Seven

Chapter 4

   Leopal actually looked surprised to see Seven when she shoved open the door of his cottage, scaring him bad enough that he dropped the pile of paper scrolls he'd been holding. He tried to speak, but she cut him off.

   "I hope you're happy. I nearly died getting your damned compass thing. You could've just asked for money. Money is fine, money is easy. The back of my coat is fucking blackened. My head nearly got taken off, you fucking asshole."

   Leopal impatiently drummed his fingers on his knee for the entirety of Seven's short rant, regarding her with something akin to amusement.

   "Are you done? I have things to do. Give it to me." She slapped the device into his hand, scowling at his approving look. "Alright. Thank you. Have a seat."

   A soul. She'd finally have a soul, the one thing that truly makes her into a person instead of a magical tool created for one purpose. Seven flopped into the same creaky chair from a few days ago, watching Leopal go through the same strange motion of pushing everything off of the table. There was far less this time, only a few books and papers fluttering down to the floor.

   "Can I ask why you need a soul? Just to clarify. I'm not in the mood to break any of the Treaty of Eskamoore's conditions. Demon summoning and dead raising and all that."

   She rolled up my sleeves, tapping her fingers against the maker's marks on her cuffs. Like a signature on a piece of art. The symbol was the most recognizable sign that Seven had been, illegally, made by a warlock instead of being born. Besides the metal cuffs that were literally melted to her skin, of course.

   "I don't have a soul. He said I didn't. I can't be truly free until I have one." Instead of looking surprised, Leopal seemed almost. . . entertained. He blinked a few times, staring towards Seven, but not at her. Like there was something directly in front of her that only he could see.

   "Hmm. Nothing I can do, then. You have a soul. A rather bright one, in fact."

   "What."

   "I said, you have a-"

   "I heard you." Leopal frowned at her tone, leaning against his staff. "So. You're saying that I have a soul." He nodded. "And that there's nothing for you to do." He nodded again. "So you sent me on a possibly deadly quest to steal something from one of the realm's most dangerous creatures. Not to mention the knights."

   He seemed very pleased with himself. "Why yes, I did. It turned out rather well in my opinion. And now you know that you've had a soul all along! A win-win situation, in my personal opinion."

   His satisfaction turned to alarm when Seven elbowed him in the throat and slammed him down onto his cluttered table. A few glass vials shattered into a multicolored mess on his warped floorboards, giving off noxious fumes that would've concerned her in any other situation. Leopal let out a strangled cough, small droplets of blood beading up where her claws pierced the delicate skin of his neck.

   "You nearly got me killed for nothing," Seven snarled.

   "But did you die?" Leopal wheezed. Instead of fearing for his life like the last person she'd done this to, he looked almost smug despite his quickly decreasing oxygen supply. The muscles in Seven's hands tensed before she stepped back, exhaling slowly. Nothing useful comes from killing a powerful warlock. No matter how aggravating he is. Especially when he'd made more than one allusion towards being immortal. If she killed him, he'd probably come back in a few hour or days and kill her. As far as Seven knows, she'd not immortal. The only way to find out is to die, and that's not a something she wants to test.

   "Why?"

   He waited a few long seconds before responding, dabbing at the pinpricks of red on his neck and inhaling deeply.

   "You offended me. And I'm a notoriously petty individual. I saw an opportunity to bend the situation to my advantage, so I did. It really isn't that difficult to piece together. Now go away. I've grown tired of your presence."

   She backed towards the door and away from Leopal, letting out a low hiss at his increasingly smug expression. "You're an asshole."

   "Oh, I know. It's something I flaunt mercilessly."

   "If I ever see you again, I'll kill you."

   "Mm. It's good for children to have goals. Motivates them to do something with their dull lives. Now, I believe I requested that you leave." On the last word, an invisible hand forcibly shoved her back so she stumbled out the door. It slammed shut in front of her, the distinct sounds of several locks turning meeting her ears.