Leaning forward, I stare at the spirit, who seems nonplussed by the intensity of my gaze.
"What?" They sound defensive for the first ti.
"You aren't fond of wizards or magicians, are you?"
They scowl. "I am not fond of humans, human."
"I told you, I'm Lycan." Kind of.
"Hmm." They don't sound convinced. I guess I can't bla them. It isn't like I can shift.
"You're Grimoire, aren't you?"
In between one blink and the next, they're now standing in front of , feet firmly planted against the ground and taller than before. How tall? Seven feet? Eight?
Are those flas I see flickering over their skin? Yes. Yes, those are.
Gone is the ethereal, androgynous being. In their place stands a towering figure, flas dancing across skin that seems both solid and intangible. His hair is as red as blood, his eyes an unnerving silver, and he's unmistakably male.
I keep my eyes on his face.
His hand shoots out, gripping my arm with surprising strength. I try to pull away, but his hold is unyielding.
"How did you know?" His voice, deep and undeniably masculine now, rumbles through .
I swallow hard, fighting the urge to struggle against his grip. "It seed pretty obvious in retrospect." My eyes dart to his face, taking in features that seem both ancient and ageless. "Why do you look and sound different now?"
A smile spreads across his face, transforming his stern expression into sothing almost warm. "You're simply seeing for who I am, Ava Grey."
I glance around, montarily distracted by the transformation of our surroundings. The clearing, once bordered by decay and darkness, now teems with vibrant life. Lush greenery stretches as far as I can see, pulsing with an energy that makes my skin tingle.
"Let go of ," I say, tugging at my arm again.
His grip doesn't budge. "I can't. I must maintain contact with you for the transfer."
That sounds a little unnerving. "Transfer? What transfer?"
I redouble my efforts to shake off his hand, twisting my arm and pushing against his chest with my free hand. It's like trying to move a mountain.
"Stop struggling," Grimoire says, his tone both commanding and oddly gentle. "You'll only hurt yourself."
"Then explain what's going on," I demand, forcing myself to stand still despite the panic creeping up my chest. "What transfer are you talking about?"
His eyes, now a swirling mix of silver and white, bore into mine. "The transfer of knowledge, of course. You ca seeking answers, did you not?"
I nod hesitantly, not entirely sure I like where this is going. "Yes, but—"
"Then be still and listen," he interrupts.
The urgency in his voice gives pause. I take a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart. "Okay. I'm listening."
Grimoire's expression softens. "Good. Now, close your eyes and open your mind. This may be uncomfortable."
A surge of energy courses through his hand into my arm. It's like being struck by lightning, every nerve in my body lighting up at once. I gasp, my knees buckling under the onslaught of sensation.
Grimoire's other arm wraps around my waist, supporting as images and information flood my mind. Centuries of magical knowledge, secrets long forgotten by the mortal world, pour into in a torrent I can barely comprehend.
I see the rise and fall of civilizations, the ebb and flow of magic throughout history. I witness the triumphs and failures of countless witches, wizards, and magical beings. Through it all, Grimoire's presence is a constant, observing and recording.
As quickly as it began, the transfer ends. I sag against Grimoire, my head spinning from the influx of information. "What... what was that?"
"A glimpse of what I am," he replies, his voice echoing strangely in my ears. "A fraction of what I've seen."
I blink, trying to focus on his face. The world seems sharper sohow, colors more vivid and textures more defined. There's an undeniable pull between us now, and the string within is thick and sturdy, filled with a warm presence that I now recognize as Grimoire.
He sets on my feet, though he keeps a steadying hand on my shoulder.
My head hurts.
It feels like it's splitting apart.
"Yes, it will be like that for a while. My apologies."
A sudden chill wracks my body with violent shivers. The warmth from earlier is gone, replaced by an icy cold deep in my bones.
Grimoire brushes a hand over my forehead, his brows tugging together in concern. "Your fever has worsened. I'm sorry, I should have been more careful."
My teeth chatter as I wrap my arms around myself, trying to step away from him, despite wanting to lean into the warmth of his body. "W-why did you do that without asking first, then?"
"You sought this bond, Ava. Did you not co here to connect with ?"
He looks like a wounded puppy.
Frustrated, I point out, "What bond? I was trying to summon a magic book, not bond with you. Whatever you are." He's old and magical, but he's definitely more than just a book.
Grimoire points between us, his finger tracing an invisible line. "Our souls are linked now. It's a profound connection, one that—"
"How many souls am I supposed to be linked to?" My voice is eerily calm, a stark contrast to the turmoil inside .
He looks offended, drawing himself up to his full height, which has now shrunk to a more normalized six-foot-sothing. "Are you bonded with others?"
"Selene and Lucas are the other pieces of my soul," I reply without hesitation.
Grimoire puffs out his chest, looking both proud and slightly miffed. "Well, I am now also a part of your soul. A rather important part, I might add."
I raise an eyebrow, recalling our first conversation. "I distinctly rember you saying Grimoire likes his peace. This doesn't seem very peaceful to ."
He rolls his eyes dramatically. "Who wants more peace and silence after hundreds of years of not being around another living soul? Certainly not ."
"I guess that makes sense," I mutter, still trying to wrap my head around this new developnt.
Grimoire's face lights up, a beaming smile spreading across his features, the new bond within humming with happiness. It's then that I truly understand—the feelings coursing through the new connection inside ? That's his true self. The sarcastic, grouchy exterior is just a facade.
Before I can process this revelation, Grimoire envelops in a bear hug. His warmth seeps into , chasing away so of the chill. "I've been so lonely," he sighs, his voice muffled against my hair. "I was worried a new master wouldn't care about ."
I stand frozen for a mont, unsure how to react. This overly affectionate side of Grimoire is unexpected, to say the least. Slowly, I bring my arms up to return the hug, patting his back awkwardly.
"Um, it's okay," I say, my voice slightly strained from the tight embrace. "I do care. I just wasn't expecting all of this."
Grimoire pulls back, his hands resting on my shoulders. His eyes, swirling with silver and white, search my face. "I apologize for the abruptness of our connection. I should have explained more before initiating the transfer."
I nod, still feeling a bit overwheld as I try to shove him a little further away. "Yeah, that would have been nice. So, what exactly does this connection an? What am I supposed to do now?"
He finally releases and takes a step back, though one of his hands grasp mine, swinging my hand between us in a childish fashion.
The standoffish spirit is a cuddlebug. Noted.
"The connection allows us to communicate more easily. You'll be able to access my knowledge and abilities, and I'll be able to guide you on your magical journey."
"But what about Selene and Lucas?" I ask, worry creeping into my voice. "Will this affect my bonds with them?"
Grimoire shakes his head. "No, this connection is different. It complents your existing bonds rather than competing with them. Think of it as adding another instrunt to an orchestra—it enhances the overall harmony without diminishing the other parts."
I can see it in his face. He wants to hug again, looking all pathetic and neglected.
Very much like a puppy.
It's like I've acquired a new pet. A lap dog, to be precise.
Sohow, I feel like I've bitten off a hell of a lot more than I can chew with this new bond of mine. "Okay. So, I have a magical book spirit linked to my soul now. That's normal, right?"
A chuckle escapes Grimoire's lips. "Normal is relative, especially in the magical world. But yes, for a witch of your potential, it's not uncommon to form such a bond."
"So…" I squint. "You are the book, right?"
He nods. "In simple terms, the book is one part of . A gift for the witches who yearned to understand the true nature of magic in the world."
"So when I go back, the book will be…?"
He frowns. "I'm right here."
"No. The actual, physical copy of the book. The one I've touched. Where will that be?"
"Oh." Looking thoughtful, he shrugs. "Anywhere you want to be? You can bring into existence at any ti. Though, I prefer this form. Being a book is quite boring. Nothing to see."
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