12 Spirit Pledge

With the nib of my quill, I draw on plain paper. Circles bisect circles, forming intricate patterns in ink. Sketching runes on one side, I fill out the spaces between the lines of the rings. With one final stroke, the formula takes shape. Enough shape, at least, for her to realise what this is and realise what I can offer her.

Tabitha Enderich; the white-haired girl.

Breaking through spirit chains is no easy feat. After all, who would still forge them if they could simply be broken? The fetters used to bind potential is as difficult to break as it is tyrannical. Even with the completed equation, there's no more than a hair's widths chance of the Enderich girl freeing herself, and yet, I know she would move heaven and earth just to try.

Checking my work, I scrutinise the detail. The bends of the lines, the runes in-between, even now, the depths of Father's knowledge astounds me. With the years at his side, I doubt I ever scratched the surface of his experience.

Satisfied that my work is sufficient, I fold the paper in half and seal it in an envelope marked for its recipient.

As allies go, Tabitha is better than I could have asked for. Her performance in the entrance exams was enough to catch my eye, let alone her status as a high-tier Clansman. For such a girl to have such a crippling weakness, how could I not exploit it for my own ends? If she should happen to gain some benefits also, isn't that the best of both worlds?

Three soft knocks sound from my door. Without waiting for reply, the shrill whine of a turning doorknob cuts through my thoughts. Standing and turning, I face the entrance to my dorm.

Dressed only in a floral white robe, Rachel walks through the door.

'How could you do that to me?' The girl whispers sharply as she closes the door. 'Everyone thinks I'm your plaything now. A whore!'

'Let them think what they're going to think. What does it matter, considering what you will gain?'

'You're not the one that they're judging!' She says back with increasing intensity. 'You're not the one bathing in pitying looks, whispers and scorn. How could you treat me like that?'

She's right…

I could have waited and approached her in secret. She would have come to me. Whether it's now or ten hours from now, my goals would have been achieved. The weak have no right to complain, but do the strong have no responsibilities?

Ice chills my heart suppressing the guilt. As if caught in a storm, the last embers of shame are swept away.

Who is she to me anyway? Just a convenience. Whether I adorn her in gold or toss her away is a question of her use to me.

From my desk, I draw two envelopes to my hand. Holding them before me, I wait for the girl to take them.

'No!' Rachel says, refusing the letters pinched between my fingers. 'I'm not doing anything else for you until do what you promised.'

Exasperated, breath pours out of my lips. Reaching into my desk draw, hands comb through a stack of paper and envelops until a velvety sensation tickles my fingers. Pulling a folded sheet of parchment loose from the pile, I hand it to Rachel.

As she reads, the tick of the clock dominates the air. Besides its mechanical click and clack, nothing else can be heard.

Seconds pass and a minute goes by. Rachel's brown eyes dart left and right, and up and down. By the look of things, she must have read the page three times. It's understandable, she is, after all, signing over her life.

A focused frown inverts on her lips as she lets her hand rest to her side.

'Everything's in order I trust?' The girl laughs. Not the harsh grating of scorn or the jagged bleat of fear. She laughs the silvery anthem of joy, pure, childlike joy. Throwing herself into my chest, a sweet cherry scent drifts into my nose as her arms wrap around, enveloping me in the softness of her form.

I break her hold and push her back, but nothing shakes the smile on her face. 'Where do I sign?' She asks as she moves next to me by my desk. She reaches for a quill, but before she can grasp in, I catch her wrist.

'A spirit pledge can't be signed with an ordinary quill or ink'. Walking towards my bed, I crouch low and retrieve a leather-bound chest from undeneath. Passing Tension through its frame, mechanical whirls fill the air. Runes ignite on the surface of the box, and with a final snap and pop, the top files open.

Inside the chest, numerous paraphernalia tease my eyes. Packaged leaves and herbs, vials of potions of different colours and effects, metals and stones, and crystals, and gems, the box teems with treasure. Treasure collected with father. Treasure stained with the blood, and tears, and wails, and cries, and shouts, and moans, and hopes, and fears, and blood, and blood, and blood, and blood, of whoever crossed our path.

I shut it all out. I have to…

Taking from the trunk a quill and some ink, I return to my desk at Rachel's side. 'What's that?' She asks as I place the clear jar of green, shifting liquid on my desk.

'The ink of a heaven-sent spirit squid. To affect a spirit pledge, you need its ink and a quill forged from its beak.' As I uncork the jar, the liquid inside squirms around its container. A tendril of emerald ink stretches out of the top as if scouting my room for danger. Taking the parchment from Rachel's hand, I lay it flat on the desk and sign my name at the bottom of the page. Passing the quill to the girl, I motion for her to do the same.

She shakes.

Whether from excitement or fear, I can't tell, but her shivers transmit waves of movement through the pen. Stooping down, Rachel signs the contract.

From the centre of the parchment, a hole appears. Encroaching unceasingly, the hole widens until the page is destroyed. Whips of green light illuminate the dim room. They dance and they twirl above Rachel and me. Encircling us above, they descend, penetrating our chests. Warmth courses through my body. From the base of my skull to the tips of my toes, an eerie heat fills every inch of me.

Excitement, fear, regret, joy, rage, reverence, contempt, longing, lust. I drown in a sea of foreign emotion. Though I feel them as my own, I know the source is that girl.

The spirit pledge a success, in a one-way path, Rachel's every feeling is open to me. My legs nearly buckle from the intensity of sensations.

Teeth grind on teeth. Eyes weld shut. I suppress the tornado of conflicting emotions that threatens to overtake me. Opening my eyes, I exhale.

A spirit pledge is a useful tool. Through its punitive restraints, a fox could be left to tend to a chicken coop without fear of betrayal. Even still, through all its utility, only a fool would not hesitate to use it.

At the moment it's signed, a battle of wills commences. In that instant, were they inclined, a stronger willed person can overwhelm the beneficiary of the contract. Even without malicious intent, just the storm of emotions from one heart to the other is enough to fell weaker minds.

"Man was born alone", Father would tell me.

"Never intended to truly inhabit the soul of another. To break the boundaries of the natural order, how could there not be risks?"

As always, he is proven right. Her hopes and her dreams? Who has the time for such nonsense? Only strength matters. If she longs for something she should rise up and take it. Instead, she subordinates herself to my will becoming my tool.

I will not let her in.

I will not be corrupted by her weakness.

The weak have no right to complain.

I am strong…

Clearing my mind, I look to the girl at my side. 'I need you to deliver these letters to Solomon Kas and Tabitha Enderich', I say as I hand her the sealed envelopes on my desk. Taking them, Rachel walks to the exit.

She turns around.

'You think you're using me, don't you?' Rachel asks, though by her tone it's clear she's not seeking an answer. 'You think I'm some tool to do your bidding? Well, you might be right, I just sold you my everything, but…' She pauses. 'When you graduate and leave this place, I'm coming with you. That's what I agreed to! That's the choice I made.'

'Whatever heights you reach, I'll be at your side enjoying the view. Not even you, almighty Tension Master, can break a spirit pledge. So go ahead and look down on me, but I made my choice, and for once in my life, I had one to make.' With exaggerated motions, Rachel bows and exits my dorm.

Not even I can break a spirit pledge? Is she really so naive as to think I would walk into battle with no armour? I can break our contract at any time. When the time is right, that's just what I'll do. Outside the academy walls, what good are you to me? You're frail and weak. At the first sight of danger, you'll snap like a twig, and then what?

I'll be alone.

No...

The summit is for me and me alone. No one is qualified to stand at my side. I will reap vengeance on my enemies. I will ascend the Grand Tower. I will claim Ember's Crown. All who stand in my way will be forgotten by history and consigned to the grave.

Who does she think she is to talk about standing beside me? As if I need her at all? As if I need anyone? Tabitha! Solomon! Lucas! Rachel! Tarik…

Amy…

The ghost of her melts my frozen heart. Blood pumps anew through my veins, chasing out the cold. In an instant, a terrible instant, I feel everything. The hope of companionship, the radiance of her smile, the kindness of her words... The grief of her loss. In a life filled with bloodshed and hardship, she was nice to me. She supported me. Expecting nothing in return, she was there for me. But, where is she now?

Gone.

She's gone!

They're all gone!

Everyone I've ever cared about leaves me in the end…

For one moment back there, for one dazzlingly brilliant moment in the sun, I almost forgot who I am. I almost forgot I'm a killer. I almost forgot I belong to the dark. I thought I could change. I wanted to change. I blocked out my thoughts and put on a mask. The mask of a man I can never be. Where did it get me? What did I achieve? Once again, I am alone. I see through this life. The violence, the killing, the torture, the death. They're not aberrations, they are the point. The big eat the small, the strong crush the weak. That is the way of this world.

So no, she will not see the peaks I will scale. She will not leave this place. The only view that girl will enjoy is that of the ground, as she kneels, and she bows, and she serves, for the rest of her life.

The weak have no right to complain. That is what she is.

Weak.

A chill passes through me, freezing everything it comes in contact with. I feel my mind return to me, and in an instant, I'm restored. Dispelling the miasma of Tension that had gathered around me, I turn my mind back to my real concerns.

With the bait I've set, there's no question both Tabitha and Solomon will bite. The only question is, how hard? To get what I have, I have no doubt they'd do whatever it takes. The issue is, brutes of the world always think that what it takes is brutality. They'll come for me, and when they do, I'll be ready.