"Huh, Doomweaver?" I was taken aback when I heard this name. As if sensing my confusion, their illusory voice sounded again.
"That's the Order 9 title. Doomweaver will become your current occupation."
"Occupation?" I felt even more confused the more they spoke.
"Yes. One's occupation with this Pathway is defined by the title of the potion. In order to advance to Order 8, you'll have to become a Doomweaver."
I fell silent for a few seconds, gazing at the mirror. Suddenly, a burning and searing pain emerged in between my brows. I let out a low groan of pain as I clutched my forehead. This time, the Blood-Moon Charm didn't remove the effects. I watched with half-lidded eyes as an illusory red circle formed on my forehead, gradually becoming less blurry.
An unfathomable crimson symbol was painlessly etched into my skin, the thin rivets where the marking was bestowed were glowing with an eerie crimson liquid. Seeing this, my eyes widened and I quickly stepped away from the mirror.
"What is that?..."
"The necessary sigil." They replied, still not revealing themselves.
"Huh?" I asked, my thoughts almost entering a gaudy, dreamlike daze. The entirety of my vision seemed fixated on the sigil, like my vision was akin to a camera being zoomed in.
"Your body isn't used to the effects of consumption, so the potions characteristics and powers habitually contract into one point—your forehead."
"Will this have any...side effects?" I asked, my voice turning slightly hoarse.
"Yes. But that's information I can reveal tomorrow. In order to slightly digest and enable your body to become used to the potion, you must rest."
"Rest...sounds simple enough..." I rubbed my eyes tiredly as I let out a small yawn.
I opened the bathroom door and stepped out, quickly surveying the apartment room. The blinds were closed, allowing the crimson moonlight to barely pass through the thick linen curtains. Shinso was still asleep in his bed, snoring quietly. The burning of the sigil on my forehead was a quiet constant, almost like a dull pain at this point rather than something that resembled burning.
I slipped off my slippers and quietly walked over to my bed, slipping under the thick blankets. My body struggled to sink into the mattress, which was somewhat stiff.
...
After twenty minutes of lying in bed, I failed to fall asleep, I was staring at the ceiling the entire time with half-lidded eyes. Outside, I could still hear the sound of carriage wheels against the cobblestone streets and the distant yet quiet clamor of the townspeople. The pain in my forehead had now decreased to a tolerable extent, almost to the point where I forgot it was there.
I let out a low sigh as I swung my legs over the bed, putting on some slippers and stepping towards the window. I slowly opened the curtains and pushed open the glass doors leading to the balcony. The moment I did so, I felt the cold breeze brush against my skin, along with a small flurry of snowflakes.
Below me, I could see a small number of townspeople, all wandering the streets and talking. Down the narrow street, I could smell the faint and tangy smell of alcohol, and most of the lights of the numerous shops and bars were on, allowing yellow, orange, and white lights to flood onto the streets.
In the dim lighting, I saw a drunkard stumble out of one of the bars, falling into the street and narrowly avoiding a carriage which was jeered in the opposite direction to avoid them. After a quick, almost violent interaction, the drunkard ended up vomiting in the streets. They then disappeared into an alleyway, most likely to relieve themselves.
The cold wind continued to blow onto me, ruffling my brown hair and causing my glasses to slightly fall ajar. A light flurry of snow continued to slowly descend from the sky, which was filled with clouds that slightly obscured the crimson moon. The entirety of the city gradually fell silent the longer I stood outside for.
Even if I was outside for a prolonged amount of time, the cold winds had no effect on me. Within my pocket, the Blood-Moon Charm continued to buzz slightly, absorbing all the negative effects. It really was quite handy.
"Tomorrow morning, head back to the market and find the stall where you received the items to attain further instruction." The illusory voice sounded in my ears again, jostling me from my daze. After taking a moment to collect myself, I replied with an alright. I took a few moments to look back at the room,my gaze fixated on Shinso's sleeping form.
After closing the glass door and drawing the curtains, I made my way back to my bed and slumped back down, rolling onto my back and pressing my face into the now cold pillow.
...
Within my dream, I heard a quiet, faint whimper. My eyes were glued to a worn-out, slightly damp notebook on the floor of the janitor's closet. Outside, I could hear someone pounding on the door accompanied by a teenage voice that demanded immediate entry. The lights inside were only pieced by the flashlight of my slightly broken phone, and my navy and white uniform was drenched to the bone.
Confusion coursed through my veins as my eyes darted around the closet, looking for something to form a makeshift barricade to seal the door shut. I weakly lunged towards a broom and locked it behind the door handle, disabling any form of movement. Upon realizing that their efforts had been restricted, the voice continued to hammer me with insults.
I stood on the sidelines, confused and slightly disoriented by this scene, and the lack of light. The boy in the janitor's closet had a mop of greasy, mottled brown hair and sunken eyes. He stood at my exact height. His boney, almost starved arms which were almost emaciated were scribbling down furiously inside of a stained blue notebook. What he was writing, it was too dark to tell, and at the rate he was writing I couldn't decipher much of it anyways.
I could feel the urgency as if it were a physical barrier in the air, the chewed pencil he was using to write was neatly sharpened, but the eraser on the back of it was bitten off by what looked like teeth.
"And...then...he." I could hear his faint voice detailing what he was writing to himself, the pace of his hand never diminishing, reaching a feverish crescendo. Outside, the handle continued rattling, accompanied by more angry shouts and slurs. The atmosphere seemed to darken as the boy finished scribbling down in the notebook.
Just then, the rattling stopped. Outside, I heard a clatter, followed by something heavy hitting the ground. The entire place seemed to fall silent as the boy froze in his spot, his eyes widening slightly. He slowly closed the notebook and stuffed it back in his backpack, before turning back towards the closet door with trembling hands.
He tossed the broom aside, the wooden object falling to the floor with a clank. After taking a few moments to run a hand through his greasy brown hair and adjusting his glasses, he stepped out of the janitor's closet and froze when he saw the pale body on the floor. The boy's neck crawled with ink-black veins, and his skin had turned a stone-gray color.
The boy stepped back, his eyes widened with terror as his mouth fell agape. Outside, rain poured from the now dark gray sky, accompanied by thunder that roared in the distance. His trembling hands slowly coiled around the sleeve of the boy's jean-jacket, slowly pulling him down the hallway and out the back of the school.
He didn't seem to mind the onslaught of ice-cold downpour against his skin, instead focusing profusely on the task at hand. He continued to drag the lifeless body of the boy, before using a herculean effort to hurl the limb corpse upwards, tossing it in the dumpster with a dull, monotonous clank.
The brown-haired boy quickly moved trash bags, arranging them in an intricate yet worker-like precision so they'd cover any evidence of his action. Once the mountain of black trash bags covered any residue of the boy's dull appearance, he took a step back as if to silently admire his handiwork. His dull, dark-rimmed eyes that seemed to resemble a racoon were fixed on the dumpster, and he frowned.
"Dang it...dang it...dang it..." He repeated under his breath, his hands continuing to tremble and shake as they clenched by his sides.
I watched the entire scene from inside the building, silently observing the entire thing unfold. The rain continued to pour from above, soaking the uniformed boy to the bone. Following any additional actions, he darted back into the school and shut the door behind him.
He fell completely silent, before collapsing against the metal door in a fit of tired, almost pain-stricken sobs. The boy's white shirt had been turned gray from the accumulated moisture, and his navy blue tie had been loosened, sitting ajar in his neck behind his collar. He took a moment to survey the surroundings of the dark hallway, before removing his navy blue blazer and resting it over his head, before falling completely limp.
His light breaths were the only sound that pierced the air, aside from the muffled rain and thunder and rolled like a lion.
...
Above me, the clouds overlooking the kingdom continued to let down a flurry of snow upon the cobblestone streets. This morning I had only eaten some oatmeal the Parterre de Fleurs had supplied as a new, customary dish. Shinso and Ayumi were still asleep when I had departed, along with Aizawa, Olivia, and Mr. Ryujin.
Overall, I was the only one aside from the others from Aaron's group that was awake at this time. The streets of the kingdom were overall somewhat desolate, only the distant sound of a horse walking down the street, accompanied by the early morning tea that a restaurant had supplied. Inside the restaurant, patrons clad in a variety of outfits were all enjoying their steaming hot beverages.
The market that we had been to yesterday was loosely populated, with numerous patrons and vendors only beginning to sell their products. Just then, I heard a voice call out to me.
"Hey, you." It was an older man with yellow eyes, his left one was washed over with white. In his left hand was a wooden stick, most likely one that assisted him with maneuvering around.
I turned towards the man, nodding my head slowly. Even if I had grown somewhat used to interaction despite my timid state, the suddenness of the conversation made my stomach swirl a little. "Yes?"
The man smiled as he placed a small barrel on the counter. He quickly grabbed a small drinking glass and filled it with a brownish, somewhat glossy liquid. After a few moments he turned towards me.
"Wanna try?"
I stared at the liquid for a few moments, my heartbeat accelerating a tiny amount. "What's in it?"
"Must a pint of rum, ginger, and some pig urine."
"P-pig urine?" I was taken aback, my face turning slightly green as I took a disgusted step back. The man with the blind eye laughed, casting a torrent of spit onto the wooden booth.
"Don't worry, not enough to make you vomit." He held up the glass of urine-filled water.
"How much then?..." I continued to gaze at the bottle, my nauseous effects already having been removed by the Blood-Moon Charm.
"Only a few drops, because that's what they wanna offer."
He looked at the barrel, his bulky hands wrapping around the rounded surface and shaking it violently. "Every once in a while you must spill it around so it doesn't get all stale."
He put it back down, wiping some sweat from his brow. "It's a lot easier since they haven't been peein' much."
The man looked back at me, revealing a grin that showcased his yellow teeth. "I wouldn't mind some harvesting help if that's what you're up for!"
"N-no thanks, sir...I won't have any drinks either."
"Well then, have a good day. Blood Moon's in a few days!"
"Blood moon?" I looked towards the man, raising an eyebrow.
"Once every two weeks the blood moon becomes full, casting a radiant red light on us all. We like to celebrate it around here, drinking until we puke and inhaling our near lil' powders until someone gets trampled to death!"
"That's...awfully dangerous." I visualized what a night like that would appear like, and it didn't sound like a good time.
"What's more dangerous is what happens to youngins' like you who go wanderin' around on a night like that." He crossed his arms over his chest, giving me a knowing smile.
"I bet your parents told you all about the legends and stuff."
I felt my curiosity peak. "I...never heard these legends."
"Well, kid. Sit down, get a drink, and I'll let you know bout' everything."
The illusory voice of the figure boomed in my mind, much louder than usual. "Ignore him."
"Ok, ok...fine." I felt a wave of disappointment as I declined the offer, stepping away from his booth.
"Maybe nother' time?"
"Yeah, later." I gave the man a reluctant smile.
After another five minutes I located the tent nestled in the alleyway, the same malevolent crimson light pouring out like a flood. It just came to me how nobody realized of its existence considering its unusual ability to stand out.
"I was...told to see you." I peeled back the curtain and looked inside. The hooded figure put on their rounded glasses and smiled at me, the lower half of their dark face now visible.
"Rather peculiar, but the unusual is something I fancy."
They clasped their wrinkled hands over each other and leaned back in their wooden chair. "How may I be of assistance?"