Chapter 12: Resurrection
The wind howled through the graveyard.
Dirga sat cross-legged on the cold earth, the pale corpse of Domiscus Vantasio lying nearby in the ritual circle. His coat flared slightly in the breeze, shadows curling at his fingertips like living tendrils. He took a slow breath, grounding himself in the moment
Focus.
He closed his eyes, slipping into meditation. The sound of the wind faded. Silence enveloped him. In the dark of his mind, he reached for the presence — the soul he’d seen floating in his inner space.
And there it was.
A red-glowing orb, pulsing like a flame trapped in glass.
Dirga focused, pulling at it with thought alone.
And then—
It appeared.
In his open palm hovered a glowing, writhing mass of energy — Domiscus Vantasio’s soul. It twisted and flickered, fragile and powerful at once. He could feel its shape, its weight... even its unnatural warmth. It trembled against his skin like it knew what he could do.
He could crush it.