Chapter 3: Chasing Rabbits

It took me some time to figure out the perfect layout since I was working without a decent supply of blood. Which sucked, since blood tended to be a perfect medium for any kind of rune work. Unfortunately, the people who had summoned me here had done a good job of making sure the children had been drained of theirs. I was not looking forward to going through the process of magically replenishing the blood of my new vessel, but first I had to succeed without blowing myself up.

A quick walk back into the tunnel yielded plenty of old bones that would serve as a replacement for the runic layout of the circle. Sure I could have used some bones from the corpses of the children themselves, but that seemed rather macabre, even for me. I wasn’t about to dishonor the bodies of these innocent children even more than I had to and besides that removing their bones might have severely weakened the structural integrity of the transfer as a whole.

Now I had to choose, the lack of blood in their bodies would lead to some uncomfortable side effects but the nature of my soul should be plenty as a buffer until the core would kick in to start production again. Magical blood was weird in that way, not bound to a single body necessarily, but rather to the soul and magic of the owner itself.

Vampirism followed that principle, it was not a curse but instead merely a way for a strong being to imprint on the soul of a victim. The vampire in question would split a tiny piece of their soul, planting it deep within the soul-core structure of the victim. Mundane blood cells would then slowly be replaced by ones infested with the soul fragment of the 'master vampire'.

From personal experience with vampires, I knew that the victims were more often than not willing participants. I wouldn't judge them for falling for the promise of false immortality and power, but then again I had walked down a similar path in pursuit of secrets that should have better stayed in obscurity.

I turned my attention back to the corpses in front of me. Four of the seven children I skipped immediately, I had the unfortunate experience of being stuck in a male body before, and it wasn’t something I was keen on repeating. Not when there was a choice at least.

One of the three girls was way too young, I would leave such deceit to the just-mentioned vampires who loved such acts of deceit and illusion. One of the most terrifying vampires I had ever met was a little girl, who got turned around the times of the roman emperor Marcus Aurelius. She enjoyed her weird mind games, but that was not something I was too keen on emulating.

I shuddered at the mere thought. And as much as I enjoyed putting Francis in uncomfortable situations, no... Just no... It would be funny to see his reaction, but then it was just one of those jokes that would turn stale as quickly as a freshly brewed batch of moonfrog poison.

In the end, it came down to the last two. A girl I would guess was around 15 years of age, maybe a bit younger. Again, still way too creepy of a choice even if it would be fun to have the advantage of being underestimated. The oldest one was the logical choice. Slightly malnourished, pale like the moon itself, which was mostly due to the lack of blood but besides that, she had a face that reminded me of aunt Calista.

Blonde, slightly coiled hair. Her face was still set in the horror of death equally panicked and full of sorrow. I checked her pupils to discover pleasant amber eyes, and a small scar over her right eye that seemed to have healed a time long ago. I quickly checked for curse residue but found nothing of sorts. She was on the smaller side, but not by much. Helpful to blend in and disappear in a crowd of people.

She wasn’t particularly attractive but that was not something that had ever mattered or applied to my old self either. The wounds our unknown enemies had inflicted before the ritual did bother me to an extent, but nothing that couldn't be fixed. Mostly. I did a few more rudimentary scans before deciding that anything would be better than being stuck in this age-ridden body.

I took out the small ritual dagger I had taken with me and carefully sliced over my right thumb, opening a small wound. Not too small and not too big, it was a practiced motion and with the confiscated wooden wand I pulled a string of blood. I had to focus and dig deep to grasp my soul core to draw the blood from as close to the source as possible. There should have been enough time since the soul transfer to begin changing the properties of the old lady’s blood, enough at least to attempt this without inviting disaster.

A flick of my thumb sealed the wound and I carefully lowered 3/4ths of the oddly looking blood into one of the open wounds. Once inside I guided it with absolute focus, nothing was allowed to go wrong at this point. I needed it to reach the endosteal cavity, the thin membrane of the inner bone wall. From there I had access to the bone marrow and could initiate the transfer.

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I waited patiently for the pulse, and indeed it didn't take long before I felt something. Weak and crude, not like the usual vibrancy of such rituals but this was understandable considering what I was forced to work with.

I steadied myself and breathed in.

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One... The blood was working its way through the girl's body, slowly so very slowly it nestled itself into its new vessel. An odd sensation, to willingly splinter a part of your soul. A deep existential fear gripped my heart, it was common when you dabbled in soul magic. An instinctual terror that had driven plenty of practitioners into madness and despair...

It got colder... Why did it get colder?

Two... I closed my eyes, focusing on the parts of my soul that would need to be purged from the body I was dragged into. I still felt parts of the old woman, her essence a familiar and welcoming feel by now but still, the grief and pure hate she had for the ones responsible were there. Hidden and buried, locked away in the depths of her blood, she was still fighting to be freed. For a brief moment, my mind wandered to the fae, maybe I should have brought some iron with me...

Why were the walls melting? Beautiful fractal patterns that beckoned me closer...

Three... With trembling fingers, I lifted the wand and aimed it at my current body's heart. In the distance I heard a gong or maybe a bell or maybe a horn, I felt like I should know what it was for and yet suddenly there was nothing but the melting walls. Drip. Drop. Like the wax that I used to seal my letters with. Drip. Drop. I hated having to write letters. Why should I apologize for what I had done? Drip. Drop.

The walls spoke to me, I should hide. But as I stared at my shaking hands I only saw eyes staring back. So many eyes. Couldn't hide. Couldn't hide.

Four... Another gong, another bell, the wax hardened, and as I tasted the air I started losing myself somewhere between the taste of honeysuckles and copper coins. I felt Mr. Rabbit try and reach out to me. Poor poor Mr. Rabbit, who would care for him now? But then he had always been something grander than reality itself. With his small top hat and his cute little dances. He would keep me sane He would keep me safe. He had promised me. I can’t... Can’t lose control. Can't lose control now. Not yet.

Sand in my mouth and between my toes. Sand in my eyes and sand in my nose.

Five... Something touched my hair, my hair? I didn't know I had hair. Drip. Drop. The honeysuckles tasted more like blood when I breathed in this time. I liked blood. Why did I like it so much? It cared for me, I think. It never gave up on me, even when I gave up on myself. A whisper, a song of unimaginable coldness that spread through my veins. The point where thermodynamics said goodbye and jumped out of the window. What a stupid image. Where was my blood, I needed my blood! Please don't leave me behind... Please...

The sand tasted like salt. Maybe there was never any sand to begin with...

Six... “Lewana, Lewana... Keep walking Lewana” I knew this voice. It was Rabbit. My best friend in the whole wide everything. Had he finally come to take me with him? We had a pact. He would come because he promised that he would come. A wet kiss on my cheeks, why was it so wet? Was I crying?

Now was in the past. The future was somewhere else. Space was where there was no space. Was it really just fractals all the way down?

Seven... There was no gong this time, just the warm embrace of the ethereal plane. Oh, how I longed to keep going, to not bow down but instead to set myself free. To become magic itself, wild and violent and beautiful like during the ages when giants still roamed the lands. Reality shattered and for a short moment, I was able to glance upon the visage of a being so incomprehensible that it alone seemed to be the glue that held everything together.

I should go there. Why did I ever abandon the path... I was meant to go there. Everyone was.

Eight... I felt strong arms wrap around my soul and rip me away from the face of the final one, the oldest of the old, the death of death itself. Colors of such impossible vibrancy slowly started flowing together again to reform reality. Was this how they had felt? The ancient ones that had dived into nothingness and came back with their heads held high and creation on their shoulders?

I reached out and touched Mr. Rabbit. It was real. He was real. Everything was real. Insanity to think otherwise.

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And then there he was. White fur and pitch-black eyes. Staring deep into my very being. And in his eyes I found the conviction to surrender to the pull of unconsciousness…