Power. Inscription. Form. Interpretation. Definition. Execution.

Performing a ritual was a curious art. Much like learning a written language, it did not matter that you knew how to write it if you couldn’t read. And even if you knew that, it would be equally pointless if you didn’t know the rules behind how to comprehend it.

The Shikigami Ritual was no different. If anything, it was rather pedestrian compared to some of the things Inanna had told him of. Once you weathered her prickly exterior, she was quite the conversationalist, sometimes even instigating verbal arguments simply so that she could converse. He, of course, happily pretended not to notice these things, and Inanna pretended not to know that he knew.

Lukas chuckled, remembering his experiences with the goddess.

Accessing the bremetan prototype made him understand one thing above all— bremetans, by nature, did not actually understand what they were doing while performing the ritual. They didn’t know how to read or write the craft. Instead, it was more like they were made to practice doing one thing over and over, until they could perform it perfectly in their sleep. They could successfully do it, but they did not understand the intricacies of their actions, nor the significance of it either.

No wonder ifrits are omens of bad luck, Lukas mused. Bonding anything of this level through rudimentary binding would be awful for the bremetan.

It was a surprise bremetans even bound kami to themselves in the first place. But then, he remembered how the majority of bremetans actually ended up making familiars out of physical monsters instead of binding the spiritual being, and everything fell into place.

He glanced up at the ifrit.

“My name is Lukas Aguilar,” he declared, “and I have come to bind you!”

The ifrit answered his proclamation by sending a burst of flames in his direction. Coating his arm with lifeforce, Lukas deflected it without a second thought.

“Cheap shot,” he muttered. Not that he expected any other outcome.

Rituals were all about intent. If a one-time confirmation was good, then two was better.

“My name is Lukas Aguilar, and I have come to bind you!” he repeated.

Lukas grinned as another torrent of flames came towards him. So far, it was going just as he’d planned. Pulling his ax down from his pauldron, he dug it into the ground and dashed ahead, pumping lifeforce into his legs. The fireballs fell, but he was already north by the times the flames hit the ground. The ifrit poured more flames, but Lukas moved further north, before quickly pivoting towards the southwest. Sprinting further, he then altered his course northeast, then back towards the west, then finally southeast.

Leaping back a step, he then went around in a circle, his ax still lodged into the ground.

And then, he was right back where he started.

Save for one difference.

Dug into the ground was an enormous five-pointed star. A pentagram, as the Romans would say. The five points each represented a single element — fire, water, air, earth, and spirit. It was the Asukan symbol of mental and spiritual domination, a perfect subjugation using the balancing scales of all five elements to trap a being that represented one or two of them.

Around the star, acting as a periphery, was a giant circle. Together with the pentagram, it now formed a slightly altered symbol. The pentacle. It was a shape that the planet Venus traced in the night sky once every eight years. The symbol of Inanna. The manifestation of her Truth.

Lust.

Desire.

Forceful absorption made manifest.

And what else was the Shikigami Ritual but a forceful absorption of a spiritual being by exchanging soul capacity.

A predatory grin gleamed on Lukas’s face as he stood at the center of his diagram.

“HEAR ME! I AM LUKAS AGUILAR, AND I HAVE COME TO BIND YOU!”

Twice was great, but as they said, the third time’s the charm.

The ifrit roared.

Tanya’s mouth was ajar as Lukas performed the ritual. Never in her life had she seen such a modified version. It was doubly shocking, seeing as how he was not supposed to know how to perform the ritual. After all, he was no bremetan.

“A modified Shikigami Ritual designed mid-battle. Not a common sight,” Mori murmured. With her collection now accomplished, the svartalfar collector watched as Lukas bound the powerful ifrit through unconventional means. “He’s really something, is he not?”

Tanya couldn’t help but frown at that. Being of interest to the svartalfars was one thing, but being interesting was something else entirely. Lukas was quickly shifting from the former category to the latter, if the wistful expression on Mori’s face was any indication.

Flies were caught with honey. Moths were killed with a flame. Svartalfars were attracted through acts of creation. Of true art. And currently, Lukas was performing something new. Something unique. Something she was certain the svartalfars hadn’t seen before.

The five-pointed star had always been the go-to symbol for the ritual— absolute domination over the kami in exchange for soul capacity. But with the absolute domination came an absolute impact on one’s faculties from the sudden increment of one of the five elements. It was why most spiritists tended to reflect their kami in personality and mannerisms.

But Lukas was doing something different.

A circle of binding, yet touching all five points?

It symbolized power. Uniform power from five elements, but bordered by restraint. Accumulation of power and then restraining it? What fool would possibly do that? And yet…

It was working.

Each time the ifrit tried to attack him, the flames would get dispersed into the five vertices, which were starting to glow. She heard Lukas mutter in a language she didn’t understand, while the ifrit was slowly dragged lower and lower despite its attempts to escape the ritual.

She was right. The binding circle kept the ifrit from escaping, but it also locked Lukas within. It was like an isolated chamber, bringing the beast and the binder together, but separated from the rest of the world.

Dangerous, but it was working.

She watched with bated breath as Lukas pulled the ifrit down the rest of the way, until it reverted back into the pseudo-physical form, complete with a pair of legs and smoldering coals as eyes. It glared at Lukas with a mix of anger and morbid curiosity. It was clear that whatever he did had worked. He’d conquered the ifrit and bound it to himself. A perfect binding.

Even better than my own Bind with Ezzeron.

That left her with a single question.

How did an Outsider learn the Shikigami ritual? And who taught him to perfect it?

“Oh… merciless winds,” Mori cursed.

“What’s wrong?”

Mori pointed towards the binding circle. Or, rather, the air within the circle. The ifrit was tamed, but it seemed the circle was still active. The Shikigami Ritual was still going on. And unwittingly enough, there was something else now caught up within.

Something ancient and primal.

Tanya looked up at the sky. The only thing that was up there, within the binding circle’s area of power, was—

“Oh no…” she muttered.

High above, the thunderclouds rumbled.