Chapter 118: I can't wait.
~Raphael's POV~
I opened my eyes slowly, the harsh light from the magical lanterns in the room stinging them as I blinked away the haziness of sleep.
My body felt heavy like I was swimming through thick mud just to move a finger. Something was missing, so I searched the chamber. The lantern. It was gone.
I bolted upright, ignoring the pain that shot through my muscles and continued to scan the room frantically.
The lantern that had held Ava's voice was gone from my bedside. Cold panic washed over me as I threw off the covers and swung my legs over the edge of the bed.
"Where is it?" I muttered, searching the floor, the nearby table, everywhere within reach. Nothing.
A creeping doubt began to take hold of me. Had I imagined the whole thing? The lantern, Ava's voice coming from it, the conversation with Grey about becoming... something else?
"Was it real? Or just another trick of my mind?" I asked aloud, running my hands through my hair. Had I finally gone mad?
It wouldn't be the first time my mind had played tricks on me since bonding with Grey. The line between reality and delusion had grown thinner with each passing day.
"Maybe I have finally lost my grip on sanity," I continued, pacing the room now. "First, I hear Grey in my head telling me I was now a god, now I start seeing things that aren't there, and now I'm having full conversations with a lantern?"
I laughed bitterly at myself. The stress of everything, losing Ava, going into the Rift, fighting the Ancient One, was bound to take its toll eventually. Perhaps this was just my breaking point.
As these thoughts flooded through my mind, something unexpected happened. A warm flame suddenly came out in my right hand.
I looked down, startled, to find the very lantern I'd been searching for resting in my palm, its soft glow blinking gently like a heartbeat.
I stared at it in disbelief, turning it over in my hands, feeling its solid weight and the warmth coming from it.
"Maybe I wasn't imagining things after all," I whispered, a mixture of relief and confusion flooding through me.
The door to my chamber opened with a soft creak, and Drogon entered. His tall frame filled the doorway as he regarded me with those piercing golden-red eyes that always seemed to see more than they should.
He moved with the quiet grace of someone who had lived for centuries; well, realistically speaking, he has lived for thousands of centuries now.
"How are you feeling?" he asked, his voice calm and steady as he approached my bedside.
I set the lantern down carefully before answering. "Groggy... but better," I admitted, running a hand over my face. "I had the strangest dream, Drogon. At least, I think it was a dream."
Drogon pulled up a chair and sat down, his expression neutral. He didn't interrupt; he just nodded for me to continue.
"I was in darkness, complete and absolute," I began, the details becoming clearer as I spoke. "Then I saw Grey, but he wasn't as I remembered him. He was... In his human form. There was this blinding light pouring out of him, and he was reaching toward me, saying we needed to become one to survive."
As the memory of the dream poured in, I felt a strange sensation in my hands. A tingling that quickly grew to a burning.
Looking down, I was horrified to see my fingernails extending into sharp claws, and flames, actual flames, beginning to dance across my palms just like earlier.
"What the..." I gasped, staring at the fire that was somehow not burning my skin. The more alarmed I became, the higher the flames leapt, spreading up my forearms.
"Raphael... what are you doing?" Ava's voice suddenly called from the lantern, her tone concerned but gentle.
The sound of her voice acted like a balm on my anxious nerves. I took a deep breath, feeling my heartbeat slow and my panic subside. With deliberate effort, I closed my fists, and to my amazement, the fire extinguished itself.
I watched in fascination as my claws gradually retracted, leaving normal human fingernails in their place.
Throughout this entire display, Drogon had remained seated, watching me with an unsurprised expression that told me he knew exactly what was happening.
"You knew," I said accusingly. "You knew this would happen."
Drogon finally broke his silence. "Yes," he confirmed simply. "These changes were inevitable once you stepped into the Rift."
"Explain," I demanded.
Drogon leaned forward slightly. "The Rift is a bridge between realms, Raphael. It's connected to the God Realm, what you call the Third Realm. You are from the Second Realm, the realm of mortals with magical abilities. By entering the Rift, you broke the barrier that was keeping Grey confined within you."
I tried to process this information. "So... what happened to me in there?"
"Your body fused with Grey's divine powers while fighting the Ancient One," Drogon explained. "Your mana, your life force, your very essence, everything merged with Grey's sacred abilities. That fusion is the only reason you survived the Rift at all. Anyone else would have been destroyed instantly."
"And the side effects?" I asked, already suspecting the answer as I glanced down at my hands.
"You're more powerful than you've ever been," Drogon said gravely. "But that power is linked to your emotions, making you dangerously unstable until you learn to control it."
I absorbed this information slowly, trying to come to terms with what it meant for me...for us. "So I'm not imagining things. Grey and I really have... merged?"
"Yes," Drogon confirmed. "You are still Raphael, but you are also Grey now. Two entities sharing one form, with one dominant consciousness, yours."
"So these powers, the fire, they're mine now?" I flexed my fingers, remembering the sensation of flames dancing across my skin.
"They are," Drogon nodded. "But they come with great responsibility and great risk. Until you learn to control your emotions, you'll cause more harm than you ever did. And if you do..." he paused, his expression growing more serious. "The gods of the Third Realm might come for you."
If I couldn't control these new powers, I would be seen as a threat by beings far more powerful than myself.
I needed to change the subject before anxiety triggered another unwanted transformation. "What about Ava?" Wrong subject. But, I needed to know. I picked up the lantern gently. "When will she return to her body?"
Drogon's expression softened slightly at the mention of Ava. "I've been working on healing her physical form," he said. "The Fae magic used on her is deeply rooted and difficult to break. Even Eloisa, with all her strength and skill, has struggled against it."
My heart sank at his words, but then Drogon surprised me with a rare smile.
"However, I do have good news," he continued. "Her body is healed completely. All that remains is the final ritual...to summon her soul back into it."
My face must have lit up with hope because Drogon quickly held up a hand.
"The ritual isn't simple," he cautioned. "And it will require your participation. But first, you must gain control over your new abilities. In your current state, you could jeopardize the entire process."
"I can't wait to see her again," I began, already imagining holding Ava in my arms once more.
Drogon cut me off firmly. "Worry about yourself first. You're not done yet, Raphael. Far from it."
I sighed, knowing he was right. "How long do I have to learn control?"
"Not long," Drogon replied. "The next full moon would be ideal for the ritual. That gives you twelve days."
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