Devourer Of Destiny - Chapter 155

Ebon Dirge was on his way back to Martin’s shop when the frantic message arrived from Albus via the teacher’s token. It was a fortunate thing that he hadn’t deferred the issue; the young man’s “urges” were already ramping up. Gently, he talked the lad into enduring through the night and promised that there’d some solutions when they met in the morning.

Dirge hadn’t taken Albus to visit Martin just for the hell of it, or out of some misguided guilt about the kid no longer fitting in his clothing. There was no one better in the world for tailoring some particular things that would be needed to suppress his student’s problematic side. If the matter hadn’t become so immediately urgent, he would have handled it more discreetly, since the tailor was the link between Harmony Sable and Jet the arena fighter.

Stepping back into the tailor shop, Dirge was greeted with the sight of the eccentric tailor at his counter, humming to himself. The man had thankfully enough worn an almost normal looking suit today, although the blue velour might have been a shade too bright. “Back so soon, Harmony?”

Dirge rolled his eyes. “There’s some additional work I need done for the kid, Martin. Something very custom but that I’m sure you could get your hands on and work with.”

“Oh, a little extra for the gentleman? Something you’d like to surprise him with?” Martin quipped with a sparkle in his eye and a twinge of a grin on his lips.

“And be unfaithful to my one true love, your awfully bright suits?” Dirge returned snidely. “He’s a student, Martin, and while you can guess I have few principles, no fraternization with children is one of those. What I need for him is something to assist with an issue involving his cultivation.”

One of Martin’s well-sculpted eyebrows raised questioningly. “And you’re sure this is something I can do?”

“I’m not asking you to pull out another spool of soulsilk,” Dirge replied, “I just need a bit of cloth treated with a tincture. Specifically, something that can be secured over his junk, Martin.”

Martin smirked. “That might be more than just a bit of cloth–”

“Would you like me to set you up with him, Martin?” Dirge cut in. “I’m sure you’d have a wonderful time, and at least we can make sure you’ll be properly dressed and wearing a smile for the funeral if it all really goes wrong.”

Martin’s smirk slid into a perplexed frown.

“Incubus, Martin,” Dirge said bluntly. “The kid had an obscured demonic bloodline. We woke it up and it turned out to be that of all the things it could have been. The point of our bit of cloth is to suppress certain urges from the angle of pure libido while we work on his cravings for vitality. Albus is probably going to sleep his way around the student body and faculty anyway, but I’d like to make sure there aren’t any fatal incidents. That’s going to take some discipline.”

Martin burst out laughing.

“Martin,” Dirge chided with a bit of an edge.

“I’m sorry, Harmony, just the mental image that work evokes for me is… nevermind. I’d rather not wash blood out of, well, everything,” he replied, gesturing to all the clothing, swatches of cloth, and himself in turn.

“Smart decision,” Dirge agreed. “Now, provided we can get everything on the list and your little fingers could get to sewing, you might even get rid of me before sunrise. I don’t plan on leaving until this is handled, Martin.”

——–

Dirge was in his office bright and early when he called Albus over. The kid rushed over with such urgency that the immortal assassin was surprised the door remained on its hinges after that hurried arrival.

“Good of you to make it here so quickly, Albus,” Dirge remarked blandly. “Take a moment to breathe and then we’ll get started.”

Albus nodded as he made a visible effort to slow his breathing. It was clear to Dirge that the youth hadn’t slept at all, let alone well, although with a tinge of amusement he noted that still made him a hundred times less haggard looking than before the transformation. Beads of sweat stood out on the young man’s brow, and his pale eyes had a wildness to them that hadn’t been there before.

“I see neither of us got to sleep overnight, but after a good amount of research and an emergency trip to Martin’s I was able to come up with enough to get this under control before you leave this room, Albus,” Dirge announced.

“Thank you, Miss Sable,” Albus replied gratefully. “I want you to know that whatever happens–”

Dirge raised a hand. “Spare me, please. This is just a bit of growing pains, Albus. I’d reassure you that you aren’t a monster, but that’d technically be lying. It still doesn’t hurt your prospects in the Academy. There will be no maudlin talk about settling for being glad to know the truth at least or whatever. You’re stuck with me, all the way up the damn spire, got it?”

Albus nodded in mute agreement.

“Excellent,” Dirge replied with a smile. “Now, there are some things I have to explain to you, but let’s take care of other business first. Strip.”

Albus’ eyes widened for a moment, but he complied and started peeling off the outfit he’d gotten at Martin’s the evening before, a simple set of casual wear in black. “Uh, is that a good idea?” He asked even as he was pulling his shirt over his head.

“Don’t worry, if you try anything I’ll just kick your ass yet again, Albus,” Dirge said sweetly.

Albus nodded as he finished removing his clothing, setting it aside in a neat pile. Goosebumps pebbled his skin as the effects of the room temperature were more apparent to him now. Dirge had intentionally made it colder as a side measure.

“Okay, good, no crazy growths or anything cropping up through the night. You’ve had a very stable transition on the physical front, at least, Albus,” Dirge remarked. “Here, throw this on.” He tossed a small bundle of cloth at the student.

Albus’ eyebrows raised as he caught and unraveled the garment, but he quickly complied. The undergarment really only handled the concerns of his frontal modesty, but that was where the specially treated cloth needed to be.

“That’s what Martin and I were able to come up with,” Dirge announced. “Keep it on as much as possible and it’ll… dial down some of your tendencies. Eventually you’ll be rid of it, but consider it a training aid. By the way, that whole deal with temptation you’re having, is that going on right now?”

“I wouldn’t dare–” Albus started responding with a headshake.

“No need to be shy about it,” Dirge interrupted. “I’m not interested in your feelings about it, but rather on how far the urges go.”

Albus frowned and his forehead wrinkled as he thought about it for a moment. “You know, for you, I don’t feel it at all. I can sense that you have a great vitality but it feels… walled off?”

Dirge nodded. He wasn’t particularly worried about having to fight off the young man’s urges but was more interested in if the homunculus body’s simulation of life was complete enough to be considered the same. The result wasn’t conclusive, as his soul may also have had a part to play in the youth’s subconscious analysis, but it was worth knowing.

“You can get dressed again, Albus,” Dirge said permissively. “Let’s talk about some facts of life that you’re going to have to get used to, and then I will provide you with a technique that should do the trick.”

“Yes, Miss Sable,” Albus eagerly rushed to pull his clothing back on.

“The first thing you need to get used to is the fact that you’re going to be sleeping around a lot,” Dirge announced bluntly. “That’s your nature, and fighting that, at least at this stage, would only form a bottleneck in your cultivation. This is why I am only dampening some of that urge, while you obtain the required self-control to play responsibly, so to speak.”

Albus’s cheeks flushed. “I don’t know that it’ll be all that many, Miss Sable.”

Dirge laughed. “Oh, it’ll be a lot. The key is that you can take a bit, but not everything. Now, you mentioned something about having a feeling that if you decided to have someone come to you, they would, yes?”

Albus nodded. “Yeah, it was odd, just a feeling, and it’s when they’re looking at me–”

“Try it right now, Albus,” Dirge said, leaning forward and giving the young man a good stare.

Albus blinked his eyes in surprise for a moment before shrugging. “As you say.” Then he locked his gaze onto Dirge’s, his eyebrows pushed together in concentration.

Dirge felt a sudden tug at his soul, just a small jolt, but that was impressive enough coming from a mortal. “Enough.”

Albus relaxed. “See, just a feeling, I guess.”

Dirge shook his head. “Oh no, definitely not just a feeling, Albus. You are going to have to take great care when it comes to making eye contact with people from now on.”

“You mean that did something?” Albus responded with a bit of alarm. “I’m sorry–”

Dirge raised a silencing hand. “I asked you to try it. Don’t worry, I’m not made of spun glass. You have some kind of innate eye technique, and there are probably only a handful of people in the entire school who can shrug it off like I can. I think we can agree that you should narrow your depredations to those in your more immediate range first so we don’t tip off anybody important, right?”

“Narrow my depredations… you’re really serious about it being that many?”

“Absolutely, Albus,” Dirge replied with a small sigh. “Get used to the idea that you won’t be sleeping in your own quarters most of the time. This is your cultivation now. All we’re doing is making it non-fatal and not every waking minute, anything beyond that is going to come down to how you advance and how much self-control you can get away with.”

“You said there’s a technique I can learn?” Albus asked with an odd expression on his face.

Dirge burst into laughter. “I’m sorry,” he said once the spasm passed, “you should see your face right now, Albus. It’s not that kind of technique. What I have to impart to you is called the Heartlock Sutra.”

“The Heartlock Sutra…” Albus murmured slowly.

“Close your eyes and I’ll start the impartation right away,” Dirge ordered, and Albus complied.

Dirge had looked through various techniques at his disposal and had settled on the Heartlock Sutra finally. There was a case to be made for the twin Passion Sublimation and Passion Amplification techniques, but he was reasonably sure he’d be creating a serial killer if he passed those along to Albus. Not that he minded that on principle, but since he had a reputation to maintain he decided it would be best to find something more manageable.

The Heartlock Sutra wasn’t a breathing technique like those others either, just a mental fortification manual that bordered on being a soul scripture. It didn’t strengthen the soul though, only the user’s mentality. Albus would still be well-adjusted, but it wouldn’t be wrong to say that he would be seen as a heartless philanderer, a man who could coldly rummage through people like they were a pile of laundry to be sorted.

The young man would undoubtedly learn impulse control, but he would also shed a lot of the detritus that could get in the way of his progress. Albus’ inadequacy complex would go, and so would much of his ability to feel shame and guilt. For a being that plundered vitality in such a physically intimate fashion, this kind of adjustment in personality was a more favorable outcome than the alternatives.

Albus’ eyes snapped open as the transmission of the technique ended.

“And there it is,” Dirge announced with a smile. “You’ve got around four hours to practice it, right here.”

“Four hours? I thought you said I wouldn’t be leaving until this was all settled?”

Dirge grinned wickedly. “Oh, you’ll stay here until it’s all sorted, but in four hours Theo is going to be here for his appointment, and you wouldn’t want him to be your first, would you?”