Befuddlement caught hold of Luna so quickly that her words failed to echo. She found herself enthralled by the sigil Altair drew.
'Could it be?' she asked herself, unable to believe what she was seeing. Questioning her reality, she drew close, sensing the intangible force pulling the forces of the elements around Altair, as well as the crest he was drawing in the middle of the dirt.
"It was one of my first memories," Altair explained, almost as if he was speaking to himself. "And it was the first thing I ever drew for Mother." And he rose his head, a warm smile seeping into the edges of his lips. " She said she'd keep it deep within her heart. And that I should never make another one."
'So it is real,' Lunafreya said to herself, unable to break her stare. She quivered, the anticipation of his future weighing so heavily on her mind that slivers of sweat fell along the curves of her cheek and neck.
"You must hide this." She said sternly, watching him continue to draw his sigil.
Altair looked up, tilted his head, and said: "Why?"
Falling to one knee before the Young Lord, Luna's fingers trailed through strands of his hair, soft as the finest silk: "Do you like pain?"
"Eh?"
"Altair, you are a perfect specimen. A child born with a sigil is just about unheard of. Any sage or god worth his salt would carve you up to see how you tick." She paused, bothered by the fact she never saw fear in his eyes.
It wasn't the first time she'd seen his indifference toward death. During the battle with the black Mamba, there was not even a concern about his mortality. And yet she saw how desperately he fought for life.
"Do you understand?" She asked, eyeing the regal sigil that embodied the boy before her. It didn't appear complex, but each line gave the sensation of the very world around her.
"I… I think so. But if this makes my spell stronger, shouldn't I use it?" He protested.
"Indeed. But you need to do it intelligently." She replied. "Life is all about deception. And it takes a master of manipulation to truly benefit from whatever society throws at them. You're still weak, but your smart, right?"
He nodded.
"Then let me ask you. How do you hide the fact you have a sigil while still using it? Because having a sigil means you can insta-cast any spell or ritual you have in-depth knowledge of. It's one of the ultimate signs of Godhood and beyond."
He frowned: 'Godhood? Big Sis. Are you a god?"
She smiled, masking the urge to giggle: "I'm asking the questions here. Now answer. How do you hide that you can instantly cast damn near ten times stronger spells than average."
"It's simple." He replied happily. "I don't cast."
"Eh?"
"Ignorance is bliss, isn't it? And Mommy gave me a Grimoire. I can blame it on the Grimoire. Or I could manipulate my spells more by adding sigils to make my spell more obscure. But better yet. I don't show people my full abilities."
"Indeed, people use Grimoire to instantly cast low-level spells. But how will you explain the Grimoire."
"By telling them to mind their business. I don't need to answer them. Whatever the suspicion might be. It's better than the truth, right?"
'He really is too smart for his own good.' Luna told herself, narrowing her silvery eyes that sparkled with wonder. 'But will this be enough? Will he… No, I need faith. He's a smart kid. A little naive but—'
Rustling the ground to destroy his sigil, Altair folded his arms, his focus on the Grimoire in his palm: " I need to understand my weapon. What can it do? You said it has a mind of its own. Then can it reject my will?"
She smiled, and once again, the lesson resumed.
…
That night, upon the eve of twilight that carried the fireflies twinkling over the endless night, Altair sat awake. On his stomach, a small little wolf the size of a puppy echoed its soft snores.
'Again,' He thought, gently running his hands over the baby wolf. " When will Riena get control of her Polypmoph skill?" He smiled, discovering an unmistakable sense of pleasure each time his fingers trailed through Riena's beautiful fur coat.
[Circle of Gluttony has devoured the three souls of the Black Mamba]
[Assimilation of Knowledge Beginning]
[Memory Commensing]
"Eh?"
…
…
…
First light had only just peeked into the cave, stirring the serpent's eyes open. Its reptilian exterior huddled around a single egg. The serpent hissed softly, enjoying the heat against its dark scales.
It would be the final time.
Another hiss echoed from the serpent as she gave the egg one final glance, leaving, never to return.
Days continued to echo, to slip away as the seasons passed through the humid cave when the egg trembled. At first, softly, but as hours passed, it became violent. Cracks splintered the egg porcelain surface, revealing small greyish scales worming their way out.
Coldness sank into the serpent's skeleton, cooling its blood: It hissed, turning to survey its surroundings, acting on instincts.
'I'm a serpent…" Altair thought through the eyes of the Black Momba. 'But I cannot move. Nor talk? But I can feel what the serpent feels. I can feel the icy air.'
There was a silent wail to Altair's thoughts as he… as the nameless serpent moved. It knew no family, no warmth, no love, only desire.
The serpent wanted warmth. It wanted food. It wanted to live.
And now… so too did Altair.
For the first time, he learned of the torment of hunger, the cruelty of winter, and the dull ache of fear gnawing at his mind during the long winters. Predators were plentiful, but he had only his instincts to guide him.
He learned what it meant to kill, what it meant to hunt, what true patients meant, and what despair tasted like, but of all else, he learned of death when he faced himself near the memories end.
It had been one of the most painful things and yet one of the most painless.
For two years, he fought to survive, knowing nothing other than to kill. Thoughts of his loving mother and sister had faded the moment he awoke. All that was left was the nameless serpent.
[Second Memory Assimilation Beginning]
It began again.
…
Dawn, the next day, upon first light, Luna stood over Altair, a frown marring her face as she leaned over his cold body, his breathing even but his face ashen.
She took his pulse, peered at a beautiful dark flame, shimmering a void of nothing that was his soul, and back to him again, a frown over her serene expression: "His soul has grown a little stronger. But why? How?"
Her body stiffened but quickly relaxed: ' Whatever may be happening. It's sure to do with his soul based on its growth.' She growled and looked around, her gaze sweeping over space and back to Altair. "Let's keep this a secret from your mother. Arbiters like her are bound by the Shadow Proclamation," she muttered, reaching into her robe to a small pill she placed in his mouth.
"Good luck, Altair."