I wake to a sense of wonderful dread. Wonderful for the exalted pleasure of multiple sacrifices. Dreadful because I still have a quarter of a day before it fades, and Alan is expecting to meet for morning lessons. Ironic, since usually I want to prolong the power rather than hasten its fade.

The letter I wrote to Alan in case things went wrong last night is still on the bed next to my head. I don’t remember seeing it last night. Likely I was distracted, but it’s hard not to think that Alan might have opened and resealed it (easily done for him) for one of his strange hidden reasons he’s prone to.

Of course, he’s never lied to me before, so acting out such a deceit would be crossing a new line. I need to trust that he wouldn’t do that. Still, there is some unexplained dread of his knowing my actions last night. I don’t know why I should care, but his feeling on the gambling is clear, to say nothing of the other events last night.

Footsteps of a servant are coming down the hall to wake me for my crepuscular magic training. I open the door a crack right before they do and tell them to inform Alan that I’ll be going for a protracted walk in a neighbouring section, and not to expect me for lessons.

I lose myself in the city, wanting to be anywhere but back at the house. The wait for the boon to fade is agonizing – travel always seems to take longer when you have to be someplace. Why do I even bother? What will he even do if he finds out?

Not wanting to learn, nor come back empty handed, I visit a bookstore. It’s a pleasant enough place to pass an hour or two, though I feel awkward perusing longer than that. I do find a few books on subjects that Alan’s otherwise impressive collection lacks. A basic alchemy book and a book specializing in my rod divination. Very expensive, almost as much as books of spells, but I’m flushed after last night.

There’s also an interesting book on magic application for material alterations. There are no spells in it, just techniques for applying spells recorded elsewhere. It reminds me of Erika. Perhaps it’ll help me decide what to think about how she uses magic. I buy all three without much more thought.

I still have a few hours to go before the boon expires, so I go to a tea house near the river and read my purchases there until I can go back. A pleasant place whose bustle is just quiet enough to hear the flowing waters.

Last night… was it necessary? I wanted to be cornered, and I wanted an in with the Talhals, but why? The power I’m getting seems less with each sacrifice, at least comparing the gain with what I already have. I’m still gaining power, but do I need it? The physical aspect is nice, but it’s not like I’m trying to compete with knights on their terms. What I have now is more than enough to put me above the average person, even one with a basic boon. Getting it up to intermediate level would be nice, but would probably take at least another hundred sacrifices, and it’s not like I’m helpless against people with that level of strength. Likewise, while the power of my spells increases each time, it also increases just from learning new spells and using old ones.

It's the typical progression of an Anar cultist: Accrue enough sacrifices to force the world into accepting you as a mage, then give yourself over to Tacyn’s silence once study becomes more efficient for growth than sacrifice. I’ve only kept up so long because the war made teachers scarce and victims plentiful.

But… I can’t give it up. I thought gaining access to the orb might help alleviate my desire for sacrifice, but I know that’s only partly true. The power is a good thing, but I do it for the pleasure. I don’t even think sacrifice will improve the success of my mission anymore. More power is good, but not if it hinders my goals. I just…

The itching is always the worst when a boon ends, yet this time it’s hardly present at all. Seeing no reason to tarry longer, I head back to the house. It’s time for lunch when I arrive, so I join Alan in the dining room. He normally takes meals in the garden or sometimes studio if he’s in the middle of a painting, but the servants inform me he’s in the more formal room.

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We have a light conversation as we eat, talking about where I went this morning, and the books I found. He seems pleased that I’ve taken an interest in Erika’s goals, yet for some reason I feel a tension in him. Then suddenly he cuts straight to what we have been avoiding.

“I didn’t hear you come home last night.”

“…I didn’t want to wake you.” There’s the faintest question of where I went in his eyes. I hesitate, knowing he’ll disapprove, but I’m already hiding one thing from him, I don’t want to hide more than I have to. He is my handler after all, this won’t work if I don’t trust him. “I accepted Greg’s invitation to a game.”

Alarm races across his face, far too brief for an ordinary person to catch. “I see… how did it go?”

“Very well. I’m thinking about visiting the magic shop again before school starts.”

“That is well…”

“I know. He’s a snake. It was a trap, I knew that too. But I won, and I got what I wanted from the situation.”

“Which was?”

“An introduction to his patrons, the Talhals.” Does he catch my hesitation? My glaring omission?

“Oh.” His face turns inwards, no doubt thinking about his professed inability to do the same. “Why do you need to be introduced to them?”

“…I don’t know anymore.”

His face is awash in emotion. “Listen, I don’t…” He turns aside, suddenly unsure how to continue.

A tightness takes my chest. I don’t want to be in this room anymore. “I’m going to my room. I need to take a bath,” I say getting up to leave.

“Wait,” he says and I stop. “Just… let me know when you do something risky like that, ok? I was worried.”

“I left a note on my bed,” I say, unsure how to deal with the admission.

“I guess I didn’t see it.”

“Right, I’ll be more direct next time,” I say, then leave.

What was that? Why is my chest so tight? I would occasionally get into disagreements with Gebal, but I never felt this way afterwards. I always knew that our purposes were in accord, but not so with Alan. I don’t even know why I should care what his purpose is if it’s not mine, but for some reason I do.

The bath is relaxing, but I leave it in less than an hour. The itching doesn’t return, but muscles tense the longer I try to relax.

I go to the magic shop the next day as planned. The first thing I get is an alteration to Tanyth’s cloak clasp. It’s nice, but redundant to the enchantment done directly to my magic garbs. They add a symbol linking the enchantments, making it faster and capable of greater intricacy. A second set of symbols allows it to change colours automatically to match its surroundings. There’s still a delay, and it’s not as good as a real invisibility spell, but it’s close, possibly better when paired with my stealth spell.

The second alteration is to the smoke catcher, adding a second chamber. I should have realized this sooner, but I use the catcher for two different goals, one to hide regular smoke and the other to accumulate smoke with special properties. These are at odds with each other since the smoke from the bodies have diluted the nightswirl to the point of uselessness. As such I ask for a second chamber to be added, which they readily and cheaply do without question.

I also get a few more magic bolts and blades. Nothing fancy, except another iron phasing dagger, just some extra weapons that are relatively cheap. I probably won’t even keep the blades on my person. Just hide them around the place in case I need to suddenly grab one. An absurd scenario for it to be useful, but it makes me feel comfortable knowing they’re there.

Finally, I get a set of magic social clothes. They have all the standard protection, mending, cleaning and colour changing features common to the items in the shop, but with an additional feature of being able to change shape to match a set of mundane clothing. A vital function I’m told, since otherwise it’d be far too expensive to have a fashionable variety. At the very least I won’t feel Alan’s efforts to pick me out clothing a waste.

I look in the mirror wearing my new clothes. I feel good seeing myself in them, knowing that I acquired them with my own effort. Yet something about that same knowledge eats away at the enjoyment. Like I’m rewarding myself for failure, but I shake the feeling off. Greg set a trap for me, and I won. Benefiting from the victory is only fitting.

The week passes quickly, with little itching. Alan notes my improved mood, though he doesn’t seem to suspect the cause of alleviation. A letter arrives from Greg the day before the ceremony. The Talhals are amiable to the dual patronage. Only upon reading this do I realize I was hoping for the opposite, but I guess I’m stuck in my course now.

Moreover, they wish me to meet a representative as expected. One of their children happens to have been admitted to the academy too. They suggest I meet him on the way to the ceremony and attend together. A pity, I was hoping that observing all the pomp and ceremony might be enjoyable, and I might lose myself in it were I on my own. Though it can’t be all bad. Perhaps he’ll have some interesting insights.