Sitting down in the basement of the building we had decided on, I let out a soft sigh. Finding supplies in town was getting difficult, everything seemed to have been picked clear already. Sure, we still managed to find a few things, mostly in warehouses and hidden in cellars, but overall, the pickings were getting sparse. Sure, we had stashed a lot in our lair, but it would only last for a few months, maybe throughout the year, not forever. And that was assuming we hunted and harvested meat and gathered as much as we could, to extend those rations.

It had to be much worse for the people at Apple Gate Farm, not only were they a far greater number, but my group also had the advantage that only I had a relatively normal human diet.

Silva was mostly a carnivore, though she happily munched on some kibble but primarily, she ate meat. A lot of it, preferably freshly hunted with the army of dog. Maybe she was undergoing some sort of throwback to an earlier state of evolution, pushing her more towards her pre-domesticated ancestors, but I wasn’t sure. She didn’t seem to mind her meaty diet either way.

Similarly, Alex was quite adept at foraging for themself, happily hunting down all the insects, berries and nuts they could find. Sure, they liked to supplement by stealing small amounts of our food, but they mostly went after leftovers, so it didn’t matter.

Last, and amusingly least when it came to food, Lia. She didn’t need food unless she was physically injured to the point that her body needed the building blocks to restore her flesh. Otherwise, she happily suckled on my teat, or rather forearm, and sustained herself that way. It put a somewhat higher burden on myself, but given that I could use my Blood Magic to magically enrich the blood she drank, she only needed minor amounts. Where she’d have to drain a normal human completely dry to get all the magic she needed from their blood, I could simply concentrate that magic into a few drops, making it far more efficient. It was also something I had been teaching her, so she’d be able to sustain herself from others, though it would be rather painful for them. Once again, I realised just how incredibly useful my Magical Hair was. Sure, it had its drawbacks, but the ability to draw out Astral Power from it and concentrate it in my Blood without feeling pain, alongside its use to make magical threads for some simple enchantments felt priceless. Likely would continue to feel priceless, until somebody managed to get some of my hair and used it against me as that one insane spellcaster had done on Mundus.

Shaking my head, I focused on the present once again. We had managed to scrooge up enough food to last us some time without digging into the supplies we had stored in our lair, and made an abandoned cellar in the city our new home. It wouldn’t be permanent, just a place where we could hang our hats, or maybe the heads of our enemies, for the next week. A place where we could rest while hunting the Withered in Racoon City.

But before we could go hunting, I desperately wanted to figure out what that strange ritual I had seen in my dreams was. Some of the runes I could see related to darkness, others to magic, though I had been unable to figure out what kind. Central to the whole thing was my personal glyph, so I could only guess that it involved the identity of Morgana, somewhat separate from the Legacy I had taken on. But separate in what way, I had no idea.

Mentally looking at it from every direction I could manage, I had tried to find any dangers in the ritual, if there was any way it could harm me. The problem was, I could only make vague guesses about what it would do, it seemed to draw on magic that was bound to me and if my understanding was correct, it would try to bring that magic to me.

It might, possibly, draw in the skill-levels I had managed to gain on Mundus, something that would be incredibly beneficial and increase my power multifold. Or it might do something else, but no matter how I looked at the combination of runes and intent, there didn’t seem to be a way the ritual could harm me.

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With that in mind, I began to draw the ritual, using a bit of chalk I had liberated from a toy store. The chalk alone wouldn’t do anything magical, I doubted I’d even be able to channel Astral Power into it if I tried, certainly not enough to make the ritual work, but it gave me some lines to colour in later. Drawing them in chalk first also allowed me to make any corrections needed. Copying a ritual I had only seen in my dreams wasn’t something I would get right on the first attempt and making corrections while it was only drawn in chalk seemed prudent.

Especially given that my plan was to draw the actual ritual in my blood, allowing me to easily infuse magic into it, or rather, use magically infused Blood to begin with. If I did that, I had to make sure I wasted as little as possible, otherwise, I might accidentally starve poor Lia, or pass out from anaemia. Neither sounded like a good idea, so careful preparation and consideration were necessary.

It was almost night when I finally finished the circle and I could almost feel the Sun start to set somewhere far above. Or maybe I was simply imagining things, while I had a relatively accurate internal clock, I wasn’t attuned to the Sun, not like I had been attuned to the Moon while on Mundus. I knew to avoid the Sun’s harsh light but without looking outside, I wouldn’t be able to tell if the Sun was up or not, whether it was obscured by clouds or anything like that.

Cutting into my arm, I drew Astral Power from my hair and pushed it into my blood, letting the crimson liquid well from the wound I had caused and taking control of it with my Blood Magic. There was a heady, coppery scent in the air, sweet and almost cloying in its intensity, the natural odour of blood only made stronger by the magic I had infused into it.

Following the lines I had drawn earlier, I began to add the blood, using my magic for fine control. No matter what sort of brush I had, my magic would always be the more accurate tool. And accuracy mattered a great deal in the ritual. As I drew, I could already feel the Astral Power I had infused into the blood start to follow the lines of the ritual, the sensation pushing me to make the most minor alterations. It was quite similar to the connecting patterns I had learned from the dwarves and slowly discovered for my own magic. The runes themselves guided the Astral Power, the form giving rise to meaning, but between the different runes, the meaning faded. The connecting patterns allowed the Astral Power to smoothly connect from one rune to the next, keeping and strengthening the meaning and intent within the magic.

Soon, the entire ritual circle was filled with a lightly pulsing red light, the Astral Power within my blood radiating out into the room, still connected to me and already starting to power the ritual. Letting out a deep breath, I stood in one of the glyphs symbolising Morgana and poured my own Astral Power into the circle.

For a minute, nothing much happened. The amount of Astral Power I pushed into the formation was large but I could sustain it for a bit. Not too long but hopefully, it would be enough. As more and more Astral Power was thrown into the void, I could feel something reaching back. A familiar presence, one I hadn’t felt in far too long. Over a month, I hadn’t felt my feathered friend’s presence and now, I could almost feel her wings settle around my shoulders, sheltering, protecting me.

There was no exchange of words, but I could feel sensations, exhilaration, as if we were in the middle of a daring dive, unexpected joy, as if we had discovered something nice and shiny and, finally, relief. The emotions I could feel from the other side of the connection mirrored my own almost perfectly, a joy at knowing that my friend was still out there, exhilaration at managing to contact her and relief knowing that I wouldn’t be alone.

Moments later, I could feel a rush of Astral Power push back, into the formation and towards me. Welcoming it, I didn’t even try to keep it from infusing the formation, the power I could feel was that of Lenore, a power I would never mistake with anything else.

Confident that my friend wouldn’t try to screw me over, I simply waited, as the power coalesced into something within the second glyph symbolising Morgana. Finally, the power faded and I could see what I had been sent.