The Call of the Void (Sebastian Sallow x F!MC)

XII: L e a n n a n

Sebastian is on his third consecutive day without sleep.

Sure, he's pulled all-nighters before, but never to this extent. It isn't like he's behind on his homework, or failing any of his classes, he just feels compelled to spend whatever free time he has on finding a cure for Anne. He's managed to refocus his attention over the last few weeks, minimizing other distractions, especially after his sister's most recent complication. The healers at St. Mungos and Solomon might have given up, but Sebastian will never sleep again if it guarantees her good health. He doesn't want to face the horrible reality that she—he—might be running out of time.

Most curses are dependent on a source. When the original source of the curse ceases to exist, so does the curse. One might extract the curse into another vessel (see extraction on page 43) or further corrupt the curse (see sacrifice, blood on page 178). It should be noted that this applies only to cursed objects—the study of curses in living beings is too limited to draw a proper conclusion.

Sebastian rubs a knuckle against his eye, blinking hard as the words start to blur. He's spent the afternoon leafing through different texts, scribbling down notes and theories to test when he has the proper resources.

"What have you done to my Undercroft?"

Sebastian's quill snaps against the parchment as he flinches, too entranced with his work to notice the gate open and close. Ominis looms nearby, standing over the spread-out pile on the floor with a scowl—when is he not scowling nowadays? He nudges the tip of his boot against a stack of books.

"Did you pilfer these from the restricted section?"

"No, I borrowed them," Sebastian counters, only slightly thankful for his friend's appearance, if only for the jolt of energy. He doesn't move from his spot. "Since when is it your Undercroft? I thought it was ours."

"You lost the privilege of calling it that when you brought that witch down here," Ominis replies, navigating the strewn-about mess as he plucks a worn journal from the ground for closer inspection. "This reeks of dark magic."

"Haven't I groveled enough?" Sebastian grumbles, ignoring the last comment. "What do you have against Sloane, anyway? If you want to stay mad at me, go ahead—"

"The two of you have been spending a lot of time together," Ominis interrupts without answering the question, his stoic demeanor not indicative of his true feelings.

"And?" Sebastian questions, and now he's irked by the interruption. "Just the other day you were thankful I was quote 'keeping busy'. Don't tell me you're jealous?"

"Not if you're snogging her."

"Why would I be..." Sebastian's back creaks as he adjusts his posture for the first time in hours, twisting around with a glare. "We aren't—I'm not snogging her."

"Well then, whatever it is you are doing," Ominis says, shaking his head. "So be it. As long as it isn't here."

"Don't worry, I promise I won't not snog Sloane in the Undercroft."

"You and your promises," Ominis gestures to the journal in his hand for emphasis. "You promised not to pursue the dark arts, and yet here you are again, thinking it will provide the answers to the unsolvable."

"Who says it won't?" Sebastian argues, clenching his jaw as he sweeps up some of the parchment into a neater pile for him to vanish for later. The last thing he needs right now is for Ominis to scrutinize his notes on questionable magic.