Familiar. Animals in Illusions
Flamma couldn't hide its flustered expression upon recognizing the egg cradled in his arms as a familiar.
"Why is a familiar here?!"
"Because it's the one I'm raising."
Instead of answering directly, Maness decided to observe the situation. In a mischievous way. He pulled the egg from his bosom and thrust it toward the spirit. The reaction was quite the spectacle.
"G-Get that rotten thing away from me?! Get it away!!"
When Maness assumed a throwing stance toward the creature backing up against the wall, something unimaginable happened.
"Please, just take it away! I'll beg like this!!"
Seeing it kneel and clasp its hands politely, Maness felt a pang of pity and tucked the egg back away. Only then did Flamma, peeking cautiously, spread its wings again to show off its majesty.
"Who—who are you! The familiar's master?!"
"For now, yeah."
"How could a human possess such a rare species...?"
Composing itself briefly, Flamma examined the aura emanating from Maness.
"Letos's familiar?"
"You know about it."
"Of course. We fought together on the battlefield."
Its hostility vanished, replaced by a neighborhood uncle vibe as Flamma stepped forward to face the three students.
"No hard feelings, then."
"Ahem. I just woke up after so long and got a bit carried away."
"Carried away? Felt more like you were holding back big time..."
"My epithet is the 'Undying Inferno'! I merely showed the dignity befitting it."
The sight of it puffing out flames from its nostrils in satisfaction with its own title was hard to describe.
"Are you here as punishment for past sins?"
Conien asked bluntly. Imprisoned here to atone?
Flamma quietly accepted it, folded its wings, and carefully sat down.
"Punishment..."
Propping its chin, it seemed lost in wandering memories.
"There is some injustice to it, but..."
"Injustice?"
The cataclysm. The era from when the demon race crossed to the continent until peace was restored. History recorded Flamma as a spirit sealed away for indiscriminate slaughter due to rampage.
"Contracts with humans can unlock a spirit's potential, but sometimes they become shackles."
"Shackles...?"
"That was my case."
Unlike their first encounter, the high spirit now spoke of its past in a deflated tone.
"At that time, I already possessed perfect qualifications as a high spirit. Far beyond latecomers like Ventus."
Ventus was the high wind spirit.
"Yet we proceeded with the contract because humans held the key to victory in the cataclysm. The war revolved around humans, and contracting was the rational choice to integrate."
A contract solely to end the war. A choice difficult for a spirit.
"So you rampaged after contracting? Spirits with summoners are more stable than ever."
"Oh, using honorifics for spirits? Such a polite human."
Flamma brightened at Iris's question. Few used honorifics for spirits. Even Maness wouldn't with his familiar once it hatched. Spirits' ages were immeasurable, and their power didn't correlate strictly with age, so they were often treated as equals. For Flamma, who had lived at least a millennium and ascended to high spirit, politeness wasn't odd—but treating it like others wasn't wrong either.
"To continue, it was an intentional rampage."
"Intentional rampage" felt alien. Who would desire losing one's self?
Yet Flamma claimed it happened.
"You might not know, but demons were strong."
Maness understood bone-deep. The past Amanewt showed—the powerlessness against Timeo was beyond imagination.
"As I said, the contract was like a shackle. The human couldn't fully utilize my power."
"Isn't just summoning part of utilization?"
"Of course. You don't know the effort and sacrifice needed to fully summon a high spirit."
A valid point. If contracts alone allowed full power, summoners' skills would be meaningless.
"You seem like a nature-worshipping tribe, yet so indifferent to spirits?"
"...We just prioritize martial prowess over nature."
"You should curb that obsession with one thing."
Conien's brow twitched at the sharp jab. Maness, knowing Conien would reach the pinnacle through physical prowess alone, partly agreed. Learning more would elevate him further.
"What happened next?"
Iris urged, hooked on Flamma's tale. Meeting a high spirit and hearing hidden history was captivating.
"So the contracted human said: in a moment of life and death, he'd sever the contract. Severing unilaterally from a mental bond causes the other side to lose their self."
"That's... Was it necessary?"
"Rampage. The final resort, squeezing out every ounce of power without hesitation."
A cruel method. The atrocities weren't what Flamma wanted. Centuries of slumber here seemed excessive.
"I don't resent him. I heard he got consent from battlefield humans, and in desperation, it was as good as all dead anyway."
"If true, there's no reason for this punishment."
Iris was moving beyond sympathy to empathy. Sensing it, Flamma gazed at the young mage fondly.
"Regardless of process, High Spirit Flamma killed countless humans. Punishment is natural."
"But history differs."
Conien interjected sharply. "The Empire branded you evil. To cover a consensual sacrifice."
Flamma didn't reply immediately. The long silence felt foreboding.
"What can be done? Spirits have no right to interfere in human history."
Humans don't bind spirits. Only mutual contracts exist—meaning spirits can't influence humans either.
"Interests are tricky."
Maness, who had listened quietly, spoke up. "Even with battlefield consent, it was probably rushed. War and all."
Staking one's life is a warrior's choice. But lives aren't solely one's own.
"War sacrifices are hard for others to accept. Easier to fabricate another reason."
"Fallen to high spirit rampage..."
"Simpler than explaining messy internal affairs, right?"
Conien ground his teeth. The world was intriguing but festering with filth the deeper you dug.
"Ridiculous."
Flamma's voice warmed the frosty atmosphere.
"Who pities whom? Do you think I, who's lived a millennium, crave pity from you youngsters of a mere decade-plus?"
"Wrong is wrong."
"No need for anger. Just melt past lessons into the future."
Flamma laughed heartily.
"That's humanity. Your distinguishing trait and strength against other races."
Hard to accept readily. The spirit had lived tediously long, viewing the world's flow differently from those just starting life.
"One thing I'm curious about."
Maness changed the subject, unwilling to dwell on bitter pasts.
"What?"
"Why spirits fear familiars."
Flamma flinched at "familiar." Just the name evoked such reaction—perhaps instinctually imprinted like genes.
"...Back when I was a low spirit."
"So that's the process."
"Spirits need growth too."
Belching fire, Flamma dredged up hazy old memories.
"Before dragons bestowed magic on humans. Spirits were rarer then—what magic could do now, only spirits could."
"Naturally."
"That bred arrogance. High spirits then thought: maybe we could surpass illusory beings."
An absurd notion. But such recklessness was timeless among the rational.
"The result? Terror echoing to distant posterity."
In short: overstepped without knowing their place, got harshly taught.
"Because of that, a southern island has all environments coexisting."
There was such an island: typhoons on one side, blizzards on another, lava eruptions elsewhere. Too hazardous even for tourism.
That explained it. Maness was amazed yet incredulous. A lingering mystery caused by mere hubris. Submitting it as a paper would get laughed off.
"So you must stay here forever?"
Flamma gestured to the iron chains on its arm, as if to say what a question.
"Human wrath hasn't subsided yet."
"No set term for imprisonment, then."
"Who knows. Fell into deep sleep post-rampage; woke imprisoned. Dragon advised returning to long slumber—that's all I recall."
"Dragon?"
Only Maness grasped the sudden mention. Perhaps out of shared plight. A dragon like Flamma, bound unable to leave Snowrobe grounds. Knowing the headmaster's secret, its visit likely wasn't pleasant.
"Indefinite punishment. Beyond harsh."
"Not really. Slept soundly till you came. Plus those low spirits I sent off earlier."
Excited about the low spirits, deprived of company till now.
"They were drawn here by my awakening aura. Haven't seen the outside in ages—tons to tell them."
Yet bittersweet. Chains and confinement weren't easy to bear. Like all life, it craved freedom.
"There must be a way out."
Sharing the thought, Conien stated confidently.
"As I said, not your concern."
"My tribe's elder told me: fate is to be followed, not defied—avoiding it is folly."
"She's right."
Maness chimed in. "Exhausted as we are, dragging here to meet you means something."
"...Foolish."
"If not foolish, are we even human?"
The high spirit silently watched the students search for solutions. Unsolvable magic abound. But their effort was valuable experience—no need to stop them.
"Wait, isn't it simple?"
Maness clapped, eyeing the wall's magic circle. Eyes turned expectantly. What simple solution?
"Just contract with it."
Indeed, exceedingly simple.