Chương 501: B8—Chapter 8: Turns Out Al Knows Stuff

Late in the evening, after the last of the kids left to go to sleep, I went looking for Mahya and Al. I found them in the room I had fixed earlier, sitting on the couch with mugs of coffee in their hands, both of them looking kind of rumpled.

"Have you been here since yesterday?" I asked. Al nodded without saying a word, lifting his mug to take a sip.

"Yes," Mahya said, then leaned back and rubbed at her eyes.

"Ready to leave, or do you want to keep working?" She pushed herself up from the couch, set her cup down, and stretched, arms over her head.

"Definitely leave. I need to sleep." A wide yawn followed, driving the point home.

"I fixed a tower further into the compound." I gestured toward the inner buildings.

"It's got two upper floors with actual rooms. You can move there and even use it as a living space." Al inclined his head.

"You may also open your house there." I pointed at him.

"That too."

"And make us dinner," Mahya added. Later, once we were seated and eating, I laid out my idea about raising Healers and the instructions I'd given Titi.

"Are you sure it's a good idea?" Mahya asked after a moment.

"Healers in this world charge gold for a simple visit and more gold for everything on top. With that much money on the table, how do you ensure they won't leave to make money instead of treating the kids?" I lifted one shoulder.

"That's something Titi will have to figure out."

"A magically binding contract would solve that," Al said.

"A voluntary one, of course. It simply ensures both parties keep the agreement they freely accepted." I looked at him.

"What's that?"

"Good idea," Mahya said, nodding slowly. Then her brow furrowed.

"But the problem is that none of us knows how to make one."

"I do," Al said. Mahya froze mid-motion and turned to stare at him.

"What do you mean, you know?"

"That is a skill every monarch must possess," Al replied evenly.

"My father ensured I learned it when I was young."

"What's that?" I asked again, but they still ignored me. Mahya dragged a hand down her face and fixed Al with a hard look.

"Then why didn't you say anything before?"

"There was no reason to," Al said calmly. She stared at him for a long second, then rubbed her face again. I slapped the table.

"Will one of you answer me already? What the hell is a magically binding contract? I get the idea from the words, but how do you make one? How does it work? What?" Al calmly set his utensils aside.

"I will show you." He reached into his storage and laid several items on the table: a sheet of parchment, a strange writing implement that looked like a bone stylus with runes, sharpened to a fine point, and a small bottle filled with red liquid. I leaned closer, eyeing the bottle.

"Is that blood?" He frowned at it, then at me.

"Of course not. It is magical ink." I leaned back and spread my hands.

"You're writing with a bone. Blood sounded like a logical assumption." Al shot me a sharp look and shook his head, the motion slow and distinctly disappointed. I let the matter drop. He worked for over an hour, drawing a complex magical circle. Or, more accurately, an eight-pointed magical star formed from intersecting lines and curves that wove together into a dense web of paths and junctions, linking every part of the construct. A long string of runes followed the geometry.

I recognized most of them, though while he worked, I learned seven new ones and developed a mild headache from trying to follow how they all interacted. The entire design relied on repetition and layering. Spirit runes appeared again and again along the inner paths, each one directly connected to runes of binding. Those, in turn, were anchored by runes of promise, commitment, and duty, arranged so that no binding stood alone without an explicit obligation attached to it.

At the eight points of the star, the rune sets changed. Each point contained runes associated with consequence, repercussion, aftereffect, and punishment. None of the sets were identical, but all of them fed back toward the central spirit runes through uninterrupted lines, ensuring the effects applied directly to the bound target rather than to some external object or condition. Between several of the connecting lines, he deliberately left empty spaces.

The lines curved around them without breaking the structure, making it obvious the gaps were intentional. Judging by the surrounding runes, those spaces would be filled in later, defining the exact repercussions tied to each clause of the contract. Between the points of the star, he drew runes of concealment and invisibility, connecting them to one another and to the star itself. At first, it looked odd since the runes weren't actually part of the star.

But as I traced the lines and the runes they connected to, it finally clicked. Once the remaining gaps were filled and the circle was complete, the entire magical construct would become invisible. The runes themselves would remain active, but no longer visible. That way, the contract itself could be written on what appeared to be an ordinary sheet of paper, while an invisible magical framework beneath the ink enforced it.

Once he finished, I looked from him to the nearly completed circle and back again, then slowly shook my head.

"That's the most impressive magic circle I've ever seen. Why the hell do you hate rune work so much if you can create that? And why didn't you ever teach me this amazing circle?" If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. Al looked away. After a brief pause, he let out a quiet sigh.

"Lis knows I can create such contracts, and he asked me not to teach you." I turned back to the circle, then to him again.

"So why show it now?"

"That is part of the agreement. I was permitted to demonstrate it if the need arose." Mahya burst out laughing.

"What?" I asked. She waved a hand, still grinning.

"Lis's plan didn't work. He probably wanted you to try making one yourself and only have Al show it to you if you failed." I chuckled and nodded. Al, on the other hand, looked horrified.

"Relax," I said, patting his hand.

"I won't breathe a word of this to Lis." Al visibly relaxed, his shoulders sagging with relief. I chuckled again and shook my head. That conniving bastard. He keeps pushing me to develop on my own, even hundreds or thousands of worlds away. Al created another contract, and this time I watched more carefully, tracking not only the runes themselves but the order in which he built the circle. Each line came before the next for a reason, and missing even one step made the entire structure harder to follow.

By the time he reached for a fresh parchment to start a third, I leaned forward and tapped the table lightly.

"Do you have another bone thingy?" He handed me a bone stylus, and I started making one of my own. It turned out to be far more complicated than it looked while watching him. I managed most of the structure on my own, but every so often I had to stop and glance over at his work to see how he connected the different parts. The real problem with this specific magic star was that he didn't draw the star first and then fill it in.

The entire shape emerged from the runes themselves, linked by carefully placed connecting lines. Even more restrictive, he only lifted the stylus to take in more ink at very specific points in the pattern. I hadn't paid enough attention to that detail during the first two demonstrations. Once I started drawing, it became immediately obvious why it mattered. I couldn't lift the stylus wherever I wanted. Doing so in the wrong place broke the flow of the structure, forcing me to trace back the surrounding runes.

There were only a handful of points where the line could safely end and resume, and missing one of them meant starting that section over. I slowed down after that, watching his hand more closely and matching the pauses as carefully as the strokes themselves. The order and continuity mattered just as much as the shapes. We each made another circle and finished sometime around the middle of the night, ending up with a total of six magical contracts.

By then, Mahya and Rue had gone to sleep, leaving the two of us alone with our squiggles. Al stacked the last contract neatly on top of the others, aligning the edges with precision, then looked at me.

"What do you wish the consequences to be?" I leaned back in my chair and rubbed my face.

"I'm not sure. Maybe losing the Healer class? Or is that too steep?" He considered it in silence for a moment.

"No. It is acceptable. You grant them the class under certain conditions. If they follow those conditions, they retain the class. If they do not, they lose it. Those are the most appropriate consequences."

"How do we draw that into the contract?" Al took one of the unfinished circles and pulled it closer. In each of the empty gaps, he carefully drew the rune for Healer, then placed the runes for erasure and loss on either side of it. He connected them, drawing intersecting lines that crossed directly over the Healer rune, forming a clear X. For some reason, just looking at it made me shudder. I could feel the circle's ability to do exactly what it promised: cross out the Healer class entirely.

I took a deep breath, forced down the unsettling feeling in my gut, and got to work copying the same structure onto the remaining contracts. Once all of them were complete, Al placed a hand over the activation rune and channeled mana into it. The magic circle flared briefly, then vanished. I did the same with mine without even looking at him. By that point, the circle made it clear what needed to be done. Even so, something unexpected remained. At the top and bottom of the page, several runes stayed visible.

The runes for name, identity, and personality remained at the top and along the bottom right, while at the bottom left, the runes for guardian, executor, and enforcer were still present.

"What's that?" I asked. Al picked up the stylus and wrote, "I, _________" directly above the rune at the top of the contract. Beneath the lower runes, he added two lines: "Signature__" and "Executor______." I didn't need any further explanation. One line was for the name of the person signing. One for their signature. The last for the one responsible for enforcing the contract.

"Do you wish to be the executor of the contract?" Al asked. I shook my head.

"No. Not really. I think it should be Titi."

"That would be appropriate." He reached for the ink bottle and pushed it across the table toward me.

"You should fill out the clauses of the contract before anyone signs it. I recommend they sign with this ink. It is not mandatory, but I recommend it nonetheless." I nodded and drew the bottle closer.

"Thanks." He inclined his head, gathered his things with the same careful order he always used, and went to sleep, leaving me alone with the stack of contracts. I took out my notebook and sat there, staring at the blank spaces on the parchment. Now I had to figure out what to put in the contract. I didn't want it to sound overly legal, like so many of the contracts I'd signed on Earth, but I did want to borrow the parts that made sense.

The trick was deciding which clauses to keep and how to write them in plain language instead of legalese. Not that I knew the local legalese, but still. It took a while. I crossed things out, rewrote clauses, and spent more time staring at the page than actually writing. Eventually, I ended up with a working draft. It wasn't perfect, but it was solid enough to start with. More importantly, it was something I could show Titi and ask if she wanted to add or change anything before we finalized it.

I, ___________________________, of my own free will and clear understanding, enter into this magically binding agreement. I acknowledge that I have read this agreement, understand its terms, have had the opportunity to ask questions, and freely choose to accept it before signing. In return for receiving the Healer class, the King's orphanage agrees to provide me with training, education, housing, food, and the opportunity to serve as one of its Healers.

In receiving the Healer class, I promise to stay and work as a Healer at the King's orphanage, using my skills to treat and care for the children who live there, for a period of ten years from the moment this contract is enacted. I understand that my primary duty is to the orphanage. I will spend a reasonable and steady amount of time healing there each week, sufficient to meet the needs of the children. My exact schedule may change as circumstances require.

I am free to heal other people outside the orphanage and accept payment for that work. Of all money earned through such healing, I will give a third to the orphanage without deliberate delay or concealment. If a child of the orphanage is in need of urgent care, that need takes priority over all outside healing work, regardless of payment, promises, or prior arrangements. I agree to assist in training apprentice Healers approved by the orphanage when asked, sharing my knowledge and experience in good faith.

I will not knowingly neglect, refuse, or withhold healing from any child under the care of the orphanage. This contract may be ended before the completion of the ten-year term only with the approval of the executor of this contract and the administration of the orphanage. This agreement applies only to me. It cannot be transferred, copied, inherited, or fulfilled by another in my place. I understand that this is a magical contract.

I understand that knowingly violating its terms will result in the loss of the Healer class and all spells and abilities that come with it. By signing below, I confirm that I understand this agreement, accept its terms, and accept the consequences of knowingly breaking it. Signature __________________ Executor__________________