25. Ivy
25
IVY
The void has become a living thing around me, no longer just a container for souls, but an extension of what I’m becoming. Each beat of power brings new understanding, new connections forming between concepts that were never meant to touch. Life and death, beginning and ending, they’re not opposites anymore but parts of the same infinite circle.
The remaining Deaths have almost completely dissolved now, their ancient power merging with mine. Their knowledge flows through me like rivers joining an ocean. Mazzarat’s millennia of watching civilisations rise and fall, David’s understanding of modern death in all its complexity, countless others adding their wisdom to the whole.
But there’s something else happening, something I can feel through the chaos magick that forms my foundation. Three distinct energies thump in sync with my transformation, anchoring me to the physical world even as I transcend it. Tate, Bram, and Torin. They are each undergoing their own metamorphosis, becoming what they need to be for what comes next.
The fated mark connecting me to Tate burns like a supernova, but now I understand it’s more than just a link between fated souls. It’s a prototype for what’s coming. Proof that the boundaries between life and death were never as solid as everyone believed.
I watch as new colours bloom in the void, impossible shades that reflect the merging of opposing forces. This is what Life never understood. She couldn’t understand that true power comes not from control, but from synthesis. From allowing seemingly contradictory things to coexist and create something new.
The souls around me sing with anticipation as the transformation reaches its peak. We’re approaching the moment when everything changes, when the universe itself must adapt to accommodate what I’m becoming.
But first, there’s one more truth I need to understand.
The realisation comes like dawn breaking over dark waters. Life’s desperate grab for power isn’t just about control or fear. She’s trying to prevent what she sees as the ultimate corruption: the mixing of life and death. But in doing so, she’s become the very thing she fears. Her attempt to remain pure, to keep death separate and contained, has twisted the natural order far more than any blending of forces ever could.
I feel now, through the countless souls merged with mine, the way things should be. Death isn’t meant to be an ending, just as life isn’t meant to be a beginning. They’re points on a circle, flowing into each other like seasons, like breath, like tides. The separation was artificial all along, a construct born of fear and misunderstanding. All these souls are waiting. Waiting for their second chance. Their rebirth. Many cultures believe in reincarnation, and they were right. This is the way forward. You don’t get one chance. You get many. You get a chance to grow and be a better being. Not that it is a given. No one will remember who they once were. Okay, maybe some will, but it’s a choice. A completely unaffected choice that you will make as you grow up. Yes, evil will still exist, and yes, some, probably many of these souls, will be reborn and do evil things again. But some won’t. They will atone, even if they are unaware of it.
A tremor runs through the void, and I sense something massive shifting in the fabric of this reality. Through my connection to the others, I feel their ritual reaching its crescendo. Their transformations are nearly complete, creating anchor points for whatever I’m becoming. The geometry of existence itself flexes and reshapes around us.
“It was never about choosing between life and death,” I say into the swirling darkness. My voice carries the weight of countless souls now, a chorus of understanding built from every death that’s ever been. “It was about transcending that choice entirely.”
The void pulses in response, and I feel the last pieces of my transformation clicking into place. The chaos magick in my veins has become something else - not order, exactly, but a deeper kind of chaos. The kind that births stars and shapes galaxies. The kind that holds the potential for everything. The kind that will release the oldest of these souls to go and live again.
My hair whips around me as the power builds like a storm about to break, and I know with sudden clarity what needs to happen next. Life thinks she’s winning, thinks she’s close to containing death forever. She has no idea she’s about to face something that exists beyond her understanding of either.
I gather myself, feeling the weight of all I’ve become. It’s time to show her - and everyone else - what true balance looks like.
The void holds its breath, waiting.
The souls within me shift and stir with the knowledge that some of them will soon be set free again, their collective energy taking on a different quality now that they understand. They’re not just memories or remnants of who they were. They are potential waiting to be known again. Some have waited centuries, millennia even, for this chance.
A medieval peasant who died of plague dreams of modern medicines. A warrior from ancient times imagines a world where conflicts are resolved with words instead of swords. A child lost too soon yearns for another chance to grow. Their hopes and desires weave through me like golden threads in a tapestry of darkness.
“You’ll forget,” I whisper to them, tears pricking my eyes as I feel their excitement, their fear. “You’ll start fresh, clean slates with new chances. But who you were, what you learned, it will shape who you become, even if you don’t remember why.”
The souls ripple with understanding. Some souls draw closer, eager for their turn, while others drift back, content to wait longer. There’s no rush now. This isn’t an ending anymore, but a waypoint. A chance to rest, reflect, and choose when to begin again.
Through my connection to the physical world, I feel the ritual’s power peak. Tate, Bram, and Torin are becoming something new, something that can help shepherd this transformation. They’ll be the first to understand, to help others understand, that death isn’t a wall but a door.
The power builds to impossible levels, reality bending around what I’m becoming. Life thinks she’s closing death’s door forever, but she’s about to learn that you can’t stop a cycle. You can only choose to be part of it.
I reach out with my new awareness, feeling the boundaries between life and death blur and reshape themselves.
It’s time.
The moment stretches like an infinite breath as I gather the ancient power within me. The souls quiver and swirl, their collective energy building until the void itself seems to vibrate with anticipation. I can feel each one of them and their hopes, their regrets, their desperate desire for another chance.
“Be free,” I whisper, and with a gesture that feels as natural as breathing, I begin to release them.
They stream outward like a river of starlight, each soul a distinct point of luminescence in the darkness. Some shoot upward like comets, trailing memories behind them like stardust. Others drift like dandelion seeds on a summer breeze, taking their time, savouring the moment of transition. Colours paint the void in their passing: a deep blue of ancient wisdom, a bright gold of newfound hope, a soft silver of second chances.
A vampire queen who ruled for centuries streams past, her essence crackling with both darkness and the potential for something different. An ancient werewolf alpha who died protecting his pack brushes against my consciousness, his fierce spirit already yearning for a new form. Lilith, the dark witch who dabbled too deep in forbidden magick, dissolves into pure energy, her knowledge and power dispersing like smoke on the wind, ready to be reborn.
They aren’t all seeking redemption. Some souls pulse with the same darkness that marked their previous existence, their fierce nature unchanged by death. A demon lord’s essence burns hot and violent as it passes, their power seeking a new vessel to inhabit. Others carry the weight of centuries of supernatural politics and power plays, their ambitions undimmed by death.
But even the darkest among them now carry the possibility of change, whether they choose to take it or not. The head of an ancient vampire coven streaks by, their calculated cruelty tempered now with the faintest glimmer of possibility. A fallen fae warrior’s spirit glows with both ancient magick and fresh purpose.
They flow outward in waves, generations of souls finding their way to new beginnings.
The void fills with their joy, their terror, their wild hope. The sound of their passing is like every piece of music ever written playing at once - a symphony of existence itself.
As the last wave of this round of souls dissipates, I feel the void fall away. The ritual space pulls at me, calling me to where Tate, Bram, and Torin wait. Their energy signatures burn like beacons through the darkness, transformed but familiar.
I materialise in the clearing, my feet touching solid ground for the first time since my transformation began. My guys have changed as I have. Bram’s wild nature is now fully realised, Tate marked by fate in ways that go far deeper than skin, Torin radiating a power that bridges multiple realities.
The air around us shimmers with the aftereffects of both transformations - theirs and mine. Released souls continue to stream overhead, visible now in the physical world as streaks of light across the night sky, like a meteor shower of second chances.
I look down at my hands, seeing the power that courses through me made manifest. My skin glows with shifting patterns that tell the story of every death and rebirth since time began. My hair floats around me, each strand containing galaxies of possibility.
“Ivy?” Tate’s voice breaks the silence, filled with awe. The marks across his skin ripple in response to my presence.
I meet his gaze, knowing that my eyes now hold the infinite depths of the void itself and the warmth of countless new beginnings.
“I understand now,” I say, my voice carrying echoes of all the souls that had been part of me. “We all get another chance. Again and again, until we get it right.”
Above us, the souls continue their journey, lighting up the night with the promise of renewal. Life’s power pulses against the edges of reality, but it feels distant now, almost irrelevant in the face of this greater truth.
The cycle hasn’t just been restored - it’s been transformed, and we’re all part of it, whether we remember or not.