"Can we skip past the lodrama?" August asked, arms folded. "We all know why you’re here, and what we want. It’s not like you have anywhere better to be."
Sen’s eyes transford into dinner plates. Ifrit turned his head and glared at August, his eyes narrowing.
"Must you ruin one of my few guilty pleasures?" Ifrit said, crossing his arms. They were thick enough to imitate tree trunks. "The summoning is an important mont for to impress upon people my power."
"Sure, but we kind of already know about your power. I wouldn’t have summoned you if I didn’t," August said.
"You’re not one for parties, are you?" Ifrit asked. The booming timbre of his voice had settled and now made him sound like a grumbling old man. "I’ve half a mind to leave and make you respect the next djinni you summon."
"Really? Leave, go back, and do what? Play cards for the next several decades in the spirit world?" August taunted.
"I have so wonderful friends. It’s not so bad."
"Excuse , but what the hell?" Sen burst out.
August and Ifrit looked back at Sen. Sensing a chance to regain his earlier montum, Ifrit let out a deep cough.
"Well, little mortal, have you dwelt upon your innermost desires and co to your conclusion? For what purpose have you summoned ?" Ifrit said.
Sen stared at him. Her eyes narrowed. "This is just theater, isn’t it? You talked like a normal person to August, but now you sound like sobody from a folk tale. Do you think this is funny?"
"No, I feel that it’s fun," Ifrit replied. He sighed and stared at the ceiling for several seconds. "Very well, if you prefer it, I shall get to the point. Why do you want my power, human?"
"Well, I want to fight for August and—"
"Your Bastion may want you to fight for him, but is that what you truly want?" Ifrit’s gaze bore down on Sen. She shrunk in on herself and looked to August for support.
In response, Ifrit flung a claw out toward August. "Do not intervene, Bastion. I will hear her answer. You Bastions are predictable. I don’t need to hear your reasons. Only hers."
Sen swallowed, closed her eyes, and fell silent for nearly a minute.
When she opened her eyes, they were filled with the determination that August expected to see from her, even if she had always been too scared in his tiline to show it so openly.
"What I told you is exactly what I want," Sen repeated.
"Why?" Ifrit asked.
"Because I want to support him. He supports right now, even though my power as a spellblade is too weak to compare to his Champions.
And I can’t beco a Champion easily. I’m already talented at fire elent sorcery.
With you, I can beco a worthy partner of August’s," Sen said.
Ifrit considered Sen silently. After several seconds, he turned to face August.
"You are the summoner here. Have you explained the risks?" Ifrit asked.
"I have," he said. "In detail."
"And you still allow her to do this?" Ifrit’s voice hadn’t changed, but August knew he was being judged.
Before August could answer, Sen cut in.
"It’s my decision," Sen said. "The effects on my body, the restraints on my sorcery, the unaging, the need to live with you in my mind at all tis. It’s my choice. Not yours. Not August’s."
Ifrit chuckled. "Not my choice? You realize I’m going to be bound to you until your demise, yes?"
"And what else will you do?" Sen smirked. "Go back to the spirit world and play cards for the next several decades? This is my choice. Deal with it."
Letting out a sigh, Ifrit turned fully toward August. "She’s a willful one. It’s rare for to possess sobody with such ntal fortitude."
August wasn’t sure how to feel about that statent.
"So you accept?" Sen asked, her voice raising in pitch.
"I thought you said it was your choice?" Ifrit replied, amused. "But I have one final question before I agree to the possession. You may feel that I will agree no matter your answer, but this ritual is an odd one."
The spirit leaned toward August, until his demonic visage hung only an arm’s breadth away.
The heat let off by Ifrit spilled across the summoning circle. August broke out in a sweat.
The barrier was supposed to keep Ifrit in. If his natural heat broke through, what else could?
"Tell , how and why did you summon , specifically?" Ifrit asked. "I can recall all circumstances relative to which I have given out my true na, and I do not believe you could know it."
August gulped.
Ifrit had asked the one question he’d hoped to avoid until after the possession, but he’d known it was highly likely to co up.
Ifrit’s na was not "Ifrit."
All spirits possess a true na, which they do not give out lightly.
A sorcerer can use a true na to directly call upon a spirit, and the spirit must respond to their true na.
The spirit can refuse any requests made, but they must always respond to a summons, and often the re knowledge of their true na implies a level of trust.
Knowing Ifrit’s true na had allowed August to summon the specific ifrit that Sen had been possessed by in August’s tiline.
August trusted Ifrit. But he shouldn’t know his true na.
Ifrit had given it to him as a gesture of faith, to be used should the worst occur and August need to summon another ifrit again.
Without those mories, it was natural for Ifrit to be curious, and perhaps even upset.
Taking a deep breath, August decided upon the only answer he felt he could give. Ifrit would possess Sen shortly regardless, and have his own answer.
"You may not recall the circumstances, and you may not think I can know your true na, but I rember," August said, matching Ifrit’s terrifying gaze. "We’ve t before."
Nothing more needed to be said.
Even if August tried to explain, the simple fact he knew Ifrit’s na was proof that Ifrit had trusted him.
Spirits were immortal. Not even a binding stone could slay them. No spirit could have their true na forced from them.
Ifrit stood still for close to a minute. August continued to sweat. Eventually, Ifrit said, "I see."
August blinked. "You do?"
Straightening up, Ifrit gave August a sidelong glance. "I have existed since ti immorial. While I may not recall the birth of this world, I have knowledge of mysteries and wonders that nobody else has. You are a Bastion. I know your magic well, and the things it can do."
He did?
August never recalled Ifrit sharing this kind of information.
"I don’t rember any spirits ever speaking of binding stones," August said.
"Because it would be dangerous to do so. You have sworn an oath to protect such knowledge, have you not?" Ifrit held a claw to his mouth, as if to symbolize silence. "I may not believe in the divinity of your goddess, but I know her power."
With that, Ifrit fell silent. August took that as a sign that he had said enough.
"Then you are satisfied?" August asked.
"I am. This will prove entertaining," Ifrit said.
That was the go-ahead to complete the ritual. Unlike the summoning itself, finalizing the possession was simple.
Sen brushed aside so of the salt separating her from Ifrit.
The wall of smoke that protected her from Ifrit vanished into nothingness, and she stood face-to-face with the spirit.
Ifrit placed the tip of one of his claws against Sen’s head.
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