Nyx shifted on my shoulders. "There," he whispered.
I followed his gaze.
Three dead birds.
Sparrows.
Lying in the grass near a rose bush.
Perfect.
ABSOLUTELY perfect.
Nature provides.
I walked casually toward the rose bush where the dead birds lay.
Three sparrows.
Small. Delicate. Very dead.
Perfect for a demonstration.
I knelt beside them, and several nearby nobles glanced over curiously.
Good.
I WANT them watching.
I WANT witnesses.
I reached into my bag and pulled out the grimoire—Nyx the Malevolent's original grimoire, bound in black leather with shifting silver runes.
This is it.
This is the MOMENT.
No turning back now.
I opened the grimoire to the page I'd marked last night—the group reanimation spell. The words were written in Old Valdric, elegant and precise.
"Mortem revoco. Vitam nego. Umbra serviat."
I call upon death. I deny life. Let shadow serve.
A battlefield spell.
Designed to raise MULTIPLE corpses at once.
Efficient. Powerful. Absolutely TERRIFYING to witness.
I took a deep breath and placed my hand on the first bird.
Death.
I can feel it.
The absence. The void. The space where life used to be.
I began the incantation, my voice clear and steady.
"Mortem revoco."
The sky darkened.
What.
WHAT.
I looked up and the clouds were rolling in—thick, black, unnatural. Like the sun itself was being DEVOURED.
That's not supposed to happen.
That's not part of the spell.
That's—
The air grew cold. The temperature dropped so suddenly that I saw my breath mist in front of me, thick white clouds in the suddenly oppressive atmosphere.
Oh.
Oh FUCK.
The magic is responding to ME.
To what I REALLY am.
Around me, the flowers began to wilt. The roses near the bush turned black, their petals curling and dying as if touched by frost. The grass beneath my knees browned and withered.
The magic is spreading.
It's CORRUPTING everything it touches.
This isn't controlled.
This isn't PERFORMANCE.
This is—
I felt something stir inside me—recognition, not discovery.
My TRUE power.
My REAL self.
The chaos I've always been.
"Vitam nego."
My voice came out different. Deeper. Colder. Because I wasn't HIDING anymore.
This is what happens when I stop performing. When I channel what I ACTUALLY am instead of what I pretend to be.
The air became heavy—so heavy I could barely breathe. It pressed down on the garden like a physical weight, thick with the smell of DEATH and decay.
This is ME.
This is what my power looks like when I'm HONEST.
When I stop pretending to be controlled.
When I just... AM.
The first bird twitched. Then the second. Then the third.
I could feel my authentic nature flowing through the spell—unfiltered evil, genuine chaos, the darkness I KNOW I am.
And I LOVE it.
I love channeling this.
I love being REAL.
But they didn't rise gracefully.
They JERKED upright—violent, unnatural movements like puppets yanked by invisible strings.
Oh god.
Oh god, look at them.
Their eyes opened, glowing with that eerie purple light, but it wasn't elegant or controlled. It was WRONG. Unsettling. Like something that should be dead forcing itself to SEE.
And their bodies—
FUCK.
FUCK FUCK FUCK.
Rotting flesh hung in patches beneath their feathers. I could see bone—white skeletal structures visible through the decay. Their wings were tattered, torn, barely functional.
They smelled like DEATH.
The entire garden suddenly reeked of corruption—sweet, sickly, the smell of things that should be BURIED.
This isn't what I practiced.
This isn't what happened in the library.
This is WORSE.
This is REAL.
"Umbra serviat!"
The three birds launched into the air with jerking, stuttering movements—like something broken forcing itself to fly.
They circled above the rose bush, their movements WRONG, unnatural, horrifying.
I DID IT.
I ACTUALLY DID IT.
But not like I expected.
Not CONTROLLED.
Not BEAUTIFUL.
This is NIGHTMARE.
The garden went silent.
Completely, utterly silent.
Every conversation stopped. Every noble turned to stare—but not with curiosity or shock.
With HORROR.
Pure, genuine, visceral HORROR.
I saw Lady Margot's face go white as paper, her teacup slipping from her fingers and shattering on the ground. She looked like she might be SICK.
An older woman in a pink dress actually stumbled backward, her hand pressed to her mouth, eyes wide with terror.
They're not just surprised.
They're TERRIFIED.
They just watched me raise NIGHTMARES.
They just saw what I REALLY am.
Around the circling birds, the remaining flowers wilted completely—roses turning black, grass dying in spreading circles.
The magic won't STOP.
It's still spreading.
Still corrupting.
Because that's what I AM.
I stood up slowly, the grimoire still in my hand, and looked at the assembled nobles.
Look at them.
Look at their FACES.
They're not watching a performance.
They're watching something EVIL.
Something GENUINE.
"Apologies," I said, my voice still carrying that strange depth. "I was just... practicing."
Practicing.
I just raised three NIGHTMARES in the middle of a garden party.
I just showed them what I REALLY am.
And I—
I LOVE it.
One of the nobles—an older woman in a pink dress—actually backed away, her hand pressed to her chest, breathing hard.
"That's... that's dark magic," she whispered, and her voice was shaking.
Yes.
Yes, it IS.
But not the kind you READ about.
The kind you FEEL.
The kind that makes you realize you're standing next to something WRONG.
"It is," I said pleasantly. "House Raven specializes in dark magic. Surely you knew that?"
Of course they knew that.
But knowing it in THEORY is different from SEEING it.
From watching three corpses rise as NIGHTMARES.
From feeling the temperature drop and the air grow heavy with DEATH.
From smelling the CORRUPTION.
From realizing I didn't just raise the dead.
I raised HORROR.
Lady Margot finally found her voice. "Lady Isabel, I... I don't think..."
She trailed off, clearly unsure what to say.
What DO you say when your guest raises nightmares at your garden party?
Emily Post didn't cover THIS scenario.
"Thank you for the lovely tea," I said, closing the grimoire. "But I should be going. I have... other matters to attend to."
Other matters.
Like processing what just happened.
Like understanding what I just DID.
I walked toward the exit, the three undead sparrows still circling above me in their broken, jerking patterns.
Dramatic exit.
VERY dramatic exit.
But also—
That wasn't PERFORMANCE.
That was REAL.
Look at them all staring.
Look at them FROZEN.
They're not going to remember 'the day Isabel raised the dead.'
They're going to remember 'the day Isabel showed us what she REALLY is.'
And I—
I'm THRILLED.
Nyx's tongue flicked against my ear. "You're insane."
"I'm LEGENDARY," I corrected.
"You just committed magical heresy in front of thirty witnesses."
Yes.
Yes, I DID.
But more than that.
I showed them the TRUTH.
I showed them ME.
"They're all going to talk," Nyx continued. "The Church is going to hear about this. The royal family is going to hear about this."
"Good," I said.
That's the POINT.
I'm not hiding anymore.
I'm not PRETENDING anymore.
That spell—
That wasn't me PERFORMING villainy.
That was me BEING what I am.
The carriage was waiting, and I climbed inside, releasing the spell as soon as the door closed.
The three birds dropped from the sky, lifeless once more.
Sorry, sparrows.
You served your purpose.
You showed everyone what I REALLY am.
As the carriage rolled away from House Silvermere's estate, I looked out the window at the garden party I'd just ruined.
They're still standing there.
Still staring.
Still processing what just happened.
Perfect.
PERFECT.
Nyx shifted on my shoulders. "So. That happened."
"That happened," I agreed.
And it wasn't what I expected.
It was BETTER.
Because that wasn't performance.
That wasn't strategy.
That was just... ME.
My TRUE self.
My AUTHENTIC power.
The chaos I actually AM when I stop performing.
"You realize there's no going back now," Nyx said.
In front of thirty witnesses.
And instead of being HORRIFIED—
I'm INTOXICATED.
The Church is going to hear about this and they're going to LOSE IT.
Aldric is going to hear about this and he's going to realize I'm not some bored noble playing with dark magic—I'm CHAOS INCARNATE.
I'm GENUINE EVIL.
I'm not hiding anymore.
And that's either the smartest or dumbest thing I've ever done.
Probably both.
Definitely both.
Mother's going to be FURIOUS and also secretly proud and that's going to be HILARIOUS.
And Riku—oh god, Riku's going to hear about this and he's going to understand EXACTLY what I am.
My heart is still RACING.
I can feel the magic still humming under my skin like I just drank lightning.
And I'm just getting started.