Glyphs

I didn't know what to do.

When was the last time I comforted someone? Or even the last time I felt so... hesitant? Helpless? Powerless?

It had been so long I couldn't even remember. Maybe it had never happened before. And even less for someone I barely knew, but for some reason I couldn't explain, I wanted to reassure her, to stop her sadness, to make her tears stop falling.

Should I tell her everything would be okay? Hug her like they do in some books? Stay silent until she calmed down?

But in the end, I chose to do what I always do,

Say exactly what I think, with no filter.

"I said I'd just listen, but I changed my mind, so I'll tell you what I think. You're right, I have no idea what you've been through or what you're feeling. Honestly, I found everything you told me completely absurd."

She was silent now, waiting for what I'd say next.

"I've never loved or been loved. I just lived... No, actually, now that I think about it, I think there was someone who liked me, but I'm digressing. What I mean is you should live the way you want, even if it's selfish, even if you leave a mountain of corpses behind, even if you have to destroy an entire planet. For me, the purpose of life is just to be happy, no matter what kind of happiness you're looking for. Otherwise, what's the point of living? You might as well die right now."

I lied. I once liked someone.

"I figured out why you've been acting weird lately. You think that if you stay with us, we'll suffer the same fate, don't you? Let me tell you, no one will ever manage to kill the future blood arch-sorcerer Cain ! And it's my duty to protect my servant Ethan, so he won't die. The witch... well, she's a witch. And Klaus is too serious and boring for anyone to want to kill him."

Julia let out a soft chuckle. Had I said something funny?

Well, I said what I wanted to say. Maybe I even said too much.

"Anyway, I'm leaving. Tell Amelia I talked to you—she won't believe me if I say it myself."

I stood up from the small chair when suddenly I felt a strong pull on my arm, nearly making me fall backward.

"Wait, I have a question."

She really has a problem with physical contact. I told her I don't like being touched. Or did I? I think? I don't know.

I had a bad feeling—this girl had a knack for hitting my soft spots.

"Just ask me directly. There's no point in saying 'I have a question.'"

"Why did you tell me all of that?"

The answer was obvious, wasn't it?

"Amelia asked me to talk to you, and in exchange, she'd teach me the lesson I missed."

"Hahaha…"

A pure, crystalline laugh suddenly rang out in the small room.

Great. She's gone mad now ?

I waited for what felt like hours before she caught her breath.

"Oh my god, sorry, I couldn't hold it in. You didn't know ?"

Shit. That bad feeling just got worse. My shoulders grew heavy, my heart started racing, my—

"You didn't miss any lesson."

"..."

"..."

Fucking witch.

*

Two days had passed since my talk with Julia. I spent my days doing physical exercises and practicing meditation from the book.

Though it wasn't as effective outside the special room, at least I wouldn't spend days stuck in there and miss classes.

Today was Monday morning, which meant…

"I'm going to talk to you about what we call glyphs."

The dark-skinned woman with white hair stood at the front of the classroom. Her presence, though invisible, enveloped us all.

I hadn't noticed it before, but the people here seemed to emit a pressure, like a shadow that followed them.

"After consuming the harmonization vial, your bodies can now accept glyphs. They're writings or shapes we use to materialize mana in various forms."

Finally, an interesting class!

"You're probably wondering how it works. The answer is simple, nobody know. Neither humans nor any other race has solved this mystery. The only certainty is that these glyphs were found in ruins so ancient they feel like they've always been there. As if they were placed here even before the first life was born on this planet."

I don't care how it works, just give me the glyph already !

"I suppose you all want your first glyph now, right?"

She was really testing my patience.

"Very well, follow me."

She stood up and left the classroom. We all rushed to follow, she walked way too fast, fall behind, and you'd lose her.

After a few minutes we found ourselves in front of a familiar room, one we had seen at the beginning of the year.

"The drawing room. Here, you'll learn to create your first glyph."

First? So we can have more than one!

We entered, each of us standing in front of a black or white table.

The woman snapped her fingers, making several items appear on each table,

Pieces of fabric—white on the black tables, black on the white tables. Vials of red liquid that looked like blood. A long ivory-white needle, almost like a sharpened bone, and a small notebook with barely twenty pages.

"That's all you'll need to start. The glyph sketches are in the notebook. You'll use the needle and blood to reproduce them perfectly on the pieces of skin in front of you. My only advice, pick a table with skins that match your pigmentation. The rest is up to you."

I heard a lot of nervous swallowing at those words. Understandably so—this woman had just handed us dozens of pieces of human skin.

I may have misjudged this place. I thought they were the good guys trying to protect the world—was I wrong?

Not that it matters. Either way, I'll just use them to get stronger.

I opened the small notebook. Its brown cover framed thirteen yellowed pages, the same number as the doors in the meditation room. So only thirteen elements existed ?

I turned to the page for blood, eager to begin the exercise I'd been waiting for so long!

Well, it had only been a week since I was here, but it felt like forever.

My determination suddenly faltered when I saw the sketch before me.

A heart—the same one as on the door.

But it wasn't a little heart like kids draw, far from it.

It was a real anatomical heart.

Every artery, every vein was placed exactly where it should be.

I checked the other sketches.

Water, a simple drop with no extra lines.

Fire, a tiny, detail-free flame.

Nature, a leaf without even the usual inner veins.

The more I looked, the more I realized...

I've been scammed again.

But I wouldn't despair, power was now within reach. I just had to copy the drawing perfectly. Someone once told me drawing was like writing...

Damn, I didn't know how to write.

I guess it's never too late to start.

I laid the notebook flat on the table, took the needle in my hand, and dipped it into the vial of blood. The tip soaked up the red liquid like a sponge.

I regulated my breathing like during meditation, steadying my hands as much as I could.

The needle pierced the soft skin like butter—how sharp was this thing?

Minute by minute, stroke by stroke, time passed, and before I knew it, it was night.

But that wouldn't stop me—I could go two days without sleep and even longer without food.

The first attempt was a total failure—the lines were anything but straight, the heart's shape was warped. Nowhere near good enough.

So I continued.

The second was just as bad—no improvement in sight. I'd been at this for thirty hours now. The room was long since empty. The only sounds were my steady breathing and the wet contact of needle and blood.

Now forty hours in. I could work faster, but the results were still imperfect.

I had to take a break during the night to eat and rest—I was becoming ineffective.

Thankfully, every room and facility here was open at all hours. They must've encouraged this kind of obsessive practice—otherwise, everything would have fixed schedules.

At that hour, I crossed no one. I ate faster than ever, slept in the morning, woke at night—like I'd become an owl.

Seconds after waking, I was back in the drawing room.

Seconds before collapse, I went to sleep.

I wasn't human anymore.

I was a machine.

Programmed to do one thing, no matter the cost.

*

I had this gift of entering a state of extreme concentration, ignoring all unnecessary things.

It was the only reason I survived that artificial hell.

It dulled noises I considered irrelevant. Narrowed my vision, I literally saw nothing but my goal, like the rest of the world didn't exist. Everything else was black or blurry.

Only the path ahead was clear.

I didn't notice how many people I bumped into or who spoke to me. I didn't care who they were—I just had to reach my goal. That was all that mattered.

But this strange ability was both a blessing and a curse.

I knew that better than anyone.

It was because of that gift that I became who I am today.

It was the cause of my current state.

The reason for the void in my heart.

The reason for the smile I wore like a timeless mask.

The reason she died.

The reason I killed her.

*

I lifted my eyes from the ceramic table. My senses returned, my eyes regained their focus, my ears their hearing, my taste buds their sense of flavor, my brain its emotions, and my body its pain.

I was drenched in sweat. My stomach hurt, challenged by one meal every two days, just enough to survive. A nearly tangible smell clung to me like a second skin.

I was alone in that small room, a complete mess. Countless pieces of skin covered the floor like a second carpet—all bearing the same glyph,

A heart, so real it seemed to beat despite its stillness.

Damn. I'd entered that state again.

I'm sure I caused problems. What kind? No idea. When? Even less.

But if there's one thing I'm sure of—it's that when that state hits me, I can do literally anything.

A lesson I learned in the cruelest, most painful way.

But anyway, now I had something more important to do.

I could finally use magic! I just had to inscribe the glyph onto my body.

But where?

I didn't even know if the location mattered.

The forearm or thigh would be easiest, but…

It literally represents a heart.

So why not place it over my own?

But first, I had to check what I'd gained during that... absence.

I tried reproducing the sketch on my own, and without a single tremor, without looking at the notebook once, I copied it perfectly.

Every detail was there. Perfect size. Perfect shape.

I'd done it without even thinking. It was automatic, like I'd done these movements my whole life.

But one question remained, could I do it perfectly on my own chest?

I tried placing the skin over my chest, and the result was crystal clear,

I needed a mirror.

And I knew exactly where to find one.