21. Ivy
21
IVY
The transformation isn’t as painful as I expected. Instead, it feels inevitable, like watching storm clouds gather before the first drop of rain falls. Everything in my existence—my life as a shifter, my death, my rebirth as Death, and even my relationships with Tate, Torin, and Bram—has led to this moment, pieces of a cosmic puzzle finally sliding into place with an almost audible click.
The void around me pulses with an ethereal rhythm, no longer the empty darkness I remember. Now, it ripples with shades of midnight blue and deep purple, occasionally shot through with threads of silver that remind me of lightning in storm clouds. The assembled Deaths watch as power flows into me, their forms flickering like candles in a wind that doesn’t exist. Not just Death magick now, or chaos magick, but something more fundamental. Life force mingles with the darkness, creating ribbons of energy that twist and writhe in impossible patterns. Where they meet, they create something entirely new - neither light nor dark but both, neither life nor death but something transcendent.
“You understand now,” Mazzarat says, his ancient form becoming translucent as more of the void’s power transfers to me. His edges blur like watercolours bleeding into parchment, his voice carrying the weight of millennia. “Why it had to be you.”
I do. A shifter who became Death. Someone who’s lived and died and lived again. Someone who understands both sides of existence in a way no one else ever has. The knowledge settles in my bones like winter frost, both chilling and clarifying.
“Life thinks she’s containing Death until she can steal Morrigan’s power,” I say, watching the energies swirl around me like a tornado in slow motion. Each strand of power has its own texture - death magick cool and smooth like silk, life force warm and vibrant like summer sunshine, chaos magick crackling with untamed potential. “She has no idea she’s actually accelerating her own destruction.”
“And your ascension,” David adds. His form is fading, too, becoming part of the growing power surrounding me. Where he stands, the void seems to bend and fold, reality itself making way for what’s coming.
“You’re all becoming part of this,” I gasp, watching as the other Deaths dissolve into pure energy. Their forms fractal and splinter, like breaking glass, each shard carrying centuries of memory and power. Some appear as ancient as time itself, others newer, but all of them flow toward me like rivers to an ocean. “Part of what I’m becoming.”
“We’re returning to the source,” Mazzarat explains, his voice growing distant, echoing as if from the bottom of a well. “All Deaths, all souls, all power - flowing together as it was always meant to.” His words resonate through the void, making the very fabric of reality shiver.
The void pulses with each transfer, growing stronger, more alive. The darkness takes on depth and texture, like black velvet under moonlight. This isn’t just about death anymore. It’s about the entire cycle of existence. Each pulse sends ripples through my consciousness, expanding my awareness beyond anything I thought possible.
I can feel it all now - every life, every death, every transformation in between. The natural order spreads before me like an infinite tapestry, threads of existence weaving together in patterns too complex for mortal minds to comprehend. It isn’t about separation, about drawing lines between this and that. It’s about flow. About balance. About the eternal dance between all things.
And Life, in her desperate attempt to control everything, has forgotten that most basic truth. Her fear has become a poison, corrupting the very essence she seeks to preserve.
I raise my hands, watching as light and darkness dance across my skin like aurora borealis in negative. The souls of the dead swirl around me in a tempest of memory and emotion, each one distinct yet part of a greater whole. I am not just their keeper anymore - I am becoming them, and they are becoming me. From the worst murderer in history to the innocent nun, they pour into me like water into the parched earth. Each brings its flavour to the power growing within me - the sharp tang of violence, the sweet nectar of compassion, the bitter ash of regret, and the bright spark of joy.
The chaos magick that runs through my veins proves to be the perfect foundation for this metamorphosis. Like bedrock beneath a mountain, it holds steady as power builds and builds. The realisation doesn’t surprise me - chaos has always been about potential, about the space between what is and what could be. It’s the perfect crucible for this new form of existence.
The remaining souls draw closer, their whispers a symphony of anticipation. Some sound like wind through autumn leaves, others like distant thunder, and still others like the last breath of a dying star. They know what’s coming. What has to happen next.
But first, I have to complete this transformation. Have to become what the universe needs me to be. The power surges through me in waves now, each one bringing new understanding. Every wave has its own character - some crash like ocean breakers, others slide like silk across skin, still others burn like fever or freeze like arctic wind.
I see flashes of lives lived and lost, each memory crystal clear yet somehow distant, like watching through ancient glass. A mother holding her newborn child, love radiating from her like sunlight. A soldier taking his last breath on a battlefield, his blood mixing with mud as thunder rolls overhead. A couple growing old together, their lives intertwining like ivy on a trellis. A child lost too soon, their potential hanging in the air like unsung music. Joy and pain, beginnings and endings, all of it flowing into me, becoming part of me. Each memory carries its own weight, its own lesson about the delicate balance between life and death.
My connection to Tate flares up, the soul mark on my lower back burning with an intensity that would have brought me to my knees in my old form. Now, it feels like a compass needle finding true north, reminding me of what’s at stake. Our fated bond, which transcended death itself, pulses in time with the void’s rhythm. The connection shows me how life and death could intertwine, become something more than just opposing forces - like two strands of DNA spiralling together to create something new.
Thoughts of Bram and Torin surface in my mind, their faces crystal clear against the swirling chaos. The sacrifice ritual that brought me back left visible scars on them that changed their essence, those are what truly matter. Their willingness to give everything, to risk their very existence, showed me the true meaning of both life and death.
The power continuing to flow into me takes on new dimensions. Each soul brings not just memory and power, but understanding. I feel the weight of centuries, of millennia, pressing against my consciousness. The knowledge of ancient Deaths mingles with the fresh perspective of newly departed souls. Kings and beggars, saints and sinners, their experiences blend together perfectly.
The void itself seems to breathe now, expanding and contracting with my transformation. What was once empty space now teems with potential. Colours that have no names in any human language ripple through the darkness. The boundaries between life and death, between being and non-being, blur and reshape themselves around me.
I can sense Life’s desperation now, her fear radiating across dimensions like heat from a dying star. Her frantic attempts to save herself echo through the fabric of reality, creating discordant ripples in the natural order. But she doesn’t understand the fundamental truth that’s becoming clearer to me with each passing moment: you can’t cling to power and expect to evolve. You have to let go, to transform, to become something new. Like a butterfly emerging from its chrysalis, change requires surrender.
As the final waves of energy wash over me, I feel my transformation nearing completion. The power settles into my new form like water finding its level, filling every space, every crevice of my being. My consciousness expands beyond the boundaries of what I once thought possible, encompassing aspects of existence I never knew existed. The void’s pulse synchronises with mine until I can no longer tell where I end, and it begins.
Soon I’ll have to leave this space between spaces, step out of the void and into a role the universe has never seen before. The thought sends ripples of anticipation through the souls that now make up my being. I only hope the world is ready for what I’ve become, for this new force that bridges the gap between life and death.
Because I’m no longer just Ivy, or even just Death. I am the cycle itself - birth, life, death, and rebirth united in one being. Every soul that has ever lived or died is part of me now, their experiences and wisdom flowing through me like blood through veins. The chaos magick that once seemed so dangerous now serves as the perfect foundation for this new form of existence, strong enough to contain multitudes, flexible enough to adapt to whatever comes next.
With that thought, I gather my new powers around me like a cloak made of starlight and shadow. The void pulses one final time, acknowledging what I’ve become, what we’ve all become together. As I prepare to emerge and face whatever awaits in the world beyond, I feel neither fear nor hesitation, only certainty and purpose.