The new strength was a fact. It sat in my bones, in the way the world revealed its hidden silver veins to my eyes. But a fact without context is a weapon without a target. I needed the context of this world, and Albert held all the keys.
I stood in his study at dawn. He didn't look up from his ledger.
Albert: You smell of Gloom-hare musk, bog fen, and something else. Something sharp, like ozone and static. Core residue. You've been hunting. And you've been consuming what you kill.
His voice was flat, stating facts. He closed the ledger and finally looked at me. There was no accusation in his eyes. Only a deep, patient calculation.
I didn't bother to lie. The evidence was on me, in me.
Leon: How do you know?
A faint, almost imperceptible shimmer of air coalesced in the corner of the room. The elven assistant, Lyr, faded into view. Her expression was neutral, but her silver eyes held a sharp, analytical light.
Lyr: My skill is [Echo-Sight]. I can see the lingering traces of significant actions—violence, magic, consumption. The residue around you is… unique. It doesn't fade like normal absorption. It clings, like a stain on reality itself.
She faded back into transparency, a living surveillance system.
Albert gestured to the now-empty space.
Albert: Knowledge is my trade, Leon. I observe. I learn. Your existence is the most curious thing I have observed in decades. You are not a broken summon. You are something else. A new variable.
He leaned forward, his hands steepled.
Albert: You want power. You are taking it, in the only way you can. I respect that. But you are stumbling in the dark. You could consume a core that unravels your soul. You could draw the attention of things that hunt anomalies. You need a guide.
He paused, letting the truth of it sink in.
Albert: I have the knowledge you lack. Maps. Bestiaries. Histories of this world and whispers of others. The true nature of the Creator's Trials. I can tell you what to hunt, and more importantly, what not to touch. I can help you understand what you are becoming.
Leon: And in return?
Albert: In return, you allow me to observe. You share what you learn from the consumption. The process. The changes. The data. Your unique path to power, for my understanding of it. A partnership. Power for you. Knowledge for me.
It was the first honest offer I'd received. No pity. No suspicion. A simple, cold transaction between two people who had something the other needed. He wasn't offering to fix me. He was offering to help me weaponize my condition.
Leon: Why help me at all? I'm an anomaly. A risk.
Albert: Because anomalies break patterns. And after three hundred years of the same patterns in this world, of watching generations rise and fall against the same walls… I find myself deeply interested in what happens when a crack appears in the foundation.
A hint of something hungry, something beyond scholarship, flashed in his eyes. He was a man who had read every book in the library and now wanted to see the library burn, just to read the ashes.
Albert: Do we have an arrangement?
I looked from his keen, waiting face to the space where Lyr had vanished. I was already exposed. I was already hunted in my own way. This wasn't a trap. It was an alliance with the warden.
Leon: We do.
Albert: Good.
He pulled a parchment from a drawer. It showed a creature of sleek muscle and living flame—an Ember-lynx.
Albert: Then let us begin with data. Hunt this. Its core is pure fire essence. I want a full account of the consumption. Every sensation. Every change. Report back before dusk.
I took the parchment. The deal was struck.
Power for me.
Knowledge for him.
And for the first time, a path forward that didn't feel like blindly falling through the dark.