"Here's the offer," he continued. "I shall give you all this. I shall give you my life's work. But in return, I want two favours, one big and one small. Dog included."

"Sure, let's hear those favours."

"Go to the library. There is a small table at the end, by the wall. On it, you will find a sealed tome. Bring it here. Then go to the laboratory and bring the two boxes."

I nodded and did as he commanded.

The familiar atmosphere of a library made me stop for a second as I glanced at the books: ancient history, some poetry, and, most of all, books on flesh-crafting, golem creation, and undead of all kinds. Some of the titles I had, others I had only heard about from Father. I walked between the bookshelves until finally arriving at the spot described by the Butcher.

There stood a small wooden table with a massive book on it. It was held upright by a special stand. It was covered with black leather, with nine red rings sitting around the symbol of the Eternal Spark. There was no title.

I approached it and immediately sensed the seal. Compared to the one on the pouch, it was like comparing a cheap bike lock to a state-of-the-art security system with a retina scanner and changing passwords.

I stood in awe of the spell for a few seconds before picking it up and carrying it back. Once I walked out from between the shelves, I went to the laboratory and picked up the two boxes. Neither of them was sealed.

With everything in my hands, I went back to the ancient mage and set them down, curious about what would come next.

"Good," he rasped. "Now, open the smaller box."

I hesitated for a brief moment. It would be a dumb way to kill someone after all that, but then again, he was the crafty sort. No harm in a bit of caution.

"Oh, don't be shy now," he said, noticing my brief hesitation. "I can tell you what's inside. A soul crystal—well, of sorts."

I raised my eyes from the box to him.

"And what do you want me to do with a soul crystal? I hope it's not something like putting my own spirit in there," I said, preparing for a fight just in case.

"Don't be dramatic. Inside, you'll find my masterpiece. You'll find… Sally."

After keeping my gaze on his for a few seconds, trying and failing to read anything from it, I slowly opened the box. The moment my eyes fell on what was inside, my hand froze, still holding the lid.

I was not advanced enough to understand what it was I was seeing, but like a simple man gazing in awe at the Mona Lisa, I, too, knew I was looking at a masterpiece. It was a sizable see-through crystal with a soul inside. It was akin to a lotus flower, with the petals opening to the sides and into another dimension, creating the strange construct that was a soul, or rather its core, without the outermost layer giving it shape. It was like looking at the insides of a computer and seeing all the electrons scurrying along the wiring.

It was beautiful.

It took me a while to break eye contact.

"What is this?" I finally asked.

"...You see, once I realised that I still had the power to help Sally, I decided to create my last masterpiece. It might be impossible to remove a spark from a healthy human soul. But the souls of animals are simpler. So with all my power, I performed the first successful soul surgery. I removed her spark and created something akin to a spiritual being. Afterward, I enclosed the soul in the best crystal I had, dormant, ready to be awakened. Without the spark, it should be possible to bind it to another's spark. So here is the deal: I want you to form a familiar contract with the soul. I want you to bind her to your spark so that she may change, grow, and live once again. And in return, I shall give you the way to undo that seal," he said, pointing at the book I brought.

I could feel my facial muscles flex as I looked at the man upon the stone throne. This was an interesting deal, one that someone not knowledgeable might take right away, but I wasn't that stupid. He wasn't telling me everything.

"I'm not a summoner."

"So?"

I rolled my eyes. He was well aware of where I was going with this, but was still playing dumb.

"So I can't bind more than one familiar. Once I form a contract with your dog, I'll have a dog for life. And while I'm sure it'll keep me company through all the lonely study sessions, you can see how that's not really much help when compared to, for example, a dragon—or even a wendigo's spirit."

I thought he would react to that, considering I'd caught him in a lie or at least an understatement, but instead, he smiled.

"Oh, is that what you think? I would've thought you'd have figured it out by now."

I frowned. "Figure wh—" And it came to me.

Surgery or not, no matter what crystal you use, even with the outer layer stripped, should I have such a strong reaction to a dog's spirit? I looked back at the soul, my eyebrows still drawn together.

"Was Sally some sort of cryptid?" I asked.

I expected his smile to widen, but he shook his head.

"No, nothing special, just a dog, a loyal dog. A loyal dog that will need a powerful and ambitious owner. The kind that whines about having a familiar that's 'not as helpful as a dragon.'" He said the last part in a mocking, whiny voice. "So all I had to do was make her more interesting than a dragon."

He pointed at the box I was holding.

"Claws of a gryphon, wits of a sphinx, paws of a Black Shuck, mane of a chimera, and others I… I don't really remember… but most of all, the loyal, beautiful core of my Sally." His face relaxed into a smile as he said the dog's name. "I used the souls I gathered for my abominations to create this masterpiece. What you look at is a creature like no other."

I looked back at the crystal before speaking. "Riiiight, but there is a problem, isn't there? The outer layer is gone. You created a creature that has no shape, no body. This is not the soul of a spiritual being. This is the soul of a physical creature with the spark removed. It still needs to be reflected in physical flesh. It sounds great, but even if I bind myself to it, I wouldn't be able to manifest my own familiar."

This time, I got a reaction. He clearly didn't expect me to know the difference between the workings of a spirit's soul and normal ones. It felt like he was trying to scam me.

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"Full spiritualisation is an uncontrollable net-negative process. It could injure the 'Sally' part." He said it as if it were obvious, almost offended that I had problems with it.

But before I could try and negotiate, his face morphed back to a smile.

"I crafted flesh for many a creature, and all my research is here. You might create something never seen before. You might never manifest your familiar. But that's the price for my knowledge. I thought of all people, you would be up for a challenge."

"The rules of the universe define flesh. You ca—" I choked for a second. 'Fuck, there might be a way,' I realised, a dangerous one. "You ca—" I tried to continue, but this time he interrupted me.

"I think you just got an idea. Aren't the Alhazreds specialists at ignoring the rules of the universe?" He tilted his head, a challenge clear in his eyes. "I offer a fair reward for the risk. A good deal, I say."

"Fuck's sake—had I known there would be negotiations, I would have brought the cats," I grumbled.

A torrent of thoughts ran through my head. 'Should I take the risk? Should I attach to my soul something that might just be a burden? But then again, all the research. There was a possibility of success with what I had in mind, assuming I could get my hands on Mother's Milk… And a companion wouldn't be that bad… I guess…'

"Fine," I said, slightly louder than intended. "Deal!"

"Good. Now bind the soul in front of me. And don't try any tricks. I've forgotten more about souls than you have learned. I'll know if the soul is bound."

I rolled my eyes, but did as he said. I extended myself to the crystal. I could sense the thread enter the structure, as something akin to coldness washed over me, and there—a pulsating emptiness, as if sucking me in. There were many different familiar contracts. You would have to fight with an unwilling one. One could be granted, already bound to you by a patron. And here was this one, like it was waiting for someone, frozen in this cold emptiness, dormant, ready to be alive once again—eager for it.

"Watch out for the sensory cluster," came a shout from the throne.

I stopped and raised my eyes, only to see the Butcher tilting forward in the chair.

"Got it," I answered, and continued, moving deeper to the core.

There I manoeuvred around all the struc—

"Watch out for the inner supporting cortex!" came another shout.

I raised my eyes once again, this time with my eyebrows all the way to my hairline.

"Um, sorry," grumbled the corpse before sitting back up in the stone chair, his eyes still glued to me.

I continued deeper until arriving at the emptiness in the center. Once there, I extended myself to it. It was like touching a nerve. A shock went through me, and I could feel something, another part of me, awakening, although still half-dormant without the flesh. I could swear I saw a vision of a tail wagging before it went away just as quickly.

"Okay, done," I said, lifting my eyes.

The Butcher fell back onto the throne. His face was filled with relief. He then looked at the larger container with a small amount of pride, but the moment his eyes met the white sheet, that pride faded, his face twisting into a look of pain. I didn't break him out of his thoughts, waiting patiently until he looked back at me.

"So," I started once I had his attention. "The seal's password, as we agreed."

"Yes, of course, but before that—one more thing."

My facial muscles flexed slightly. "A deal is a deal."

"And I'll honor it—just one more… I would like you to kill for me."

"I'm all ears."

He pointed to the containers. "Remove the sheets."

I approached and stretched out my hand to the veil covering them, half expecting another shout to stop me. As I quickly glanced behind me, I saw the Butcher still sitting there, his hands gripping the throne so firmly I half expected the stone to crack.

Bringing my gaze back to the material, I finally pulled on it.

The sheet slipped off the container, revealing a large tube made of see-through glass. It was larger than me and filled with a bluish-green liquid, in which a woman was suspended. She looked dead, but I could sense life from her. It didn't take much to figure out who she was. The burn marks covering half her body were more than enough.

"I told you I was selfish," came a low voice from behind me. "In the end, I suspended her in a soul-numbing solution. But I couldn't end it, couldn't bring myself to push the dagger into her heart," he said, his voice on the verge of breaking. "I sat here, a thousand years, looking at her… regretting..."

I nodded, said nothing, and approached the second container, removing the covering.

There I saw something that almost made my skin crawl. In it was an abomination, but not the kind that would be made to kill others. It wasn't a mutant armored in claws and fangs—no, it was something else. The closest description I could find would be a body made to suffer.

It was also suspended in a fluid, but this one was completely see-through. The flesh looked like a skinned human, then slightly burned all over to cauterize the wounds. There were no eyes or ears on the fleshy creature, but most of all, there was no mouth. It wasn't sewn shut. It was entirely gone. And much like with his wife, I could sense a spark from it.

"The man who set my house ablaze," he said, the cruelty he was once capable of back in the cold tone.

"Why go through all that trouble? What's the point of keeping the spark?"

"You said it yourself, the spark lets us change. Without it, there is no point in suffering." He smiled a cruel, toothy smile. "Have you ever tried to torture a ghost or a demon? It's doable. They can feel pain, so you could get answers that way. You can blackmail them, make them change their behavior, make them afraid. But you can't change THEM. No matter the amount of pain you inflict, you won't make a fire demon incapable of casting flame magic. Without the spark, it will follow the core of its programming." He pointed at the thing in the container. "And I wanted him to change. Like suffering made me an entirely different person, I needed him to change into a shell of a human with each jolt of pain. But… I think it's time for me to let go. I'm going to die now… I want to die at least close to a man she would want me to be."

I gazed at the mutilated flesh once again and then turned back to him.

"You want me to kill him, and then your wife, and you."

"You don't have to kill me. I'll get up from that throne myself."

I did as he asked. Jumping up to grab the top of the container, I pulled out the body and threw it out. It squirmed for a while before going still, the spark no longer held by the seal, leaving with the soul.

"The seal on the book. Just touch it and say SillySally," he said, keeping his gaze on his wife.

I smiled slightly at the password before approaching the glass tube.

"Are you ready? Or would you like more time?"

"No. I—I'm ready," he choked before shaking his head. "That's a lie. You shouldn't die a liar. I'm not ready, but now's as good as it'll ever be. Just open that one last box before you do it," he said, pointing at the last container from the laboratory standing next to the one where Sally's soul was.

I opened it. As the lid rose, I expected to see a new magical artefact or maybe a crystal, but what appeared surprised me. Inside was a normal-looking music box. I frowned and picked it up. It had a sizable metal mechanism on top, with a spring next to it and a key to wind it up. I then noticed an engraving next to the key.

'Dear Alistar, all that talk about music of the soul, and you still don't know how to dance to it. At least learn to waltz. Love, Camila.'

"Could you…?" he rasped.

I turned the key a few times until it wouldn't go any further, then let it play. To my surprise, I vaguely recognized the music. It was similar to Waltz No. 2 by Dmitri Shostakovich. The composer must have been a descendant of bards.

I let it play and looked to Alistar. He straightened up and nodded. I climbed up and pulled out the body, but instead of throwing it to the ground like the previous one, I laid it gently on the stone floor.

Glancing at the Butcher, I saw that he hesitated. An indescribable mix of emotions was visible on his thin face, but then, before I could say anything, he lifted himself off the throne and, after taking a step forward, collapsed to the floor.

Silence descended on the tomb, broken only by the music box. I walked back a few steps, looking at the scene—or lack thereof. Although my senses were telling me something was happening, unwilling souls wouldn't dissipate that quickly.

Finally, curiosity taking over, I lightly pushed my own spirit out of my body to take a look, immediately repossessing my flesh afterwards. I only got a brief glance, but I was sure I saw two spirits in a slow waltz, levitating over the ground as they dissipated.

I would be back for the tomb's contents, but for now, I left the dead to their dance. As I crossed the stone threshold, I could feel something touch my hand, something wet and warm like an animal's snout—but looking down, there was nothing.

How strange.

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