What an arse

Lyra's POV

The room was empty, but the air was thick with anticipation as I stood before the ancient coffin. My mother, Ferdinand, and Bruce stood behind me, their expressions a mix of hope and trepidation.

Knowing how sensitive the situation was, I braced myself as I stepped forward, the cold stone floor sending chills up my spine. I carefully placed the resurrection stone on a circle etched into the coffin.

With unsteady hands, I brought a knife to my palm and drew a deep incision, allowing my blood to drip onto the stone, causing it to sizzle and emit a radiant red light. My eyes began to glow as I chanted ancient Latin words, my voice trembling with a mixture of fear and determination.

As the ritual reached its climax, the stone on the coffin transitioned from a fierce red to a brilliant, blinding white. In an instant, the stone vanished, and a tumultuous surge of light shot up through the roof, illuminating the night sky outside.

In the wake of the brilliant display, a man mater