#ontodeath

All the books they could find regarding the subject were relocated to these rooms, set upon bookshelves that looked, in Moritura's opinion, far too empty.  It was almost too dark to read them, even, in the room, because in their care they had drawn thick curtains over the windows.  All guest chambers in the castle overlooked the smaller of the two courtyards, and the flowers were still attended to daily by maids and gardeners. Lyon didn't want them to peek inside and see what was going on.

The real wonderment in the room was elsewhere, naturally, held inside runes and sigils carved in various places.  For instance, the door frame to the hallway had carefully scratched runes, carved by the Prince himself.  He said it would prevent those who didn't like dark magic from growing curious about this room.  In Moritura's excitement she had never noticed if it worked, but if that was Lyon's intent in carving them (she could feel that, at least) then it definitely worked as he said.

Her favorite thing about the laboratory was hidden under a thick tarp.  Even though it was out of sight, the circle beneath it gave off waves of an uneasy feeling.  Each researcher in the room confessed feeling like they were being watched, even if left alone in the room, and to uncover the circle was to grant any who looked at it a visceral feeling of sickness.  It was how they performed most of their experiments.  Even though it made Moritura uncomfortable, she knew it to be a great step forward in their field, and each time she was forced to stare at its terribleness, she grew excited for the results they might see next.

Lyon wouldn't let her participate directly in what he called their revolutionary experiments, but Mori never felt as though he was babying her.  He still explained each concept and experiment, whether or not she'd be allowed to participate, and asked if she had any suggestions or ideas regarding the theory.

It was the highest of compliments, coming from him.  No matter how many times he might have suggested otherwise, it was common knowledge in their little circle that Lyon was the most gifted practitioner of dark magic.  He would often deflect compliments or suggest another mage be put on a pedestal, but at the end of the day he spun curses as easily as he drew breath, and it was he alone who seemed the least perturbed by some of the horrors they commit in the name of science.

Mori even swore that she could feel the darkness on him when he was nearby, and she was in the process of testing this hypothesis every interaction with him.  Another score against him – he sat down in front of her at the table, and she could feel it, so she raised her head to meet his gaze.

She had been staring, furtive and pointless, at a blank page in a blank book.

“Is that the empty tome I gave you?” the prince asked.  He smiled sweetly, shifting to place down a stack of parchments and careful not to spill his cup of tea over it.

“Yeah...” Mori replied.  He probably expected her to have filled it by now, but she hadn't so much as touched it in that regard yet.

“Don't know where to start?”  He took the words from her mouth with a small giggle, hidden demurely behind one hand.

“That's exactly it!” she said, maybe too enthusiastically.  She tried to settle in her chair.  “I mean...  This is a lot of blank canvas, and I've never written a tome before.”

As far as she knew, neither had any other researcher here, except for Lyon, probably, who was in all likelihood a master at it without even trying.

“It seems like a lot to start with, I know,” he replied.  “But you can definitely do it.  You just need to figure out what you want it to become, first.”

Mori definitely didn't have that.

“Have you been brainstorming?”

She looked back down to the blank pages opened before her, as she had several times before.  She wanted to end with a spell that was uniquely hers, but she also wanted one she could be proud of, one that Lyon would be proud of, too.  Those constraints didn't exactly narrow down her options, though.

“I've been trying,” she answered.  “But there's so many ideas...”

“I know the feeling,” Lyon responded.  He kept a serene smile on his face as he shuffled through the papers he'd put on the table.  “I've been writing one of my own, but the methodology is so different to write novelty spells opposed to combat...”

Every word out of Lyon's mouth was inspired, it seemed.  Each one gave another glimpse at how brilliant he really was.

“What do you mean novelty?”

Lyon prefaced his answer with a small giggle.  “I have no interest in a tome meant simply for hurting some one – as most tomes are made.  I see no reason why you can't make a tome meant for healing.  We have a methodology for Nosferatu right?  So...  I've been working on something like that.”

“Can I see it?”  Mori didn't mean to ask, assuming the answer would be a flat 'no', but it tumbled out before she could stop it.

Lyon blushed, the gentle smile he usually held faded, and he averted his gaze. “I-I suppose that wouldn't be an issue...  Actually...”

He didn't finish his thought before standing and directing her to stay seated, that he would be right back.  It felt entirely too long before he returned – Moritura's whole body was wired with excitement at the thought she'd get to see one of his most personal ventures.  

When he returned, he placed the book beside her, and quietly moved a second chair to sit next to her, so that they would both be able to look at it at the same time.

The front of the tome was gorgeous, or so Mori thought, but it seemed fitting that such an amazing scientist and the prince himself would have such a pretty tome.  She reached to touch it, but he opened it to the first pages before she had the chance.

“I'm a bit stuck myself, you see,” he explained, carefully turning to the next page.  “And since very few of the other researchers even agree with me that we can rewrite tomes and create new sigils at our own necessity, I don't expect much help from the others.”

“Oh...”  It was hard to believe that some one as brilliant as Lyon might be stuck, too, but at the same time oddly comforting.  Certainly this meant he was far from disappointed that she hadn't even begun to write her own tome...

“Anyway,” he continued hastily.  “Go ahead and read it.  I'm afraid it will probably be above your skill level, but all spells have the same roots, so it isn't inconceivable you'd understand some of it anyway.”

Moritura tried. She didn't need more of an invitation.  Unfortunately, Lyon was correct in his assumption.  Some of the words and even letters they were written in were completely foreign to her eyes, and though she tried to stumble through mouthing the sentences quietly to herself, it was much more difficult than she thought.

It didn't dismay her, though.  Instead, she found herself grinning at the prince's brilliance, and that she was able to bear witness to it.  Even...

Halfway through another difficult paragraph she stopped, stared, and pouted. “That's...”

She pointed, very deliberately, at a single word.  Lyon's handwriting was crisp and clear, easily legible, and yet he had either smudged a rune here, or...  “I think this is mispelt.”

“What?”

Lyon hurriedly pushed into her, rather awkwardly, in order to peer over her shoulder at the word she was pointing at.  Mori turned to look at his face. He pouted, too.

“You're... right,” he said.  There was disappointment in his voice.  “I... I mispelt that.”

His fingers pushed hers out of the way gently, tracing his work again.  He murmured something that Moritura couldn't make out before shifting, pulling away from her, and completely turning away entirely.

“Uhm...  When you're finished with this, please give it back.  I've got some things I should edit in it and...”

He faced her again.  “Well, I'm a little embarrassed, but....  I should thank you for your insight, I didn't realize...”

Mori shut the book gently and pushed it onto the table.  Almost instantly did Lyon take it back from her.  

“Can a spelling mistake really change so much?” she asked.

Lyon's face was pink now.  He clutched his tome to his chest and offered an obviously forced smile to her.  “Yes, well...  That, and I should make sure I haven't mispelt anything else...  It...  Could really change the meaning or intent behind my actions...  In ways that I would have no knowledge of...”

“You still wrote a tome, Prince Lyon.  That's so cool!”

“I'm writing a tome,” he corrected, dismissively.  “It's still, clearly, a work in progress.”

They stood at the same time.  She was wired with excitement and energy and he merely pressed his tome to his chest.  She smiled because she thought it was funny.

“I know it's going to be amazing, Your Highness!  I just hope I can make something you think is cool too!!”

He chuckled weakly.  “Yes, Mori, I'm sure I will...  Did, uhm...  I just... You...”

Mori's head canted to one side.  “It's just a spelling mistake.  It's really hard to remember all the runes, plenty of people mess up just reading them.”  Mori didn't, though, and Lyon most certainly didn't.  “I need to calm down before I start writing, I'm sure I'll have plenty!”

“Right,” Lyon replied, clipping the word off sharply with his teeth.  “I, uhm...  You'll do wonderful, Mori.  I know it.”

“Do you really think so?”

“Absolutely.”

She sprung forward then, suddenly, pulling Lyon into a tight, friendly hug.  The prince froze.  She could feel him stiffen in her arms, but he almost instantly relaxed.  She pulled away before he could wrest his arm from in between them and offer a hug back.

“Sorry!”

“I-it's fine. Uhm...  I do think I'll step out to the courtyard...  I'll be there if you... need me.”

“You're leaving?”  Mori looked over to the papers and ink Lyon had been ready to deal with before.  “What about..?”

Lyon smiled unconvincingly.  “It'll be here for me when I return.  Erm...  Have a nice day, okay?”