Adrian's POV
The chamber was dark, with shadows in its corners that moved like living beings. The walls appeared to pulse softly, as though the fortress itself were alive and breathing, and there was a slight metallic tang in the air. This area, which was equal parts sanctum and study, was Seraphina Nightshade's chambers here in Emberheart's fortress.
She was standing behind a desk filled with what appeared to be preserved organs, vials of murky liquid, and scrolls. Except for the slight flicker of candlelight reflected in her eyes, her figure was angular and still.
"Adrian," she whispered in a silky, deep voice without turning. "Timeliness. An encouraging start to our lessons. I can see you are eager. I like that."
I said, "I try to make a good impression," and entered. Behind me, the door creaked shut, enclosing us.
When she eventually turned to look at me, a small smile formed on her lips. "However, impressions can be misleading, can't they?"
I said, "That depends on many things. I am not here for a philosophy lesson, am I?"
She chuckled gently, without making eye contact. "You're intelligent. That's excellent. A sharp intellect is just as necessary for blood magic as a sharp blade."
I pointed to the disorganised desk. "Talking about sharp, should I worry about... everything I 'm seeing on your table?"
Her eyes trailed mine to the assortment of grotesque equipment she had put on display. "These are merely tools. Blood magic is both an art and a craft. You'll discover that in due time."
"Aren't I here to learn?"
Her face changed, still unintelligible but more shrewd and calculated. "Let's see what we can accomplish tonight. Get closer."
I walked over to the desk, noticing the slight buzz of electricity coming from a few of the items. I noticed a knife with a dark crystal blade, its edge glistening in the candlelight.
Seraphina picked up the knife and declared, "This is a bloodstone blade made from a material that, when mixed with life essence, intensifies the flow of mana. It is ideal for precision tasks."
"Tasks like what?"
She put down the blade and rolled out a piece of parchment, saying, "Sigils, for one. Deep crimson was used to design complex patterns on it. Every line needs to be precise, every curve intentional. A protective ward can become a curse with only one error."
I stooped to examine the patterns. "And blood is needed for these."
"Obviously."
"And if I choose not to bleed everywhere?"
A small smile came on her face, but it was cold. "Therefore, blood magic is a very brief career. And why you are surrounded by potential blood donors."
I crossed my arms. "That's good to know."
She took a step back and signalled for me to take over at the counter. "Show me what you are aware of. Create a simple containment symbol."
I paused. "I believed you were meant to instruct me."
"Knowing what the student can do is the first step in a lesson."
Although she spoke in a calm tone, her eyes seemed to be tearing me apart. I pierced my thumb with the bloodstone blade and saw a drop of crimson form. I started to sketch the pattern from memory—Ash's memory, actually—by pressing my thumb on the parchment.
The lines started to glow dimly as the symbol took shape. I stepped back to look at my work and concluded with a crisp stroke.
Seraphina remarked with a bland tone, "Not bad. But not accurate enough."
She indicated a bend close to the sigil's margin. "This statement is too flimsy. The confinement becomes unstable as a result of the disruption of the mana flow."
I answered, "Looks fine to me," but I could sense the sigil's hum wavering.
She arched an eyebrow. "Do you want to put that thought to the test?"
She stretched out and activated the symbol with a murmured invocation before I could reply. The air around it appeared to shimmer and then fracture as the illumination grew stronger. The symbol fell in on itself, scorching the parchment, and a strong, bitter stench filled the room.
With a flick of her fingers, Seraphina put out the remnants of the parchment and declared, "Lesson one. Everything depends on precision. Laziness and conceit are not tolerated by blood magic. Under the right conditions, blood magic can and will end the caster's life."
I tightened my jaw. "Noted."
"Well done." She gave me another parchment page. "Repeat it."
---
Hours passed while I repeated the symbol, with Seraphina examining and correcting each time. The blade hurt my fingers to grasp, and the slight sting of multiple pricks on my flesh made me realise how much blood I had already shed for this alleged lesson.
After my fifth try, she remarked, "Better. Although not flawless, acceptable."
I flexed my rigid fingers and exhaled. "So, is all blood magic like this? Patterns and lines?"
Her face become a little serious. "The manipulation of life itself is known as blood magic. Sigils are only one way to access that power. It becomes more intimate the deeper you go."
"Deeper?"
Her voice faded to a near whisper as she took a step closer. "Have you ever experienced someone else's heartbeat as though it were your own? Recognised their desires, their anxieties, their essence?"
Uneasy, I shook my head. "No."
"So you haven't even touched the surface."
Her implication-laden remarks lingered in the atmosphere. Instead of answering, I concentrated on the next symbol she presented to me.
---
We took a break later, and I leaned against the desk to watch Seraphina make a little pot of dark liquid.
"What's that exactly?" I enquired.
"Think of them as my ingredients for manna extraction," she said. "From these, we will extract mana, which we will then link to blood. An easy but fundamental practice considering that lots of living and unliving creatures do have mana. Manner that is provided out of their kind hearts to us."
"That sounds... simple."
She gave me an expression that said I was anything but. "If you are disciplined, it's simple. If not, it's a catastrophe waiting to happen."
While whispering an incantation, I observed her adding the plants to the cauldron. The liquid's colour deepened to an inky black as it started to whirl.
"It's your turn," she said, taking a step back.
I paused. "What if I make a mistake?"
"After that, we both depart with burns."
I looked at her icily. "That's reassuring."
"Reassurance isn't what magic cares about," she stated calmly. "It has to do with control. Now concentrate."
I repeated the spell she had used and added the herbs one at a time, imitating her actions. As if alive, the liquid's surface rippled and swirled.
Seraphina said, "Good. Now use blood to bind it."
My finger stung once more, causing a few droplets to fall into the pot. I briefly experienced a weird tug in my chest, as though the cauldron were reaching inside of me, as the liquid hissed.
The liquid then stabilised and began to glow dimly.
"Not too bad," Seraphina remarked.
"Excellent," I whispered.
Disregarding the remark, she filled a little vial with the liquid. "During rituals, this infusion might improve your concentration and endurance. But there is a price for it."
"I will make a guess," I said. "Overuse results in addiction or madness."
"That kind of thing."
I looked at the dimly lighted vial and shook my head. "Is it true that blood magic doesn't accomplish anything halfway?"
"No," she answered in an unintelligible tone. "And you shouldn't either."
---
I had a strange feeling that I was familiar with some of the tactics she explained as the course went on—techniques that I had not learnt but nonetheless understood.
We were practicing creating a defensive barrier when I unconsciously traced a complicated symbol in the air. The air around us crackled with energy as the lines blazed brighter than they should have.
Seraphina's eyes narrowed as she froze. "Where did you find out about that?"
"I didn't," I murmured in confusion.
She stepped closer and yelled, "Don't lie to me. That sigil is very sophisticated—much more than you ought to be able to do."
To be honest, I said, "I have no idea where it came from. It simply happened."
She looked directly at me, looking for dishonesty. "Adrian, you're full of surprises."
"Is that a threat or a compliment?"
"Neither," she answered in a quiet yet sharp voice. I"t serves as a warning. Kael will discover if you're concealing something or if you're more complicated than you've shown. Additionally, he won't be as understanding as I am."
I looked her in the eye and didn't flinch. "I have nothing to conceal."
Her look was unreadable, and she was silent.
Finally, she remarked, "I hope that's true for your sake."
Her comments stuck in my throat like a sword, even though the lecture was over soon after.