Softly closing the door behind him, Ayil turned to Eira, giving her a long look. A tight-lipped smile lifted the corner of her mouth. He nodded. But just in case repeated:
"I'll knock out the next person, and only then will you...cast your spell. Understood?"
Eira's smile straightened almost comically, morphing her expression to that of subtle irritation. "I understand."
Passing her, Ayil quietly moved to another room door. He slowly peeked into the room through the keyhole, the metallic doorknob cool on the skin. The room was dim, straining his sight, he could also tell the occupant wasn't asleep. He or she was trembling under their blankets—probably pretending to sleep.
He sighed, and knocked on the door once, then twice, and finally a third, hard bang. Eira glared at him quietly, brooding.
Ayil ignored her; he knew there was no point in trying to pick the lock when the person inside was already awake. He silently waited, breathless, sweat rolling down his chin.
Was he getting nervous?
'Stop it,' Ayil thought, 'so what if I kill another person? It won't be the first time, and—'
A soft sound vibrated through the door. Ayil pressed down on his conscience, tuning out the world. His expression hardened, his eyes murky; his muscles tensing.
The door clicked, creaking open.
"H-hello?" a nasally masculine voice came. "...Wh—"
Blood spewed into the air, a piece of the man's tongue falling to the ground as Ayil's fist connected to his lower jaw. He jumped at the confused man, smashing a knee into his face.
There was a dull thud. Two bodies lay on the floor, one wheezing for breath through crushed nostrils; the other slightly lost for breath.
Ayil grappled an arm around the man's neck, barely managing to hold him down. He tightened the hold until the man's body fell completely limp.
Eira entered the room, gently closing the door when she did. After helping up Ayil, who was lost for breath on the floor, she slowly felt for a pulse on the man's wrist and neck.
"He's alive," she whispered, whipping her finger through the air to remove the man's blood and sweat. "Though I am not sure for how long. He's bleeding. A lot."
She pointed at the blood gushing out of the man's mouth.
"...My apologies?" Ayil said softly, brushing back his sweaty locks of hair. "Can you stop the bleeding?"
"Possibly, for a steep price," Eira said, rustling for something in her leather coat. She pulled out a little razor. She cut apart the man's thin tunic, exposing his chest. "...But that's not what I'm going to do."
Ayil watched her hastily draw a rune on the man for a brief moment, before heading into the bathroom to wash his face.
The water splashed chaotically against the basin, swirling into the drain. To an abyss unbeknownst to him. Just as the man he just murdered in cold blood. No. That wasn't true. At least not if Eira had her way with him.
'This is wrong,' a faint whisper licked his ear. He knew it was all in his head, but he couldn't help flinching a little. His eyelids twitched. '...You know it is.'
Exhaling, Ayil bit into his lower lip. It was wrong. It was selfish. It is evil. Most would agree. He would agree... But was he to stop here? Before he could attain priceless knowledge?
'...I didn't choose to be here,' Ayil clawed into his forearm. Cold red eyes flashing, flickering, burning in his mind. 'But I sure as hell will leave with the most benefits. The cost barely matters.'
He rinsed his chagrined face once more. The cold water perfect against his skin. Inhaling deeply, he moved to Eira.
The blonde girl looked up from the man. The circular runes spiral around his chest brimming with vitality in the form of a faint blue glow—though the same could not be said for the dark-haired man.
"Is he dead?" Ayil asked.
Eira nodded disappointedly, tracing a finger around the blue runes.
"What did you do?"
"Nothing," she admitted. "I tried to create a seal to prevent our friend's soul from vanishing, but the soul is not a simple thing... I barely captured any."
Ayil echoed her words repeatedly in his mind. He was no sorcerer supreme, he understood just how ignorant he was when pondering on matters of the arcane. However, he could still tell using these kids as objects to practice magic would lead to a quick death, especially since it seemed Eira wasn't as resourceful at this task as assumed.
Perhaps this was just his conscience again; exposing his hypocrisy, but there had to be a more efficient way to gain Soul Shards.
He sighed for what felt to be the umpteenth time, recalling the pale-skinned woman.
'...If I could trick them into cluing us in,' Ayil thought idly, though, soon, it was a serious idea that didn't want to leave his mind. He turned to Eira. "Are you a good liar?"
"...No," she said flatly with a slightly puzzled expression, which vanished soon after as she went back to studying the cooling corpse.
That flushed the entire plan down the drain. If he were to negotiate with the strange pair, there was no doubt his ignorance about magic would be noticed and possibly exploited. Lying also wasn't a skill that could be taught overnight.
Ayil paced the room, conflicted. "...One more."
Eira suddenly stood, stretching, she turned her lazy gaze towards Ayil.
"You weren't quiet enough," she said. "And you dare lecture me about stealth? I sense multiple people outside in the hallway."
Ayil moved to listen, pressing an ear against the door. She was right. It was faint, but he could make out whispered conversations.
"Let's not play the blame game," he said, moving across the room and sitting on the couch. "They'll quite down given time."
"I suppose," Eira said with a slight pout of her lips. She moved to the bed, laying her head on a pillow. Her eyes were on the corpse in the middle of the room. "Are you curious?"
"About?" Ayil asked, massaging his swollen right knuckles.
"What I did to that young man."
"Of course," he replied curtly. "But not at the current moment." Not while his mind swam with countless contradictory thoughts.
Eira pursed her lips to say something, but seemingly decided against it.
"...Oh," she whispered long after the moment passed. "Then, to keep the boredom at bay, would you like to hear a poem from the Final Rapture?"
Ayil nodded gently.
Eira smiled, positioning herself more comfortably on the bed. "Well, my voice may be annoying, as you previously mentioned," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "So bare with...
Quiet men cannot be recalled, they said. I strongly disagree—now, that is. For here I am. At the peak. Blinded art thy eyes... Drowned by the distorted Faiths in Falsehoods..."
Ayil listened to her droning words, eyelids drooping. The sound of her voice was low, calm, in control. She would pause when it was appropriate, gently raise her voice to create tension. Slowly, surely, the sound of her voice served as a tool to quiet his thoughts."
Her intoning voice reached a graceful crescendo. "...So," she said, panting quietly. "What did you think?"
Ayil hummed deeply, closing his eyes completely in thought. "Honestly?"
Eira nodded.
"...I still cannot comprehend it," he said. "You call it a poem, I find it more appropriate to call it the ramblings of a madman."
"I don't think I can ever help you with this issue again," she said, her eyes narrowing threateningly. "Frankly, as you are right now... having that accessorized man kill you would be most appropriate."
He chuckled softly. "The truth is ever so bitter, huh?"
"Truth?" Eira said, scoffing into a backhand. "The opinion of an uneducated man?"
"...Are you certain that book isn't enchanted?" Ayil asked rather humorously.
"I see you're adamant on proving my previous statement correct," she replied snappily.
"You really love that book, huh," Ayil mumbled, closing his eyes, straining his ears. The sounds outside had ceased, he stood to make certain his judgment was correct.
Carefully, he listened, his ears—yet again—pressed firmly on the door. Silence.
He opened the door, peeking out into the dark hallway. It didn't take long for him to spot a figure a few paces ahead.
"Hey!" The person seemed to notice Ayil's gaze, calling him out to him in a harsh whisper. "...You heard that? What'd you think is going on?"
The dark silhouette walked closer.
"Can't say I do," Ayil responded in a wary tone. "Stop moving. Why are you coming closer?"
The man made an audible confused noise. "I can't understand why you people are acting this way," he said, not stopping. "Shouldn't talking about people screaming in the dead of night warrant for a discussion? Especially in this place! And especially accounting for the fact we're all in the same boat!"
The man's arms spread out, and he spun as he screamed, addressing the entire floor. He huffed calming down.
"I know you're afraid," the man said. "As am I... But wouldn't grouping up guarantee safety?"
"...What is your name?" Ayil asked in an unnaturally gentle voice.
The man paused, seemingly surprised. "...Iro."
"Ah, yes, Iro. A brilliant idea. But, unfortunately, I'll have to decline," Ayil said, closing the door. He moved back to his seat.
Eira cracked an eye at him. Her green irises sparkling in the dim room. "Strange. What was the point of asking for a name?"
"A brilliant man deserves to be recognized, no?"
Her expression showed she wasn't buying into his answer. But Ayil wasn't going to argue on the matter.
"Tell me another one of Mrs. Cil's poems," Ayil said, closing his eyes as he prepared to sleep. Mind finally at peace. "We'll stop here for today."