangled with another.

In the margins, he saw small handwritten notes. Some were Lumi's delicate script.

Others were sharper, harsher, and written by another hand entirely.

Still, he read on.

One of the spells caught his attention. It had no title, but an illustration sprawled across the parchment.

Two circles intertwined, a heart drawn in the center, surrounded by smaller symbols arranged like constellations.

Beneath it was a single word:

"Assimilation."

Lucian narrowed his eyes. He remembered that word.

It belonged to forbidden texts. Whispered among necromancers as a secret never meant to be practiced.

Beast Assimilation Rites.

The fusion of life and death, human and creature. A ritual of merging, power gained at the cost of purity.

Lucian inhaled deeply. At last, he understood. Every spell had a price.

Every resurrection demanded something in return.

He closed the book, its cover letting out a faint sigh, like breath escaping a tomb. Then he turned toward the window.

The serpent mark on the glass had become darker and more defined. Almost alive, as if watching.

Lucian's lips parted.

"No matter what happens," he whispered, his voice steady but cold.

Behind him, Lumi stood motionless. The fire's glow cast their shadows long across the wall, merging them together as one.

A faint smile touched Lucian's lips. For the first time in a long while, it was real, not of grief, but of resolve.

The dim light reflected in his eyes no longer resembled hope. It was something else now. Something sharper.

He reached for his wand again. The crystal tip gleamed faintly, alive with a soft pulse.

Lucian looked at Lumi and spoke quietly.

"Be ready, Lumi. We will take your soul back."

Outside, thunder rolled. The wind shook the old door on its hinges.

And above them, faint light flickered once more.

[Path of the Gravewarden – Initiated]

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