Asrael’s arm held Eleanor tightly against her as Yurgen’s rhythmic pacing rocked them back and forth in between his two impressive lumps. It had cost them most their gold, but they were now clad in dry, reptile-skin clothing beneath oiled, green overalls that reeked of the chemicals used to repel the constant rain. Eleanor had never worn a hat and found it an unusual experience- the wide-brimmed, tall, pointed, green hat with a red cross painted atop its body had slapped Asrael’s face a few times, but after some aggressive corrections, she had learned to lean forwards as to not shower him with the drizzle. Between them, they had various supplies purchased from the marketeers- most of which were alien concepts to the city-dwelling girl, but items well known to the academic gripping her from behind.

Yurgen’s feet thumped against the downtrodden, narrow path leading further out into the east. If at all possible, Eleanor could not shake the sensation that the mist was growing thicker by the pace of the impressive camel- despite the ancient, rotten trees growing increasingly less sparse. Asrael hadn’t spoken a word to her since they left the city, but she found herself enjoying this silent attention of his and reveled in the factum he had chosen her to go on this journey, rather than any of his other companions. Then again... her not having spoken a word as to demand an explanation was likely part of the reason he had chosen her to begin with. Her mind burned with questions about this new, strange lands and the many decisions he had made before they set out on their journey- a journey that was yet to be explained by the necromancer.

A shift from the necromancer’s companion briefly brought him out from his musings- reminding him that he had chosen to bring her along. She had yet to speak a word- raising the question whether she had inherited the inquisitive nature of a good magus, but her frequent glances over her shoulder revealed that she was likely only holding her tongue as to not be scolded.

“We are headed west. There is a Rift close-by and I wish to see it. I must see it.” He muttered. It was neither her desire nor her place to protest or question her Master’s decision and so she simply nodded. “Y-yes, Master...” The hesitation made it sound more like a question than any acknowledgement. Wishing not to invite her into thinking it was acceptable to question his choice of companions or explore the scolding of her fellow student, he continued: “It is not far- not geographically, at least. But these lands are fraught with dangers. Had it not been for my soldiers, we would likely already have been consumed by the dozen-or-so reptiles that have laid in wait to assault us.

She swallowed and finally made sense of the distant rustling from out in the fog and imagined the necromancer’s underlings would be busy scurrying their perimeter. “R-Right... H-have you been here before?” He hesitated for a moment, before nodded at her back- raining some drizzle down at her from his own hat.

“Yes. I believe I was about fifteen summers old- if memory serves me correct. I was touring the lands with my Master as we researched the flora surrounding the Rifts... or so he claimed. I never saw his notes.” There was a darkness to his voice- a much more profound, bitter tinge to it, than was usual- a feat on its own. Before she could find a way to prod his foul mood, he continued: “Regardless... any magus should know how to survive in the wild. We are, in essence, explorers of the unknown and you will find yourself out in hostile environments often. Consider this part of your apprenticeship.” Her inquisition faded for a moment as she took in the promise of learning.

Smiling, she nodded and again slapped his face with her pointed hat- earning her a grunt and a tightening of the arm around her abdomen. “You should not be so quick to become excited. As I lack most vital functions, I do not need sustenance nor do I require a way to eliminate. You, however, will soon learn that parasites- external and internal, will be quick to leap at the foolish morsel that has passed into their domain.” The bemused malice in his voice spoke of painful experiences that he had long awaited to share with another.

“P-parasites?” Rhythmic drizzles rained down upon her as he nodded his wide-brimmed hat. “Ticks like you would not believe will find their way into every nook and cranny of your body. Worms- long enough to span your entire gastric system, will tickle your anus as they consume your food from inside you. Oh- you will suffer greatly over the next, few days, but your body will be stronger for it.” She swallowed and considered whether this adventure truly was to perform some form of study or simply a journey to torture her and relieve him of some of his tension.

She fell silent as she imagined the ticks feasting on her blood and shuddered. Surprisingly, Asrael stroked her shoulder again and spoke with an unexpected warmth. “But worry not. As opposed to my Master- I am not a sadist...” Both fell silent as the absurdity of his claim immediately dawned upon them. Objectively, he very much was a sadist, but Ellie knew that Asrael always had his reasons for being cruel. “I-it’s just not always s-so obvious...” She whispered to herself and bit down on her lower lip.

Despite being promised the torture, Ellie felt oddly relieved to hear something other than bitter pain on her Master’s voice. Still... something had happened the previous evening- something she wished to explore and was it not her right to have earned a smidgen of insight into his mind? Especially when it pertained to magic- what he had promised to teach her.

Mustering the courage to open her mouth again, she ran her fingers through Yurgen’s fur and whispered: “M-Master... M-may I ask... what happened back there?” Asrael’s arm tensed around her waist. Though she could not see his face, she imagined he narrowed his eyes and grimaced- the way he always did, when faced with discomfort. After a long, drawn-out grunt, he spoke with a dire tinge to his voice:

“I bore witness to an abomination of science. It is- it should be an impossibility, yet I saw it with my own eyes...” She heard him mutter- barely loud enough to be heard over the rain. As if he could sense her confusion, he continued, albeit louder: “I have taught you of the core- the body from which all expression of magic is drawn. It is a trinity- consisting of the mind, the body and the soul.” Her body jerked against Yurgen’s back as she nodded.

“I-I understand-”

“You do not. I do not expect you to- very few have the facilities to understand the metaphysical nature of the core. Regardless, I will inform you that it is an anchoring point- tying your mind and body to the soul that exists halfway in this world and halfway beyond the Rift. It is a tremendously powerful body of energy that is released from your corporeal flesh as the body dies.” He paused to let the knowledge sink in, at which point she stared out in the swirling mists ahead and attempted to visualize the mysterious knowledge.

He continued: “When I was still alive, the magics of our world were dying and with them, so were we. Some mad men theorized that the core could be utilized in feeding the world with magic, but the ethical aspects aside, fetching the soul through the veil appeared an impossible task.” Eleanor looked over her shoulder, only to nearly topple off of Yurgen as Asrael tensed his grip around her and forced her to look ahead.

“But what I saw in that room- that rune... it was an inhumane creation. Somehow, it drew their souls through the veil and tore them open- disintegrating all that they were and ever would be.” Ellie sat uncomfortable in the following blanket of silence- broken only by the patter of rain and Yurgen’s feet against the mud.

“M-Master... can I ask why that bothers you?” She expected he was hardly surprised. If he was, he made certain not to sound it.

“Not much is known of the soul. I discard any foolish notion of afterlives, yet-… what plagues me is that I do not know why the sight of the spell unnerved me. I did not recognize most of the hieroglyphics- nor am I currently capable of understanding what energies were involved in the process of the cores’ destruction. But the alien in itself has always intrigued me, rather than repulsed me... why, then am I-” It seemed her Master only then became aware that he spoke his musings aloud and abruptly silenced himself.

Ellie- hoping to hear her Master continue- turned over her shoulder and urged: “M-maybe it’s a natural thing? Like how watching someone vomit makes us vomit, too?” This time, he did not force her to look ahead. Instead, he seemed to consider her suggestion.

“Perhaps. But you seem to forget that I do not suffer from your living weaknesses, nor was I ever affected by the act of watching someone regurgitate. No... this is something far more profound and the answer to this question balances at the furthest precipice of my mind, but I cannot grasp it.” He sounded frustrated, more than anything, but she had to admit... she was enjoying the tightening embrace around her chest and waist. Hearing the long, drawn-out exhalation, he released the tension and shook his head to sprinkle yet more rain down atop her.

Disgusted by his own, momentary weakness, he refocused his prodding apprentice by tasking her with: “If your mind is idle enough to prod where you do not belong, then it has the capacity to recite the Daemonic alphabet. From the top.” As much as it saddened her that the moment had passed, it pleased her to hear him snap from his sulking. Following a long, drawn-out exhalation of her own, she began: “Aphraegan-…"