More and more of the strangely simple body plan of the Shattered was becoming clear in my mind. It felt almost tragic, these creatures would survive for a time, but they were a dead end. No reproductive capabilities I could detect, making them nothing but monsters that would terrorize the survivors until they were finally taken care of. Almost as much of a dead person walking as if she was a zombie, just the energy animating them was different.

Looking at them through my magical sight, I could see more, especially if I focused deeper, pushing that sense to the point things became painfully overwhelming. The power flowing through the Shattered was raw, for lack of a better term, wild and untamed. Primal in a way I could barely comprehend and staring at it gave me a headache.

Sitting back, I let my mind drift, trying to figure out if there was a way to help the creature, or at least do something to keep it from wilting the way it did. By the looks of it, it won’t make it another day, not unless it was set free to roam and feed as it needs. Something about the captivity, or maybe the presence of other humans, stifled it, prevented it from sustaining itself, like its brethren outside did. Something needed to be done, or the creature would not live to see another day. Even as I considered what that ‘something’ might be, the information regarding the feeding and sustenance of Shattered was filed away, as something that might come in handy some day.

I doubted the Shattered could actually draw power from the Astral River, so they needed a different source. Or maybe they had to adjust what they could take from the River, how they took in power. Either way, it was a fascinating observation, to study the internal existence of a Shattered in a controlled setting. It might be even better in this case, as the Shattered was starved, almost to the point of death, weakening the system and giving it an instinctual need to feed, to take in sustenance in any way it could. It was, quite literally, starved for power. Power I might be able to provide. Power I had to provide if I wanted to succeed.

Blood Magic came to mind for the second part, it needed sustenance and given what I had seen before, I could be somewhat confident that Blood Magic, or at least Miasma, would do the trick.

From outside, I could hear faint voices filtering in, Kira was speaking to others. A part of my mind perked up, still petering between vigilance and paranoia, and listened in, trying to catch as many of their words as possible.

They were speaking about prayer, it became obvious that Kira hadn’t told everyone about the Shattered in the small cellar I was now in, but was trying to convince people to pray for her daughter. At one point, I could make out the words that blood was thicker than water, though I failed to hear the context. Hearing them, I almost had to laugh, that phrase was one that amused me to no end, ever since I had read about it and the full context in which it had been written.

On its face, it seemed to describe that a blood relation would always be the strongest, that blood-related family trumped the watery bonds of camaraderie and friendship or something along those lines but when looking at the original, a wholly different image emerged. It spoke of the blood of the covenant, of a blood ritual between a people and their God, that cemented stronger bonds than those stemming from the waters of the womb. Not family, but ritual was supposed to be the stronger force.

Not a terribly surprising revelation, given that the phrase literally stemmed from the organisation deriving power from said covenant, so the idea that the covenant was supposed to trump and overwrite any other loyalty only made sense. If you can influence people, bind them to your cause.

The idea of a covenant stuck within my mind and outside, I could hear faint chanting now. They were praying, and praying as a group, following along with their leader like the sheep they were. Hopefully, they’d fail in their invocation of a higher power, I had no interest in having more clerics run around.

As my mind drifted back to the Shattered before me and what could be done to bring the girl it had once been back, a scent tingled my nose. Raw Astral Power, unleashed by the fervent prayer outside was drifting through the area and things began to click in my mind.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

A covenant, sealed in Blood and magic, pushed into the Shattered’s mind with enough power might bind it to the covenant, instead of the madness the raw Astral Power pushed it into. A grin formed on my mind, thoughts speeding up, as I considered things. Time was slowing down and I decided to try.

Cutting into both my palms, I pushed magic into the blood pooling in my hands, pain ripping through my body. Sacrificing my magic was never pleasant but it served as a conduit, a conduit I needed. Reaching out, I tried to grab hold of the raw Astral Power the people outside had unleashed, trying to force it to do my bidding. There was no god here, only I and I would be the answer to their prayer.

Letting the blood and magic from my hands drip into the creature's mouth, I felt a connection form, my own power, accompanied by the power I was taking from the prayer meeting held outside, was flooding into its body and I decided to use that flood to add something else. Channelling Astral Power into my Mind Magic, I tried to let it flow with my blood and power, to forge a connection.

Faintly, I could feel the moon start to set somewhere beyond the horizon, as dawn was breaking, signalling the beginning of a new day. A new dawn, a new day, while the creatures of the night had to sleep. A new start. As if to welcome that new start, the Shattered below me, after just letting my blood flow into its mouth, started to gently lap at my hands, suckling on the wound as if nursing. More and more of me was flowing into the Shattered, leaving me a little light-headed but I could feel the magic work, feel it settle into the creature and change it into something else. Something more.

Feeling the Astral Power within me deplete, I used my secondary mental process to drag in more Astral Power, drawing it from the Astral River as quickly as possible. It was almost akin to channelling power into a runic formation, only that now, I wasn’t just channelling power, but I was using my blood as a medium, to channel Astral Power and even part of my mind into the Shattered. There was a strange sensation of resonance coming from the Astral River, surging through me, until it was flowing into the Shattered. It felt helpful, allowing me to deepen the connection, to set it into the furthest recesses of the creature’s mind, beyond the animalistic impulses that dominated its existence.

Closing my eyes, I could feel the creature move towards me, curiously the primary sensation I could perceive was fear. It was afraid, in need of care and guidance. Guidance I could provide, turning it from a mindless monster into something more. Something that didn’t need to be afraid.

“Greetings,” I tried to project, only to realise that the Shattered had yet to gain the ability to use language. The sensations I felt over the link were more primal, bestial in some ways. For a moment, I had no idea how to communicate, until I focused on the basics. What did a creature need? Shelter and sustenance were the most important, with something like companionship following far after those first two.

I could offer the creature sustenance, the blood still dripping into its mouth was proof of that, and shelter could be organised. Companionship, if the creature wanted to follow me, it could, just like Silva was following me. But it needed to learn and obey.

Outside, the power was welling up even more, maybe the breaking dawn was pushing the praying congregation to a fever pitch, or maybe it was something else, either way, I could feel the power and with a ruthless smile, I took as much of it as I could, letting it flow through me and into the Shattered. The resonance increased and it was almost as if there was some sort of plan, a design for what I was trying to do. And with the help of that design, the changes I had wrought were taking hold in the Shattered.

Or maybe I shouldn’t call it a Shattered any longer, as I felt my body grow heavy from exhaustion and blood loss, I could see the flames fade away, flesh starting to form around the blackened pits that remained behind. The Shattered’s eyes were regrowing, as words started to tumble from my mouth. The covenant, the binding that turned the creature that was Shattered into something else. Not something whole, the cracks of Shattering would remain, but something… more.

“By my Blood, be bound…

By my Will, be guided…

By my Magic, be mine…”

Whispers were falling from my eyes, invocations of a foreign world, as I slipped into the ancient jotun-tongue, binding the new-born to myself. What I had seen in the Shattered’s body was fascinating, a creature so perfectly suited for combat, strong and durable. With my mind to guide it, to give it purpose, it would become so much more.

A perfect weapon, forged by my magic and bound to my will.

Outside, the magic started to fade, the new day overcoming the night just as my own power overcame the Shattered and fully filled it. Turned it into mine.

Looking into newly formed, crimson eyes that stared back at me in confusion, I let myself drop to my side, laying on the ground in exhaustion. At the same time, I made sure that my eyes never left hers. The mended creature, no longer Shattered, but not human all the same. Something new.

I had succeeded.