Spell 17 - The Eye in the Fire

The fire burned quietly as the night went on.

Ren was unable to sleep, so he sat in front of it with his knees pulled close, watching its patterns unfold. Almost as if waiting for it to reveal something to him.

On her side, Kagami hadn't left her place. Only now she was curled up, whether from cold or to retreat deeper into her own thoughts, Ren couldn't tell. But it was comforting knowing she was there, like a silent companion in that strange place.

Her eyes were barely open, but she was awake.

Then, they both heard a loud boom as it rolled through the streets, deep enough that the walls and floors vibrated in response.

Ren jolted suddenly, wide awake, while Kagami raised her head, looking around as if observing through walls. She sniffed the air but couldn't see past where they were.

Another sound came afterwards, like winds tearing each other up. With it came the second tremor. Ren placed his hand on the nearest wall as if that would shed some light on what the hell was going on out there.

He then glanced towards Kagami. Nothing. She was visibly calmer than he was, but still lacked a clear understanding of the events outside.

The third sound was a screech, ragged and inhuman. Something with a mind of its own, no doubt, and something that didn't seem very passive either, by the sound of it. It tore through the night, silencing everything else.

Ren stood abruptly, feeling his pulse rise. He darted toward the window to try and see anything, but the darkness outside was too thick. He couldn't distinguish much except the already familiar shapes of ruined structures and shrine gates.

Behind him, Kagami spoke, calm as ever. "You shouldn't worry about it."

Her voice had that energy that managed to get to him easily. Sometimes it was like black magic, irritating and impossible to ignore, while other times, like now, it managed to calm the uneasiness, at least to a degree.

"Things like that happen here," she explained as she glanced at the window. "This place draws in all kinds of creatures."

She stretched a bit, adjusted her position, and then curled back down.

"They won't come here, though," she added. "These walls are safe tonight, I've made sure of it."

Still uneasy, Ren pulled back from the window and began pacing through the room. He checked the other windows as well, trying to catch any sign of movement outside.

But nothing.

"You're pacing," Kagami remarked, somewhat amused.

Ren shot her a glance but didn't stop. He kept moving, while his eyes scanned every corner of the room, even though it was obvious there wasn't anything that would miraculously change the circumstances they were in.

"Of course I'm pacing," he said, amazed he even had to say it. "I'm in the middle of a dead city filled with stretching creatures and hunting statues. And all I've got is a cat who isn't really much of a helper."

Kagami's ears twitched.

"Not just a cat," she corrected, even more amused by his unsteadiness.

Ren crossed to the far side of the room, away from her, trying to find something, anything, that could distract him. He inspected broken objects, drawers left open and leaning awkwardly, and he analyzed the symbols and calligraphy on the walls. Interesting, but not enough.

Then he stumbled upon a small set of shelves that stood in the shadows, tucked against a wooden wall. He got curious. He brushed some of the dust aside and let his fingers trail across the spines of old books.

The first few books he pulled out were thick. They were written in old dialects, mixing glyphs and traditional calligraphy.

He flipped through a few pages.

He found strange diagrams, humanoid shapes standing inside overlapping circles, surrounded by symbols that reminded him of the very symbols he had recently cast himself.

He frowned, setting one book aside, then reached for another.

Most of the titles centered on mysticism and rites tied to witches. 

Then one book caught his attention. On its spine, Ren saw a single symbol that resembled an eye encircled by twisting lines of flame. The cover was marked by a title that, even as faded as it was, sent a chill down his spine.

The Rite of True Sight.

Ren held the book for a moment, hesitating, although he couldn't quite tell why, then flipped it open.

The pages were well-preserved, filled with dense lines of text in an old dialect. He couldn't read all of it, but he understood enough to get the basic idea. Diagrams appeared on nearly every page, most depicting glowing eyes in eerie detail.

He then mumbled the line as he was reading it.

"True Sight…"

Kagami's head snapped toward him immediately with her eyes wide open, pupils dilated, glowing faintly in the firelight.

"What did you just say?" 

Ren stammered but didn't look away from the book.

"I don't know," he replied. "It's just… some book about fire and eyes."

Kagami went silent but kept watching him, as if reading what he was reading through him.

He turned the page slowly.

There, at the center of the two pages, was a full-page illustration, a lot more detailed than the others. It depicted a large eye that was surrounded by fiery lines, giving them the appearance of both fire and light. Around the eye, a ring of calligraphic symbols was drawn in, but Ren did not have the knowledge necessary to interpret them. 

Below it, a text was written, and Ren read it aloud slowly.

"To see with True Eyes is to unravel one's essence. All beings bear a hidden name, carved into their soul. Through the True Eyes, this name can be revealed, and once revealed, a Pact may be rewritten, broken, or re-bound."

Ren's voice trailed off, but his eyes stayed on the page.

Then he looked up toward where Kagami sat.

"…Didn't you say nothing stands above a Pact?"

Kagami didn't answer immediately. She was perhaps considering how her words would affect the mind of someone like Ren, her new Pact bearer.

"I did," she said. "But like everything in life, there are rare exceptions."

"…Is this related to your eyes?"

"It is," she said at last. "True Sight is what I lost."

Ren glanced back at the illustration, unable to look away from it. He traced one of the lines with his finger, almost without thinking, as if memorizing the shape through his touch.