Ailia knew the man before her was telling the truth.
To him, this was indeed a transaction.
After a long moment, the tension finally left Ailia's body.
She closed her eyes. When she opened them again, the hatred and conflict within them had been replaced by a cold rationality.
"Fine, I agree. But we must sign a Magic Contract, swearing upon our souls."
"Acceptable."
Raylo didn't hesitate for a second.
Soon, a contract formed of Magic Power materialized between the two of them.
An ancient Spell echoed through the study, finally transforming into two silver rings of light that branded themselves onto the backs of Raylo's and Ailia's hands before fading from sight.
"What do you want to see?" she asked.
"Mist."
Raylo said only a single word.
Ailia said nothing more. She extended a slender finger and traced a line through the air.
The moisture in the air gathered in her palm at a visible rate. Wisps and tendrils converged, quickly forming a dense, white mist.
