The scarred man stared at Unwan for a while. Then he carefully picked up the grimoire and began to examine it with meticulous attention. His fingers traced the raised heptagon and the stars embossed on the cover, slowly brushing over every detail before he finally set it back down and slid it across the table toward Unwan.
— So you're saying your grimoire is rare, different from the others. Then why choose our cohort in particular?
Unwan fell silent for a moment. He glanced around. This time, something felt strange. Everything seemed… unnaturally black. Still, he turned back to his companion and answered in a calm, emotionless tone, careful not to break the etiquette of conversation.
— I need secrecy. Like a shadow. I have to remain behind everything. As you know, this grimoire is rare. Owning it could make me, perhaps, famous across the world.
He let out a quiet sigh before continuing.
— But because of my wretched curse, that's the main reason for this situation. I don't want to go against the whole world.
The two of them fell into silence. Unwan worried they might refuse to accept him into the cohort. After all, an entire life's path hung in the balance here. True, even without a cohort an Owner could live as an ordinary person, or find another one. But finding one this suitable would be difficult.
Especially with Unwan's [Unliked] curse.
After a while, the scarred man spoke again.
— To remain behind like a shadow, is that it? But why do you need that? What exactly does your curse mean? And how does it affect the whole world?
Unwan wanted to avoid answering. In the end, though, he turned toward the man beside him and admitted quietly,
— I can't explain my curse in detail. But I can tell you this, it's active right now.
The man fell silent, as if trying to recall certain events. Meanwhile, Unwan studied the surroundings more carefully. The tables and chairs were black, entrance door was black. Even the glasses were made of dark glass.
Unwan frowned.
'Why is everything so black?'
'How should I know?'
'I wasn't asking you.'
'…'
The man suddenly let out a faint chuckle, though the coldness in his voice had not fully disappeared.
— So your curse is related to relationships. Hm. Interesting. But how would you be of use to us?
Unwan hesitated. No matter how hard he thought, no answer came to mind. What could he possibly offer?
He wanted to reply with something simple, convincing, even if it was a lie. But the words would not come. It was as if someone had stolen them away.
In the end, he had no choice but to tell the truth, answering in his usual flat tone.
— None. I'm sorry, I hadn't thought that far. I did try to look into the cohorts, but I couldn't find much information. There are still things I don't fully understand.
He sighed softly and glanced around once more.
— Fine. I'll accept you into the cohort. But I have two conditions. First, you'll tell me about your curse. Second, you'll explain your grimoire.
Unwan paused, calculating who would gain more, or lose less in this arrangement. Clearly, he was the one at a disadvantage. Revealing details about his curse was no small matter.
After a moment, he replied.
— I agree. But I have two conditions as well.
The scarred man raised an eyebrow, his voice turning colder.
— Oh?
— First, no matter what happens, you must promise to train me. And you must never speak about me to anyone.
It was a bold demand. No one set conditions before someone several ranks above them. Such a person could crush Unwan at any moment. Yet the scarred man's expression flickered with faint annoyance. He had intended to toy with Unwan, but Unwan had sensed it.
— Fine. We have a deal.
Unwan explained his grimoire, what his spells depended on, and the nature of the [Unliked] curse. The man across from him listened with unwavering focus. When Unwan finished, even giving examples to clarify everything, his filthy inner voice sneered.
'Hah, Impressive. Telling all that to someone whose name you don't even know. What an idiot.'
'So what? If he turns out to be evil, I'll suppress him with Changing spell. If he truly is evil, the chances of him being high-ranked are low. And if you care that much about his name, fine.
— Sir, I've explained so much, yet I still haven't heard your name. What is it?
The man looked at him. Though coldness, and perhaps a trace of anger lingered in his eyes, he restrained himself. Now he understood how Unwan's curse worked.
— My name is Odey. Captain of this cohort.
Unwan froze in surprise. When he imagined a cohort captain, he pictured someone in their thirties or forties. Yet, in a way, it suited him. The scars across Odey's body made him both terrifying and, strangely, striking.
Odey thought for a moment before speaking again.
— So, your life has been as harsh as your grimoire suggests. Good. I'll prepare you until the next new month. When it arrives, we'll enter the Night Curse. If we return, you may become a Reader.
He exhaled and stood.
— Let's go, Unwan.
— Go where?
— Where else? To the training hall.
Unwan glanced around. There was no door anywhere except the entrance they had come through.
— But there are no doors.
— There are. They're simply hidden. A cohort cannot exist without its training halls.
He raised his hand.
In that instant, the table and the glasses vanished. Not only theirs, all tables and chairs disappeared. The darkness around them shifted, turning into something fluid and strange. It flowed toward Odey, as if drawn to him. And then...
It merged with his shadow.
The room became completely empty.
Odey walked toward the wall and brushed aside a portion of the black substance with his hand. A faint mechanical sound echoed through the air.
He spoke calmly.
— This is why my cohort is called Shadow.