Isil concentrated, feeling the dissolving remnants of a spell. The spell fragments were concentrated near the heart, which seemed to be the king’s connection point to his soul. The fragments seemed to flit in and out of the point. She frowned. Spell fragments were lingering packets of a caster’s mana that still had some of the spell instructions left impressed upon it. Complex spells would leave more, shorter-lasting spell fragments, and less complex ones were the opposite. Most importantly, they still could be identified as the caster’s mana, meaning it would not be able to pass through a connection point, only mana that had intent behind it could do that.
However, the way the fragments moved seemed as if they weren’t being controlled. They weren’t merging together, but rather drifting aimlessly around the body. Isil was left utterly confused as she watched two spell fragments collide and break apart, the instructions imprinted on them disappearing and the mana dispersing. She rubbed the bridge of her nose, at a loss on how to handle this.
She already knew the purpose of the spell, and looking at its components only verified it. What was happening to the king was still a complete mystery to her. She didn’t want to investigate his soul, as that was a very personal breach of privacy, but at this point, she saw little other choice. Any attempt to modify the fragments ended in their destruction, leaving her with only one option left.
“So, can you remove it?” Hassar demanded.
“Hold your horses, it hasn’t even been a minute.” Isil said.
“Considering its your spell, it should be easy enough to remove in seconds, yes? What’s the purpose in your delay?”
“Sorry, but when did I ever say this was my spell? I came here to break it, not cast it.”
“More lies?”
“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Isil opened her eyes and glared at Hassar. “Do you really think that I came here to do something like this? I’d be a failure of an assassin if I let myself get caught, and doing this for a royal favor is already retarded if I can get in here legally. Please, if you can conjure up some complicated reason as to why I did all of this, then be my guest.”
“...” Hassar was silent.
“I thought not. Now please, let me do my work.”
Isil sighed, and made up her mind. She cautiously delved into the king’s connection point, making sure to only send the bare minimum of mana. Her senses were instantly overwhelmed by the sheer presence of something. She tried to focus on the king’s soul, but the presence seemed to dominate everything. Thankfully, it seemed as though it hadn’t noticed her, so while she struggled to get an idea of what was happening, it didn’t bother her.
Sweat began to form on her brow as the connection became tough to maintain. She sent more mana in through the connection point, lessening her strain. The more mana she sent, the easier it was to see what was in his soul. While she couldn’t see the presence itself, she saw it absorbing the fragments, adding them to a giant, shattered globe that represented what she assumed to be the original spell, based on how easily the fragments merged with the globe.
Isil had never heard of something like the presence, but seeing the spell globe, she could understand the minimum of its power. The spell had the complexity of an Omega spell, but the mana in it was more than half of her entire mana pool. She couldn’t even fathom what kind of being would even cast this kind of-
She froze. She recalled her conversation with Belleb, remembering something important he had said about the Legions. They were powerful enough to destroy the divines, they would certainly have enough potential to create a spell like this. She also recalled another thing he said. She would eventually arrive at their place, and would be killed by them.
Did they want to kill her from the beginning, or would she make them want to kill her? Isil didn’t think about it as panic overtook her. Her mana flared and she poured it through the connection point, launching a powerful attack at the being and its spell globe. It screeched unnaturally, the sound itself attacking her mana. The spell globe began to fall apart, all the fragments that had been gathered being swept away or destroyed.
With more mana funneling into the connection point, she finally could see the true form of the Legionnaire. It was… an angel, there was no more apt description. Wings of pure white, a face without blemish, irises of a golden hue, and an unstained white toga. For any other person, its appearance would’ve made them calm and at peace, but for Isil, it only inspired fear and her survival instinct.
Though the mana shriek had caught her off-guard, she didn’t hesitate to respond with more mana and lethal force. Stingers of mana lashed out at the Legionnaire, cutting into its body in multiple different places. It responded in kind, conjuring a sword of light and cutting away whatever got close. Some slipped through and injured its body, but the ones that got cut lost connection to Isil and faded away.
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More sounds came from it, much like a language, but not any she heard of before. She didn’t bother listening, and switched her tactics. She withdrew the mana stingers and rounded up her mana into ten balls. She then launched the balls at the Legionnaire, controlling each of them in such a way that they moved erratically. It blocked two balls, and dodged one, but the other seven hit their target.
It seemed to have caused severe damage, as the presence it previously had rapidly faded away. It screamed in pain, and shot towards the location of her mana. She had used up a significant amount creating the balls, but she had enough to form a spiked defensive wall, and began funneling in more mana to support it. However, it didn’t attack her mana, but instead slipped in a gap without attacking, escaping the king’s soul through his connection point.
Isil accidentally cursed aloud as she felt it escape. Her eyes flew open and her mana withdrew from the king’s soul. She spotted the transparent figure the Legionnaire, dim and as small as her palm. She gathered mana in her hand, quickly forming it into a Mana Grasp spell.
“Why have you-” The Legionnaire began to demand, its voice barely more than a whisper.
Isil’s hand shot out and crushed the figure of the Legionnaire in her hand, a faint scream echoing through her head before it finally disappeared. She let out a breath of relief, but kept alert, her intuition telling her she hadn’t killed it yet. She took deep breaths to calm her racing heart as she sat back down.
“… Does this make me a Satanist?” Isil murmured, her mind lingering on the appearance of the Legionnaire.
“W-what the hell was that?!” Someone cried out in disbelief.
“Did that, was that-?” Someone else was at a loss for words.
“Calm down!” Hassar slammed the butt of his staff on the floor. “What was that thing?” He turned to Isil and asked.
“… I haven’t the damnedest idea.” Isil responded, half-truthfully.
“Well, did you at least cure majesty?”
“‘Cure’ is a bad word. He was never sick to begin with. Whatever that thing was, it was keeping him unconscious to repair the initial damage I did to the spell in him. It won’t last long without something to start fixing it.”
“In Common, please.” A royal knight said.
“He should be fine.”
“Hassar?”
“A moment, please.” Hassar said, placing his hand on the king’s head and closing his eyes.
Isil waited as the royal magician investigated the king’s body. She scooted her chair back a bit and leaned back, taking a moment to calm herself. She was certain the angel she saw was a Legionnaire. It seemed to be a being of pure energy, or something like that. She wasn’t quite sure how it worked, so all she could so was speculate. As for what it was doing, that was far more clear.
The spell that kept the king from remembering her had been broken when she spoke of everything they had been through. It must’ve come down from wherever it was hiding and tried to repair the spell. If her intuition was right, and it was still alive, then it retreated back to wherever it came from. As for where it came from? If she remembered correctly, the letter from the Creator called it Heaven.
It made sense. Angels and Heaven. Like peanut butter and jelly, or… Isil suddenly had trouble finding two things that fit together. She pondered on that for a bit, when suddenly an analogy sprang to mind. Like mages and towers. She wanted to laugh at that, but she hadn’t forgotten the Legionnaire, so she wasn’t really in the laughing mood.
“I can sense… nothing at work. The spell fragments are dissolving faster than normal.” Hassar said, breaking her moment of thought.
“That’s good?” A royal knight asked.
“Yes, that’s good.”
“When will he reawaken?”
“Soon, I believe. Not sure how soon, but within the next half-day.”
“In the meantime, what should we do with her?” The royal knight pointed at Isil, who looked up in surprise.
“Oh hey, you finally acknowledge my existence. It wasn’t like I did all the work or anything.” Isil sat back in the chair.
“The dungeon sounds good.” Hassar got up to leave.
“I just love the hospitality around here. I come in to meet an old friend, try to save his life, get arrested and beaten up, actually save his life this time, and then get thrown in the dungeon. Also, if I remember correctly, I just explained to all of you why I’m innocent! So why am I being thrown in the dungeons?!”
“Fine!” Hassar practically spat, giving her an annoyed glare. “Put her in one of the guest rooms and lock her up. No matter what you say, no one here believes your innocence.”
“Honestly, I don’t care what you think. So be it, take me off to whatever room you see fit.”
“… Come with me then.” A royal knight waved at her.
Isil followed him out of the room casually, noticing another naturally falling in behind her. She gazed around the castle, trying to remember what corridors and rooms she had been in and which ones she hadn’t. It was difficult, as she had not visited the Ashiron royal castle in a long time, and her memory had already mostly faded. She sometimes thought she recognized a painting or location, but she was never really sure.
“Here it is.” The lead knight said, opening the door to a rather small room.
“This is a guest room? Not a standalone servant’s bedroom? Actually, I’d be more surprised if you had the latter.” Isil said, starting to ramble on.
“Enough out of you,” The royal knight hissed. “Do you ever shut your mouth?!”
Isil coyly cocked her head to the side in apparent confusion.
“So now you shut up… Just get in. You will be dealt with when the king awakens.”
Isil complied without speaking, walking into the room and taking a quick look around. She didn’t bother turning around when she heard the door slam shut and the lock click. She rubbed the bridge of her nose and flopped down on the bed, exhausted. She didn’t want to think about the task in front of her, because no matter how simple it seemed at first, it was anything but that.
She stared at the dark ceiling, hoping some semblance of tiredness would come to her. If it was, it wasn’t coming fast enough. She sighed and rolled around in the bed, not bothering to get up to get under the covers. She didn’t bother changing into lighter clothes, as the ones she was wearing were comfortable enough, and she was weary of putting in effort on anything. Her head hit the pillow, and she realized it was going to be some time before she actually fell asleep.