"This spell is dense because of who performed it. For you, it would be much weaker, as it's just the beginning for you," I explained, noting her perplexed expression.
"You're quite... strong," she remarked, doubt evident in her voice.
"Maybe, or maybe not," I replied. With the instability of my vessel's core, I had no way of knowing my true capabilities. There was always the risk it could betray me and consume me from within.
"Even if it's just this much, you must be a renowned figure in the world. You wiped out at least four trees with just a basic spell. That's definitely not normal," she observed.
"Why can't you just heal yourself if you know magic?" she inquired.
"You know that in order to accomplish such a feat, you need to be at the level of a sage?" I countered.
"No, isn't healing magic... for healing? You can just heal yourself," she insisted.
"That's not how it works. Your body adapts to the scent of the magic that passes through you. Each person has a unique purification scent, and that same magic would not work on yourself unless you are capable of changing the scent of the magic and passing it through your body," I clarified.
"I don't understand. There's no mention of scent anywhere?" she questioned.
"There is, but those books are just not within your reach. Moreover, you will know it once you become an adept wizard, that the magic in your body has a scent unique to you only," I concluded.
"It looks like you have seen a wizard heal on their own," I remarked, sensing the change in her facial expression.
Her eyes widened slightly, a flicker of surprise mingling with curiosity. "I-"
"What's the point of reasoning with me? I don't even know who I am," I interjected.
She hesitated, her expression shifting to one of empathy and understanding. "I... I just thought..."
"Just focus on learning. You need not be reserved for such trivial things," I said, trying to quell the tension.
"Understood," she nodded, her determination shining through as she attempted to mimic the energy flow I had just demonstrated.
Unlike the dense energy within my own flow, hers was weak, fragmented, filled with flaws. Each spark seemed hesitant, flickering uncertainly in the air. It was clear that it would take her considerable time to learn how to condense that energy effectively.
I couldn't deem it a failure, but neither was it a resounding success. The sparks that resonated around her marked merely the beginning of her journey.
"Frustrated in just one try?" I asked, noting the frustration creeping into her expression as she struggled.
"Keep performing the same, try to understand what causes the lightning to befall from the sky when you perform this flow. Everything has a reason; you need to find that reason to advance," I explained. She nodded in understanding and repeated the exercise.
Leaning against a nearby tree, I watched her repeat the motions tirelessly. As I observed her, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss. Serene, a recent addition to the monastery, supposedly hailed from a nearby village according to the nuns. But her features told a different story.
There was a unique quality about her, from her uncommon white hair to her innate elegance. While beauty knows no boundaries, there was a sense of purpose in her presence that intrigued me.
Everyone has their own story, their own motivations. But with Serene, there seemed to be an ulterior motive, a hidden agenda behind her eagerness to learn from me. With each passing minute, she improved the flow, filling the broken spaces and deepening the energy.
"We should stop here; you've tired yourself out," I said, noting her exhausted state.
"You're right," she nodded, her expression oddly casual, something I'd grown accustomed to.
"I'm curious," she began, catching me off guard.
"What are your affinities?" she asked.
"My affinities, you ask? You seem sure that I have more than one," I replied, intrigued by
her question.
"Shouldn't that be obvious by now?"
"The answer to your question," I paused, then added, "Let's say that's a secret."
"So you trust me enough to teach me your techniques but not enough to reveal your affinities?" Her tone held a hint of cunning, a change from her usual demeanour.
"The question is not about trust from the very start," I replied. "Some things are better kept secret," I added.
"I didn't mean to pry-"
"That is totally fine," I said, appreciating her curiosity.
The lesson concluded with the rising sun, signaling the start of another day. Serene returned to the monastery to attend her duties, while I made my way to my designated room.
The corridors were quiet, as usual. Here, nobody bothered to keep track of my movements, granting me a sense of freedom I hadn't experienced elsewhere.
But today, as I entered my room, a peculiar sight awaited me. The same bird that often perched on the nearby branch now sat on the hilt of my bed, as if anticipating my arrival.
A telepathic message resonated in my mind, catching me off guard. A bird capable of such communication? It seemed improbable, yet there it was.
"You have grown fond of her," the message echoed, bypassing any semblance of doubt.
Ignoring its invasive remark, I questioned, "May I know why you're so curious about my personal life?"
"You have become weak, physically and mentally," it continued, disregarding my query.
The bird's assertions were unsettling, hinting at a knowledge that surpassed mere observation. "You seem to know who I am?" I ventured.
"The word 'know' would be an understatement," it replied cryptically.
"Then enlighten me," I pressed further, seeking clarity.
"So now you have reached the state that you require my assistance to help you?" the bird scoffed.
Frustration welled within me. "What do you suggest, then?".
"Listen here, Duke," it interjected sharply, "stop fooling around and focus on yourself. You are deteriorating, dying from the inside with each passing moment."
"Oh, right! I thank you for the heads up because I wasn't aware of that," I responded, frustration lacing my words as the bird stated the obvious.
"You need a medium to consume that darkness inside you," it continued, its tone matter-of-fact.
"That is also obvious," I retorted, growing impatient with the bird's cryptic messages.
"I'll arrange for that, of course, there is a price," it declared, its words carrying a weight of inevitability.
"And what might that be?" I inquired, steeling myself for the impending revelation.
"You'll make me your familiar," the bird proposed, its request hanging in the air like an unspoken contract.
For a moment, silence enveloped us, the weight of the proposition settling between us. Usually, it's the master who seeks out a familiar, imprinting its seal on the creature's mind and commanding its loyalty. But this was a reversal of roles.
"What's the catch?" I finally asked, my curiosity piqued by the bird's unusual offer.
"Just a minor difference," it replied cryptically.
"And that is?" I pressed.
"I am a devil," it confessed.