This had gone on far too long.
It was obvious that his tama and body were failing him. He had just recently had a bad incident, and the stress pushed him to a breaking point.
The dangers around the school were becoming too much for anyone to bear. Especially not a child like Ralfio.
He knew that woman was coming for Kal Asterock. She’s already in Mestras, and by the sound of it people have already gotten hurt.
He'd be much better off a "tamaless demon" like that wretched woman suggested. The only thing his tama was good for was isolating him.
He'd sell it without a second thought for the chance to live as a normal kid.
Even if it meant making an unspeakable deal.
He went searching in the crypt for the very thing he saw cause so much damage. The libraries and the other students only spoke of it in hush tones and vague warnings, and he couldn't afford to wait another moment.
It was dark, damp and dreary. It was only lit by candles that seemingly never went out, and the crystals in the walls and fixtures. He could smell the water on the rocks, and the faint scent of smoke and candle flame.
Hushed whispers without a clear source were clouding around little Ralfio, and he couldn’t quite make them out amongst the screams of the damned.
He could feel his own body start to betray him. He felt an impossible force pushing him back. Pleading with him to stop. Perhaps it was his tama pleading for it's life making knots in his stomach, or perhaps it was the souls locked in the crypt urging him to leave at once.
But he heard some more whispers and beckoning voices, urging him down a flight of stairs and to a small room he didn't know existed.
He listened to every single word.
He followed them into the room, and he could hear the faint crackle of salt underneath his feet. He stumbled a little, but regained his footing.
The walls had strange murals, faded away almost unnaturally. Shadows and whispers filled his senses, but he stayed determined.
He saw a large book below the markings, and he opened it carefully.
As he mumbled a quick passage, the voices grew louder and louder, as the ground began to shake.
He looked behind himself in a panic, and saw ghosts surrounding him. He stayed quiet, even as his breathing quickened.
It was then he saw a few little leeches slither away, fading from sight as quickly as they came.
“Wait, w- wait!” He called out, trying to chase after the fleeing leeches.
He could hear the voices of the ghosts. Disjointed. Each one with their own thoughts on the intruder. Thoughts they were all eager to share.
Only one phrase was understandable to the first year, as the spirits closed in on him. One repeated through many of the ghosts, echoed across the dark crypt.
