Sally brushed the lingering ash from the fragile page. Her fingers trembled as though the parchment itself carried poison. She drew a steadying breath, lips moving as she began to read aloud.
Her voice was low, almost unwilling to disturb the cavern's silence.
"Hahaha… today is my lucky day. I found a book about the Crystal of Flesh. It explains how one might create such a crystal, and how to bend it to their will. After reading, I discovered the truth—this crystal can change into anything, permanently. Flesh, scale, bone… it matters not. But it requires mana… and a soul."
The ink grew heavier on the next line, pressed deep, as though carved by a hand consumed by desperation.
"Where do I find such a soul? A new one. A fresh one. Unspoiled by age or decay."
Sally's breath caught. She raised her eyes toward Leon, but he only motioned grimly for her to continue.
"The answer is simple. The children. They have what I need. Their essence is pure, untainted. If I sacrifice them, I can summon the soul required. With this ritual, the stone shall awaken, and I shall command its form. A beast… a dragon… anything I desire!"
The letters sprawled chaotically across the page, the edge of the parchment blurred by sweat or tears. Another note followed, scrawled into the margin:
"I must never touch it myself. Nor let any fool lay their hands upon it. One mistake, and it may lock its form forever—useless to me! No. I will wait. I will prepare. With dragon blood, with dragon flesh—my creation shall be born."
Sally's hands quivered as she turned the page. Her voice faltered, but she pressed on.
"The book speaks true. After many experiments, I found that what the crystal lacks is mana. But where, in this barren land, is there enough? Only one place comes to mind… the mana stone mine. Yes, that will be the source."
The handwriting degraded further, jagged strokes betraying frenzy.
"Hahaha! At last! I found the mine—and the dragon's belonging. Though it cherished it, some thief stole it and sold it on the black market. Now it is mine. With this, I will shape the crystal into a dragon. Its flesh, its strength, its immortality—all mine to command."
Leon's brow furrowed. His voice was low, grim. "So that was his aim. He came here for the mine. That was his key."
Sally nodded faintly and turned the brittle page.
"The ritual is almost ready. The children are prepared. Their souls will open the gate. The mana will flow into the stone. With the soul bound inside, I shall weave mind-control magic. Then it will obey me—think of me as its parent, for the soul is fresh and without memory. If it betrays me in the future due to unforeseen variables, I will strip it of emotion with runes. Then it will serve as my puppet. Finally… finally, my dragon will be born."
Her throat tightened. Each word felt like bile.
The last entry was worse.
"Hahaha! The sacrifice is complete! I have summoned the soul at last—but it is not what I expected. Its color is not blue like the others… it is purple. Pure… unique. Rare. Yes, yes! My dragon will be more powerful than I ever dreamed!"
The strokes cut violently into the parchment, the script more scar than ink. Sally's hands trembled as she turned to the final fragment.
The letters faltered, written in a desperate scrawl.
"I sealed the soul within the crystal. Now, before I use the dragon relic, I must inscribe the mind-control rune… but… no, no, no! Why does it fail? The sigil will not hold! The cave—why is it shaking? That sound… wings? The dragon—it has come! It must be the relic! No… not now… I must finish! I must—"
The words bled away mid-line, the quill dragged into emptiness.
Sally shut the diary with a sharp exhale.
Leon tilted his head. His expression was hard, unreadable. "That's it?"
She nodded, her shoulders weighed down. "Yes. No more words. This must have been when the dragon arrived… and killed him."
Leon's gaze swept the cavern with narrowed eyes. His voice carried steel. "If that's true, then his body should still be nearby. And the place where he performed the experiments—where he forged the crystal—must be close."
Sally's crimson eyes lingered on the jagged walls. The faint scent of smoke lingered still, as though time itself could not erase it. "Yes. He wouldn't have run far. Whatever he left behind… it's here."
They began searching. Their footsteps echoed hollowly through the cavern.
At first, the search yielded nothing—only broken stone, shattered scales, old blood dried black. But then Sally raised her hand. A faint light flared in her palm, runes spiraling outward.
The air rippled.
Illusion shattered.
A hidden door revealed itself in the rock.
Leon gave a low whistle. "No wonder it was never found."
Sally's lips curved in a grim line. "Illusion magic fools most… but not me."
They stepped through.
And froze.
The chamber beyond was lined with bodies. Small ones. No more than five years old. At least fifteen children, their forms preserved by enchantment, their faces frozen in eternal stillness.
The stench was faint but suffocating.
Sally staggered, hand to her mouth. Tears stung her crimson eyes. She forced herself to cast a calming charm, or else her legs would have collapsed beneath her.
Leon's jaw clenched. He whispered only one word: "We bury them."
Together, they worked in silence. They carried each body, laying them gently into shallow graves carved into the cavern floor. Sweat and grief mingled as they dug, earth and stone yielding reluctantly.
When the last mound was filled, Sally knelt. She clasped her trembling hands and whispered prayers, her voice breaking though her magic steadied it. Leon stood beside her, head bowed, his silence heavier than iron.
At last, they rose.
They destroyed the chamber, fire and stone magic tearing it down, sealing the horrors forever.
Then they returned.
Back to the crystal. Back to the child.
Only now did they truly look.
The child was a girl. Her face was soft, innocent, serene in slumber. Silver hair spilled across her shoulders, shimmering faintly as though still bound by crystal light. Her features bore echoes of both of them—Leon's sharpness, Sally's delicate grace.
She was beautiful. Innocent. Almost divine.
Sally's hand trembled as she reached, an instinctual longing to gather the child close.
But Leon caught her wrist. His eyes were hard, though sorrow flickered deep within.
"Not yet."
Her voice cracked. "Why?"
"We need to know what she is. Human… or something else. Sally, can you use analysis magic?"
She swallowed her fear and nodded.
Her staff glowed faintly. Threads of light spilled across the girl's small form, weaving into sigils that revealed truth.
And then—Sally gasped.
"Leon… she's human. Entirely human. But—she contains my DNA… and yours."
Leon's eyes widened. "Ours? How—?" His mind raced. Then understanding struck, grim and heavy.
"When you tended my wound… some of my blood must have lingered. When you touched the crystal, both our blood mixed. Weak as you were, you didn't notice. But the crystal did."
He stared at the child for a long, long moment. His voice softened. "So… what do we do now?"
Sally's eyes glistened. "Leon… why don't we adopt her? You feel it, don't you? She is ours now. Our blood, our bond. Alfred will be happy to have a sister."
Leon said nothing. He only looked down at the sleeping girl, his expression shadowed. Minutes passed before his shoulders eased.
And at last, his gaze softened too.