The hallways were silent, safe for the occasional sounds of nervous footsteps as children strolled into their rooms, locking the doors behind them.
Leaning against the wall, Ayil watched them plod about as if following an unspoken curfew. It was about an hour or two after dinner. And yet, there was barely any security monitoring the walls.
So far, he only saw three staff members loiter through the hallway, and they seemed to be heading to the basement levels.
"...Looks like you could've snuck to my room without issue," Ayil said, moving into his quarters, sitting on the couch. "The security's extremely lax."
"Oh? How peculiar," Eira said from behind the bathroom door, her voice flat. She walked out, drying her damp head of hair. "Well, that barely matters, right? I still have to read to you."
Ayil gaped at her outfit, stupified. The white nightgown fell to her calves and was patterned with multicolored flowers. Frills, tassels, and laces rustled audibly as she walked to the bed. Not only was the thing incredibly impractical, but it also looked uncomfortable to sleep in. What was the point in sewing together something that ridiculous?
He ignored that question, for now, opening his mouth to address the main issue...
"I know," Eira purred slyly, lifting a finger, then grabbing a copy of The Final Rapture from the bedstand. "I'm not going to our 'trail harvest' dressed like this. We're moving in three hours, correct? So let me read to you in comfort."
"...Of course," Ayil said, brows twitching. He took a deep breath, trying not to give her satisfaction of seeing him irritated. "Actually, I was thinking you could teach me a thing or two about Kallomancy before we touch on the book."
"...All right," she said, gesturing for him to move closer. "How much do you know about the arcane?"
"Practically nothing," he answered honestly, narrowing the distance between them. He sat cross-legged a few inches in front of her.
"That makes things a little more difficult to explain," Eira said, gently bobbing her head side to side. "However, I'm certain you vaguely remember what that woman showed us, yes?"
He shook his head stiffly. 'Remember' was a strong word; his cognitive ability simply didn't have the capacity to store the streams of information and concepts the Arlath plunged him into.
Noticing this, Eira exhaled softly. "...It's fine. I'll just teach you the very basics," she said, her gaze sharpening. "For now. True Kallomancy will be impossible for you at this stage."
An odorless black fog permeated the room, slowly coalescing to created a formless cloud. It smoothened and thinned, taking the shape of a crescent.
"Do that," she said softly. "Or something similar. Anything that matches your style is fine, really."
Ayil waited patiently for an explanation. There was no such thing. "How?" he finally asked. "Are there any rules? Advice would be appreciated, also."
"Rules?" she echoed, the curved blade she conjured spinning slowly above her head. "At this level? No, not really. 'How'? Depends. Feel what's right. Do what you did as you lay dying. As for advice: Try not to absorb KalloSyth."
'Do what I did back then?' Ayil thought, furrowing his brows. At that moment, KalloSyth had revealed Himself. That was the first time such a thing happened while he wasn't fast asleep. He took a deep breath. 'Then, why not just call on it? What was it they called it...? Willing.'
But how?
He took a step back mentally, trying to remember the feeling KalloSyth gave him. It was always perpetual as if claiming the world as His.
Then... just as Eira demonstrated, was It floating around just beyond his visual perception. He closed his eyes.
'Back then, when I held it all within my mind,' Ayil thought, recalling the experience. It was fleeting, barely reachable. But still, he understood... 'I didn't use my physical eyes for receiving the information.'
The information came as vibrations; waves; the physical world passing through and oscillating off a metaphysical state of his being. He 'saw' not the world, but it treated 'him' as a fundamental force it was to obey, embracing him.
'Is that what the Will is?' Ayil thought. 'But that wasn't me. It was the Arlath showing me what it would be like to be her... Then Willing Kallomancy must be something simpler, but similar... no?' He sighed. 'It feels I'm getting ahead of myself.'
But it paid off. He felt he grasped something that wouldn't be possible without going back to that moment.
He took a step back further back, this time remembering what KalloSyth meant to him. First, he imagined its 'physical' state.
A lone black star, fueled by the violent flames of hate. Hate that made his own seem minuscule in comparison, leaving him feeling empty. It shot tendril beams of light in all directions, so it wasn't ever-present; its rays were.
A strange, yet pleasant, sensation throbbed across his brain as he remembered the warmth the rays brought. He opened his palms, guiding KalloSyth to converge a few of these 'beams' above his hands.
Black energy spilled out of thin air, streaming to form a transparent ball. A smile cracked Ayil's focused expression.
"Now wh—?"
Fierce pain shot up his spine, to the very tip of his fingers. He gnashed his teeth together, clutching his arm. Glowing runes the color of a starry sky—bluish violet—printed his skin, bringing with them a hellish torment.
The ball of black light popped, vanishing into the invisible layer of space it spewed from as he lost focus.
"It's worse than I thought it would be," Eira said, studying the symbols writhing violently on the entirety of his body. "I'd say... you have roughly ten years before your Kallomancy is completely sealed off."
"...Explain," Ayil said through his teeth, "what the hell is this?"
"A price. We all have to pay," she said with a small snort, moving the fabric of her gown to reveal her shoulder; it was marred by a small cluster of violet runes. "Since Willing is essentially you using your influence to bring KalloSyth into the physical realm—which they are banished from—the restrictions and curses placed on it flow towards your body. Inflicting you."
Ayil's hazy vision cleared, his thoughts becoming more coherent as the pain subsided; the runes fading.
"Usually," Eira continued, "every Kallomancer has approximately forty years before their Kallomancy is sealed off. But since you're a Redeye, you had roughly one hundred and twenty. However, because of the spell, you used to prevent your demise. You have about six or seven years before you're completely incapable of performing Kallomancy."
He stood, stretched out his cramping muscles, then stared at Eira; processing her words.
"...I see," Ayil murmured, wiping the sweat rolling down his forehead. "How much longer do you have?"
The crescent she summoned puffed up, vanishing into a fog.
"Thirty-five, I think," she said with a cheeky grin, standing she glided into the bathroom with swift steps; a bundle of clothes in hand. "We should prepare for the harvest."
'...Six years,' he thought, stumbling into the plush chair. Comfortable, he let out a long sigh. 'I suppose this is appropriate.'
Ayil rubbed his forearms, recalling the deep pain. It was honestly something that transcended physical pain, but... he was certain it was something he could bear given time.
The thought of excruciating pain in exchange for power seemed relatively reasonable. It simply registered as normal in his mind, he didn't need to mull over it. Instead, what currently filled his head was the realization that miracles came at a price.
Decades of your ability to do magic for the opportunity to keep living? What sane man wouldn't accept that deal?
An elated grin spread across Ayil's lips, his intuition sparking an epiphany in his mind. At that moment, a single thought drummed violently through his head.
'What more miracles could I perform by exchanging Lurthinine?'
***
"It's locked," Ayil said, pushing against the gate once more. It barely budged.
"Then we have no choice," Eira said, turning to climb the stairs. "It can't be helped."
Ayil followed her, annoyed with the fact that his reputation would fall into further depravity after this night. After all, if people randomly disappear in the building he sleeps in; he'd be the first suspect. Being a bonified cannibal and all.
How much longer before someone hunts him down?
'Maybe we should just force open the gate?' he thought, glancing back. 'Don't be stupid. What if you alert the staff in doing so?'
Exiting the stairway, Ayil caught sight of Eira staring down at a short man with brown hair. The man trembled in her presence, perhaps mistaking her as one of the staff because of how dark it was.
"...I-I'm sorry," the man was saying, "but ca-can I be of—"
His words cut off and the man howled, stumbling, he grabbed onto the doorframe.
Ayil cursed at the noise, running towards the pair, he pushed his palm against the man's mouth and tackled him to the ground.
The man let out a muffled yelp as the back of his head bounced against the hard floor, fracturing, his brain matter spraying from the opening as a pinkish-white paste.
Ayil grimaced at the sound of the man's skull splitting, confused. He also noticed that the mouth he was pushing against was collapsing; the teeth and tongue dissolving into liquid.
He stood, wiping the sticky sludge on the sides of his pants. It didn't take long for the young brunette to completely turn into a puddle.
"Why did you kill him before I was done with the spell?" Eira asked.
Ayil's eye twitched. "Are you trying to get us caught? That was too loud," he said, picking up the man's clothes from the room entrance. "Next time sedate the victim first."
The blonde nodded, dipping a finger in the pool of blood, inspecting its blue glow. She sniffed it for a moment, then suckled on it.
"...What in Hell's name are you doing?" Ayil asked, wiping the goop from the floor with some of the man's clothes. "Help me clean this mess."
Eira trembled suddenly, letting out a hot breathe. "...It's quite perfect," she whispered, staring at her hands. "
Bleach-white bone grew slowly from the stumps of her fingers. Looking closer, Ayil could vaguely make out thin threads of blood weaving around it, spinning to create flesh.
"...You could do that?" Ayil asked, pinching one of her newly regenerated fingers.
"No," she replied, dipping another finger in the thick soup, "it's because of this liquid. It's a fusion of soul, blood, and KalloSyth. Though because someone interrupted the spell, most of the man's soul vanished to God knows where."
"Does that mean without my interruption, you could've created a Soul Shard?" Ayil asked, closing the door after wiping away most of the glowing sludge. Sitting down on the brunette's couch, he watched Eira suck on the clothes he used for cleaning. "...Well?"
She shook her head gently, snapping out of the reverie, and moved to sit on the bed. "No. Fundamentally, I feel my spell was missing the complexity of precision."
"And do you know how to 'apply' that to your magic?"
"I'm afraid not," Eira said softly, interlocking her fingers together. "But using trial and error, I'm certain we'll arrive at the best results... eventually."
"Ah, how much time will that take?" Ayil mumbled, glancing over the glowing traces of human remains on the floor. "How many lives?"
Eira closed her eyes in thought. "If we are being optimistic about this... roughly sixty?"
Ayil let out a sigh. That was one too many people. Killing people to survive was one thing, committing mass murder was another. But still...
"Fine," he said, standing. "We'll first see how this night goes before considering other choices."