(Catherine POV)
I sat by the fireplace in my chambers, the mysterious journal spread across my lap like evidence in a case I was finally ready to prosecute. The leather cover felt warm under my fingers, as if it held memories that still pulsed with life after whatever decades or centuries it had been hidden in that library alcove.
The afternoon light was fading, casting shadows that danced across pages filled with spidery handwriting and illustrations that seemed to move when I wasn't looking directly at them. I'd read portions of this journal three times now, but tonight felt different. Tonight, I wasn't just curious—I was hunting for answers to questions that had been multiplying like poison in my mind.
The transformation begins at sunset, read the passage I'd marked with a silk ribbo
