A Broken Inheritance

Chapter 49: The Diary of Edouard Marchant

+

August 29, 1681
Normandy, Voclain Estate

There is something wrong with the house.

The servants do not say it aloud, but I see the way they move—quietly, carefully, never lingering in the hallways for too long, never looking too closely at the shadows that stretch just a little too far at night.

And Selene—

Selene feels it.

She would never admit it, of course. But I see the way she stills when she walks past certain doorways. The way her breath hitches when the wind howls too fiercely through the corridors.

Today, I caught her standing by the great window in the east wing, staring out at the sea. Her expression was unreadable, but her hands—her hands were clenched into fists at her sides.

I asked her what she was thinking.

"The wave returns to the ocean," she murmured, her voice distant. "And the cliffs endure."

She looked at me then, something unreadable in her gaze. "Do you understand?"

I did not answer.

But I think, perhaps, I did.

+

September 1st, 1681
Voclain Estate

Sanguis Magicae is, at its core, a contradiction.

Unlike traditional magic, which is channeled through wands, incantations, and deliberate practice, blood magic operates on a far more primal scale—one that defies the structured teachings of our institutions. It is not learned in a classroom, nor can it be properly tested under controlled conditions.

The mechanics of it remain elusive. Theories abound, but few—if any—can be substantiated with direct evidence. This, I suspect, is due in part to the nature of the magic itself. It is not something that can be performed on command, nor does it adhere to the fundamental principles of spellwork.

What I know is this:

1. Blood magic does not require a wand. I have now seen it performed without one.

2. Blood magic does not require incantation. It is not spoken into existence—it is willed.

3. It is neither inherently light nor dark, but rather an extension of the wielder's state of mind.

This third point intrigues me most.

If blood magic is tied to will, then it stands to reason that it is influenced as much by emotion as by intent. Unlike traditional spellwork, which relies on strict mental discipline and control, blood magic seems to be amplified by the emotional state of the caster.

Fear. Anger. Desperation.

It is no coincidence that records of blood magic often align with periods of great personal or political turmoil. There are accounts of entire villages vanishing, of unnatural storms conjured from the bodies of the dying, of men who bled in battle and wrought devastation before succumbing to their wounds.

Yet, despite the many tales of destruction, there are also stories of healing—of wounds closing instantly, of men on the brink of death restored by a single touch, of spells cast through shared blood, unbreakable by even the strongest counter-charms.