PROFANE

Sibyl's POV

"Sibyl? Are you with us?" A voice asked, soft and comforting.

There was screaming, she knew it was hers, but she couldn't feel it happening. It was like things were slowly, painfully, falling into place. A broken mind being forcefully shoved back together, seams of her flesh stitching itself back whole. The smell of iron and herbs was the first thing to feel real, her sense of smell helping to ground her back to the world. Then she heard beyond her own screaming to the chanting, melodic voice of someone familiar. The voice held a masculine tenor, full enunciation of each word, lilting up and down in a minor key… she soon recognized it as Aleister.

Then, her vision was back, and then the feeling in her body. It was like her body was on fire, being purified through its flames. She tried to hold her screams in, turning them into cries and whimpers. All four limbs were tied down, her arms above her head. She was laying on the ground, and as she turned her head she realized she was in some sort of huge arcane symbol, the intricate symbol glowing a bright pink.

"Sibyl, Sibyl, look at me. Listen to me," Merle was kneeling down beside her, just outside of the arcane symbol.

Sibyl almost cried out at her appearance. Merle was a mix of bird and fae, her face more like a fae but with feathers sticking out at random points, her hands and feet some horrific mix of fingers, toes, and talons.

"Sibyl, it's okay, I'm okay, you're okay," she said softly, her honeyed eyes gazing at her, "but I need you to listen to me."

Sibyl took deep breaths, closing her eyes and softly nodding. She knew what she needed to do. The pain was just a distraction, the burning was nothing more than a commercial break in her thus far mediocre life.

"Good, good girl," Merle breathed, "Aleister is trying to repair you, but that demon basically obliterated your entire midsection…"

Tears welled up in Sibyl's eyes. She fought the helplessness away, she wouldn't allow herself to shut down now.

"It will take more mana than Aleister has to regenerate everything you have from scratch," Merle continued, her voice getting a bit softer, "but he can save you, we just need your permission."

Sibyl opened her eyes and looked at her, her eyes pleading, "What," she choked on her own blood for a moment, "just tell me," she finally struggled out.

Merle looked away, her expression unreadable. Her pause seemed to take forever and finally she spoke, "We must graft you. We will take the body of a preserved, but dead, fae and use it to heal your own. You will no longer be human, but you will not be fae either. This is the only way."

Merle looked back to her and repeated, "This is the only way."

Tears streamed down Sibyl's face, then proceeded to go into a massive coughing fit, choking on her snot and blood together. Becoming a mutt didn't seem so bad in theory in a world that had already completely abandoned it's humanity, but when offered it before in the past, months ago during a mana theory lesson with Aleister, she had the realization that all in this new world she was in she desperately just somehow want to remain herself. Deep down, she felt that she'd lose herself if she melded with another species in such an unnatural, profane way. Yet, now, here she was, without a choice. How could she remain herself if she was dead?

She softly nodded and Merle stood, turning to Aleister.

"Contract accepted. Proceed with the second stage," she said coolly.

"Second stage commencing," Dominic replied in the same, empty tone.

Aleister's POV

It wasn't every day that a Sculptor could properly practice their skills, but when they did it was a sight to behold. Aleister felt the giddiness in his soul ignite as everyone did their job, all of them playing a part in his play. Dominic, his personal mana battery, was behind him, channeling all his mana into Aleister at the correct rate at the proper times. Merle was moving swiftly, pulling the preserved fae out of the freezer room connected to his lab.

"Oh, my love," Aleister allowed himself a moment to think, "you'd love to know how even after death you played a part in this play."

The fae was beautiful, her body and hair all a pure white, as if she herself was a reflection of light. She was decorated in arcane symbolism, the tattoos reaching the sides of her face and even the bottoms of her feet. Merle moved her body off the surgical table she was on into the large arcane symbol beside Sibyl. Aleister stood between the two symbols. He moved both his hands, each one taking a place inside of a symbol.

He took a deep breath and went silent. From here on out, all spell work would be internal. This was no simple restoration, it was more, greater. In his field of vision a prompt rose.

{PROCEED WITH SOUL ALTERATION?}

{YES/NO}

He mentally selected yes.

{PROCEED WITH TRANSCENDENT NECROMANCY?}

{YES/NO}

He selected yes again and a wild grin appeared on his face, exposing his needle-like teeth.

Lines upon lines of alterations appeared in his vision. Every time he got the chance to do this he felt like a master of the flesh. A conductor getting the chance to lead a majestic band in the most wonderful songs. The soul alterations began first, tearing the seams of her spirit, opening it up to more than her mortal frame could hold. Then, the transcendent necromancy started. Most fae would never become powerful enough to do one or the other, but Aleister was capable of doing both at once, which was a prerequisite to what he was attempting now. His grin became wider.

His past lover's body began to break apart, pieces flying through the air and wrapping themselves around Sibyl. Her skin was grafted into Sibyl's own, looking like when people used fish skin for burn victims. Her internal organs moved into Sibyl's flesh, sewing themselves in as if they always belonged there. Merle was forced to look away as her past friend was turned into some sort of monstrous organ donor. Aleister's breath became labored as he worked, the more lines appearing in his vision the more mana he used, and the more his mind strained.

"Aleister, I don't have much mana left," Dominic groaned, sweating drenching his whole body.

Aleister shut him out, concentrating on just what was in front of his vision. The hardest part came next. Blood ran from his nose as he moved the fae's mana system, their form of a nervous system, into Sibyl. It was like watching a bunch of cotton candy pink strings lift from the fae's body and watching them melt into Sibyl's skin. Then, it was time for her Center. Each fae's center was in a different place and could be above or below the skin. This fae's was in her sternum, which was exactly where he moved it to for Sibyl. The lightless gem ripped from the fae's chest then flew into Sibyl's own.

A moment passed while Aleister finished the final touches, fixing her soul back into place. Right before he dropped his arms the gem lit up, shining a dark blue, as it had once on his lover. He panted hard then laughed, throwing his hands in the air. He had succeeded in the profane, and now his play would begin in full motion. Merle and Dominic stared at him with solemn faces, but as he fell to the ground, sitting there in the gore, he did not care. For he had succeeded, again, where all else had failed.