Ritual of Unbinding

The room was dimly lit, the flickering glow of candles casting long shadows across the walls. In the center was the salt circle, carefully drawn, its boundaries holding an air of finality. Jade stood over a wooden flask, its surface engraved with intricate, ancient patterns that seemed to pulse with their own life.

She gestured for us to stand on opposite sides of the circle. A deep gash was opened in the center of each of our palms, and the crimson stream of our blood dripped into the flask. The mingling of our life essence felt symbolic—two lives connected, now about to be severed.

Once the flask was filled, Jade uncorked a smaller vial and poured its contents into the blood mixture. The liquid turned a dark, viscous red, its surface swirling as though alive. “It’s parrot’s blood,” she explained, her voice low and full of respect, as though she spoke to the room itself.

She began to chant, her words foreign and ancient, their meaning lost to time but their power unmistakable. The a