The darkness of the room felt all encompassing, a stark difference from this morning. So much light came in from the gaudy windows that it seemed too bright but now?
Now the shadows lay heavy over everything, a sheet that was suffocating.
When did it even get this late?
It didn't feel like he had done much at all today, and he hadn't even eaten anything.
Wait - shouldn't he be hungry? Or at least uncomfortable in some way?
Yeah, he can sometimes get so focused on something he doesn't remember to eat, but he's usually at least cranky.
He shifts, reaching out hesitantly to grab the crystal ball. It shouldn't do anything as far as he understands unless he follows the journal's instructions but he didn't want to take any risks.
Maybe if he makes his way down to the main floor - carefully because of course the weird magic stairs are a death trap in the dark - he can find some matches and light a candle or something.
Then go find wherever the food is kept in this place.
The journal is quickly scooped up, tucked under his arm and the crystal gets cradled to his chest. With one hand on the wall, he works his way down the stairs sliding his foot off each step till it hits the next one.
The small amount of light from the windows is quickly dwindling, and after what feels like an hour he stands in the main area of the room in faint moonlight.
Subin makes his way over to the study area, where he thought he remembered seeing some candles set out.
As he scours the desk, he finally sees one when the moonlight shines through the cloud cover of the night.
It's one of those old hand-held candlesticks with a brass plate and an ornate curving handle attached to it. It looked small, but would still work for light.
All he needs to find now are matches. Maybe they had lighters here, but based on some of the objects he's seen around the room, that seems a bit advanced based on the time period.
At least he thinks so. In all fairness, Subin didn't really know when lighters were invented.
Quiet rattling fills the room as he searches the drawers. There's a lot of random items in them, most of which he can't truly place what they are.
One drawer is full of quills, all distinct in appearance, another is full of glassware he doesn't recognize and a third is just what looks like a rock collection?
When he opens a fourth and is greeted by what look like brooches and other accessories that were in various states of disrepair, he begins to lose some hope.
'Does this guy not have a single junk drawer? Or just like tools? Other than the quills?'
Chewing on his lip, he opens another drawer and is greeted finally by what appears to be wooden handled tools, only he doesn't recognize most of them.
They look vaguely like woodcarvers' tools, but in a much wider array and in shapes he's not seen before.
He picks one up, bringing it closer in the dim light. This one lacked the wooden handle the others had, instead having the bow like handle of a pair of scissors that was riveted to a metal box with a long metal spike attached.
It honestly looks like one of those strange old medical tools.
Subin quickly puts it away, frowning at the thought. Hopefully in a world with magic tools like that aren't used as often.
A click breaks the silence of the room, startling Subin.
He quickly slams the drawer shut, and turns to the sound hoping that it's just Harker. The man may have horns and a prehensile tail but he's the only person Subin has talked to this whole time.
Instead, he's blinded by a line of light streaming in from the door, obscuring whoever it was.
Raising a hand to try and block the light, Subin squints at the figure. Before he can call out to them, a familiar voice fills the air.
"My Lord?"
"Harker?" Subin asks as the man's silhouette starts to take form in the doorway.
"Yes, it's me, I brought you a meal." He raises a covered plate in his hand as he slowly starts to close the door.
"Why are you in the dark, My Lord?"
Glancing back at the candle beside him, Subin coughs into his hand.
"I, uh, I couldn't find the matches."
Subin cringes internally at the look Harker gives him. It's full of genuine confusion and concern.
The door shuts behind Harker fully and the man makes his way over to Subin in the study. He sets the dish down and then reaches over to the hand-held candle.
His hand rests on it, and a strange feeling washes over Subin. It disappears quickly, so he doesn't have much time to place it, but it was similar to when someone hovers their hand over your skin. There's nothing actually touching you but you feel them there anyways.
The candle suddenly sputters to life, the flame flickering widely then coming to a steady flame.
"How did you do that?" Subin asks, moving closer to the table.
"The lights are able to be powered the same as the crystal."
Harker's head is turned away from him so Subin can't see his expression, but there's a hint of sadness to his voice. An awkward silence fills the air the longer Subin stares at the man's back.
He's not sure what to say to that. It feels like he should say something but how do you respond to "oh yeah the lights are magic"?
Before he can put his foot in his mouth, Harker breaks the silence.
"Was there not magic like this where you were?" His voice is hesitant, and with his back still to Subin it's obvious that he's ready for the subject to be shut down.
When a beat happens without Subin saying anything, Harker takes a step towards the door
"I can leave now if you wish My-"
"No. There was nothing like this." The words are soft, but Harker immediately stops speaking when he hears Subin's voice.
"So you haven't - is - " The man turns to Subin, concern written across his face. "Do you remember how to use magic then?"
Subin glances at the crystal on the table, setting his hand next to it before he states, "I was able to power the crystal wasn't I?"
The words from the journal about Harker run through his mind. That the truth might hurt him. He had been the only person Subin had interacted with this whole time, and he seemed… raw.
Like something had ripped him to shreds emotionally, but without any information Subin wasn't sure how to handle that.
For now, the best option seemed to be to trust the journal.
"I apologize, that was presumptuous of me, my lord." When Subin turns to him the man is in a half bow hiding his face from Subin.
"Don't apologize." He says waving a hand at Harker. After a quick debate he adds on "I don't remember the last time I used magic well."
A half lie shouldn't hurt him too badly.
Probably.
"A-Alright, My Lord." Harker's voice wavers at first, causing Subin's heart to fall.
'Shit, did I say something wrong?' He bites at the corner of his lip, 'I thought that would be fine, it would normally be the truth no?'
Maybe he had misjudged the situation some or-
"May I offer some advice?"
Blinking in surprise, Subin nods at his question. "I don't see why not?"
"Please be careful, My Lord. Your mana always needs time to build, and at the risk of sounding brazen, when you have come from somewhere without magic you tend to overdo it." Harker glances quickly at Subin, a placating smile on his face as he uncovers the dish.
It isn't anything spectacular, it looks like some kind of pasta with sauce, but the shape and color aren't anything Subin is used to. A drink he assumes is tea of some kind sits beside it.
"I do not want to overstep, but I just want to make sure you are taking care of yourself."
Subin gives him a smile in return, moving the candle closer to the dish and setting the journal beside it.
"Thank you Harker," He means it too. It feels almost impossible to not feel thankful for the man who has seemed to go out of his way to help him, even if it was just getting him from the weird coffin room and then bringing him food and a drink.
And just being kind to him.
"I shall take my leave now, My Lord."
Even if he keeps using that dumb title.
Hell the man might just be able to answer some of his questions if he words them well enough to not make him suspicious.
A thought strikes him as Harker moves towards the main door, and he calls out "Wait, just - I have a question, Harker."
The man turns back towards him, his horns glinting in the candlelight as he replies, "Yes?"
Subin tears his eyes away from the way the light reflects as if the horns were made of some mix of keratin and ceramic.
"I was just wondering why I only have seen you now? I.." He pauses trying to think of the best wording, "have been awake for longer than I thought, and hadn't even realized how late it had gotten. I didn't even get hungry."
It's Harker's turn to be surprised, and he blinks slowly, eyes wide.
"Oh, well - right you would not be used to -" He begins mumbling to himself faster than Subin can keep up to hear.
"You may have forgotten, but despite your… current circumstances, and how you may have lived during your slumber, but you have a similar body structure to myself. You need much less sustenance than other races."
He turns his head toward the dish left on the table.
"Over time you have taken to eating one meal at night to keep a routine."
Harker moves his hands behind his back, standing straight backed as he waits for Subin's reply
"I see," He says as he pulls the chair out at the desk, and sits down still facing Harker. "Thank you."
"Of course, have a good night, my Lord." He tilts his head then exits the room, the door closing with a soft click behind him.
Subin pours over the information he's been given, as he turns the pasta over with his fork.
The lights in the room are powered through magic. He doesn't actually need to eat that often - which is weird and feels like there is more to it than just that - and something seemed to be eating at Harker.
There was definitely something he was missing about the man, but he didn't have enough information to place what. He seemed to genuinely care about Subin, and who he was before this, but to a point Subin didn't understand.
Maybe it just came with being the Demon King's aide, but that didn't feel right.
Either way, there wasn't anything he could do about that right then.
Stabbing a piece of pasta, he flips the journal back over, scanning the list of things the Demon King left him.
'This," he thinks, staring at the writing, "is something I can start working on now.'
The list wasn't long, only about a dozen things for him to read over, and they seemed to be in order of importance.
He brings the book closer, finally taking a bite of the dish.
His eyes widen, the pasta tasting better than he thought.
Maybe reading can wait until he finishes eating though.