NOVEL NEXT Chapter 5: The preparation
The house smelled of dust and old magic, the air thick with expectation. Minus stood over Milliarde's body, her golden eyes gleaming as the flickering blue flames in her palms illuminated the still form beneath her. The elves had preserved her well—not with ice or human embalming, but with ancient rites that halted decay, leaving Milliarde as untouched by time as the village itself.
But preservation was not enough. A vessel was useless if it could not hold a soul.
Minus inhaled deeply and knelt beside the body, brushing a strand of silver hair from Milliarde's face. "You'll live again," she murmured, voice low and certain. "Through me."
The gathered elves stood in the doorway and along the perimeter of the house, silent observers to a ritual none dared interfere with. The elder, as always, was the only one bold enough to speak.
"You're truly set on this path," he said, his voice neither condemning nor encouraging.
Minus didn't look up. "Of course. The world already stole her once. It won't steal her again."
He exhaled through his nose. "You know the cost, then."
She smirked. "I'm not naïve. A body prepared for rebirth is nothing more than an empty shell until the soul takes root. And I…" She spread her fingers over Milliarde's chest, feeling the faint tingle of magic still bound to the flesh. "I haven't died yet."
The elder inclined his head. "Then this is merely preparation."
Minus closed her eyes, letting the fire in her veins spread outward. The runes she needed had already been chosen, ancient sigils of binding and containment. They flared to life beneath her hands, inscribing themselves into Milliarde's skin like scars of molten gold before cooling into eerie, glowing blue etchings.
The elves watching held their breath. None had ever seen such magic performed, not in centuries. The practice had been outlawed long ago, but Minus had never cared for rules meant to keep power locked away.
The body beneath her trembled as the magic took hold. The vessels were connected now—linked by fire and will.
But that was all she could do for now.
Minus sat back, exhaling slowly as she studied her work. The body was ready. It would not decay, nor would it reject her when the time came. But for now, it remained a husk, an empty shell waiting to be filled.
"When the moment comes," the elder said softly, "you will not be able to turn back."
Minus smiled, stretching her fingers as the fire coiled back into her palm. "I have no intention of turning back."
She rose, brushing the dust from her cloak.
"Let the humans try to kill me again," she said, voice like steel. "They'll only be ensuring my return."
The elves said nothing, but something had changed in their eyes. Awe. Fear. Belief.
Minus left the house without another word. Behind her, the body of Milliarde lay still, untouched by death's decay—waiting for the day its rightful soul would take its place.