Void's Arc

Chapter 1 of 3

Void turned the page with steady fingers, careful not to tear the brittle edge. He had spent three months searching for texts on soul-binding. Most were fragments. Others contradicted themselves within a single paragraph. This one was different. The binding ritual spread across two pages in precise diagrams and clear instructions. He read the passage three times to be certain. The ritual required two people. One to bind. One to anchor. Both had to stand in marked positions and speak the words together. Without the anchor, the binding would collapse inward. The book made it clear in bold script: the anchor must be willing. Void closed the tome and carried it outside. Snow crunched under his boots as he walked into the clearing. He set up the ritual table exactly as the diagrams showed. Candlesticks at the four corners. The book open in the center. Then he knelt and drew the pentagram in the snow with charcoal, each line precise. He stood inside the circle and looked at the empty space across from him. The ritual was complete except for one thing. He had no one to ask. The hunger stirred in his chest, wrong as always, and he understood what the book had given him. Not a solution. A new problem.