The Forgotten Pulse of the Bond-Chapter 37: Magnolia Finds the Last Page

Camille sat in silence beneath the narrow window of her holding chamber, watching the gray light of morning stretch across the floor in quiet ribbons. She hadn’t spoken since the mirror. The echo of the girl’s voice still trembled beneath her ribs. It hadn’t just been a reflection it had been a door. A gate to something she wasn’t sure she was ready to face. And yet, she had walked through it. She had come back changed. Not completely whole, but closer. Her thoughts, once fractured by dreams and false memories, were beginning to thread together into something solid. Familiar. Dangerous.

The door creaked open behind her, but she didn’t flinch. Only one person entered without asking.

Magnolia closed the door softly behind her and crossed the chamber without speaking. Her boots tapped lightly across the stone, and she carried a cloth-wrapped bundle in her arms. Camille watched her approach but didn’t move, even when Magnolia sat beside her, unwrapping the bundle with care. Pages. Old and cracked. Handwritten in dark, iron-rich ink. Camille’s heart clenched before her eyes had even begun to scan the text.

"They kept this from us," Magnolia said. Her voice was low, careful, as though she didn’t want to startle what little calm they’d found. "I found it buried beneath Elara’s private archives. Under a ward, wrapped in blood-bound seals. If I hadn’t been looking for something else, I wouldn’t have found it." She didn’t rush. She didn’t force Camille’s hand to move. She simply placed the final page in her lap and waited.

Camille read slowly. Her fingers traced the ink like it might smear. Her name was there Camille Voss, listed as Subject 4. A note beside it: Reclaimed under new designation. Bond-stable. Memory suppression successful. Her breath caught. Her pulse pounded louder than it should have, and her mouth felt dry. Her gaze moved up the page.

Subject 1: status unknown. Subject 2: deceased. Subject 3: unstable. Camille closed her eyes.

"They made us," she whispered.

"They made you," Magnolia corrected. "But you are not what they made."

The words should have comforted her. But Camille wasn’t sure she believed them yet. She had seen the gate. The bones. The runes that pulsed in her blood. She had heard her own scream reflected in another’s mouth, had seen her own face smiling back with malice. Subject 1 was still alive. Somewhere in the world. Perhaps here. Perhaps close. The thought settled in her chest like ice. fɾeeweɓnѳveɭ.com

Magnolia watched her carefully. "You’re not the only survivor. But you are the only one that chose not to run."

Camille’s hands curled into fists around the page. "I didn’t choose this."

"No," Magnolia said. "But you chose to come back. To stay. That’s more than anyone ever asked of you."

The silence that followed was heavy but no longer suffocating. Camille rose slowly, her joints stiff, her thoughts sharper. "We need to go to the mirror," she said.

Magnolia didn’t ask why. She only stood and nodded.

They left the Keep under the silence of pre-dawn, cloaked in shadows and the hush of fresh snow. Beckett waited at the far gate, saying nothing as he handed over a dagger with a bone handle, a symbol carved into the hilt that Camille hadn’t seen since the cradle. He didn’t ask what they planned to do, and she didn’t offer. Some truths lived in silence. This one would grow in it.

The mirror still stood where they’d last seen it, cracked but pulsing faintly. Not broken. Only waiting.

Camille stepped forward and placed her palm against the glass. The cold stung, then vanished. The surface rippled like a lake, and in a single breath, she was gone.

Magnolia pressed her hand to the mirror. It shimmered but didn’t part.

"She has to do this alone," Beckett said quietly.

"She shouldn’t have to," Magnolia replied, her voice brittle.

Inside the mirror, Camille walked into a world lit by memory. The ground shimmered like oil over water, the air thick with voices that came not from mouths, but from bone. Her own memories weaved through the space like threads, pulling at her ribs, drawing her deeper. And at the center stood the girl.

Not a child now. Not even a copy. A mirror yes but not of flesh. A soul fractured in half and left to grow wild in the space beyond time.

"You came back," the girl said.

"I needed to know."

"To know what?"

"What I am."

The girl tilted her head. "You already know."

Camille didn’t flinch. "I need you to say it."

"You’re a gate."

"I’m a person."

"You’re both."

The gate rose behind the girl. Bone. Blood. Light.

"You were made to open it."

"I was made to live," Camille whispered.

The girl stepped closer. "Then live. But take me with you."

"What happens if I do?"

The girl smiled. "We become whole."

The light surged.

Camille reached out.

Their palms touched.

Pain. Memory. Power. A scream. A lullaby. A thousand nights locked in dreams.

Camille gasped as her lungs pulled in air that felt real again.

And she woke up.

She was back in the chamber, on the floor, breathing hard. Magnolia knelt beside her, holding her hands.

"You’re okay," Magnolia whispered.

Camille shook her head. "No. I’m not. But I will be."

"What did you see?"

Camille’s eyes darkened. "I saw Subject 1."

Magnolia didn’t move.

"She’s alive."

"Do you know where?"

Camille nodded once.

"She’s already inside the Keep."

The stone walls of the council chamber echoed with rising voices as word of Camille’s escape from the lower levels began to spread. The Elders gathered quickly, their footsteps hard against the flagstone, veils fluttering as they demanded control, answers, silence. Elara stood at the edge of the circle, her arms folded, watching the chaos unfold with a tight expression. Beckett arrived next, eyes scanning the chamber before finding her.

"They’re preparing to open the vault," he said quietly.

"They think she’s already broken it," Elara replied.

"Has she?"

"I don’t know," Elara said. "But I know she isn’t finished."

Camille didn’t return to the Keep through the main gate. She came through the north passage, cloaked in shadow, her pulse calm. Magnolia walked beside her, the memory of the gate still etched across their bond. Every step brought her closer to something she couldn’t name.

They didn’t speak.

Not until they reached the door.

Behind it waited the seal stone. The first one she ever touched. The one that hadn’t burned beneath her hand, but hummed, like it recognized its maker.

Camille stepped through and paused at the edge of the chamber.

There, standing in front of the seal, was a girl.

Younger. Pale. Familiar.

Subject 1.

She turned slowly.

Camille didn’t draw a weapon.

Neither did the girl.

They stared at each other in the flickering torchlight.

"I wondered how long it would take you," Subject 1 said.

"I should’ve known it would be here."

"You always did like circles," she said with a faint smile.

Camille’s voice didn’t tremble. "Why are you here?"

"To finish what they started."

"I’m not going to let you."

"You don’t have a choice."

Magnolia stepped into the room.

The girl looked at her.

"So she’s the reason."

"She’s the reason I’m still human," Camille said.

The girl’s eyes hardened.

"Then let’s see how human you still are."

The gate behind her began to open.