Legend of Ransera

123 Searing 49th

Deep within the Circle of Spells’ library, Ivar found himself surrounded by rows upon rows of books, scrolls, and ancient parchments. He was here to find examples of magical contracts. He had a nagging suspicion in the back of his mind about Flora and their agreement. In summary, he was to financially support her and her parents and in exchange she would give him children and marry him. He could be confident that he would hold up his end of the bargain, but there was nothing stopping Flora from backing out.

It wasn't that he didn't trust her, but he'd be lying if he said he didn't have doubts. He had a nagging suspicion that she might just be using him for his money only to ditch him at her first chance. He’d already put two season’s wages into helping out her family and justly didn’t want to get screwed.

As Ivar navigated through the many rows of shelves, his finger brushed against leather-bound books which helped him focus on the titles. His other hand held his illumite which further helped identify each book. He finally located the section that contained reference material for scrivening. He pulled out a particularly ancient-looking tome, its cover embossed with symbols and scripts that contained some legal jargon.

He lifted his glasses from his robes and put them squarely onto his face which helped him focus on the lettering. It didn’t take long for him to realize that this wasn’t what he was looking for. This was focused on business dealings and a good chunk of the pictography was so complicated than he couldn’t even comprehend it.

“Something more simple,” he said to himself while sliding the book back into the shelf.

Ivar found a more suitable book a couple paces down the isle. It was the same as the last in the sense that it wasn’t instructional. However, some of the pictography looked like they might be usable for what Ivar had in mind.

Ivar took the book to a desk and took out some parchment to jot down sketches of the parts he intended to copy. He was particularly interested in how the words of the agreement were supposed to be integrated within the pictography. There was also the matter of getting the contract to compel the signers to uphold their end of the bargain.

"Blood. Of course," Ivar murmured as he flipped through and noticed that literally every contract in the book was signed by some red ink. He assumed it was blood but he supposed it could’ve been some kind of special magical ink with blood as a reagent.

"No wonder they're so potent. A magical contract is not just a promise, it's combined with the very life essence of the signatories."

Ivar sighed, releasing the tension he hadn't realized he'd been holding. He leaned back, looking at the library surrounding him, the knowledge it contained feeling more weighty than before. "Would I even be able to convince her to sign in blood? She’ll have to if she wants to keep getting money…"

This wasn't his area of expertise, not by a long shot, but necessity was a powerful teacher. He took out one of his magical scrolls and began to draft up a contract of his own. He began with the basic premise of the agreement: marriage. Two people committing to each other in a bond of trust and companionship.

The stipulations on behavior, he figured, would be an essential part of the contract. Fair treatment, respect, kindness, love, etc. were the foundations of any healthy relationship but he didn’t know how to enforce anything like that. He settled for just settling for the term “marriage.” That seemed fairly simple in comparison.

The wording of the contract was as such: “I, _____, agree to marry and give an honest effort in order to bear the child of _____ within the year. In exchange, _____ agree to pay reasonable expenses to support ______ and her parents.”

He examined his work critically, squinting at each word and phrase. He could see gaps in the wording, loopholes that a skilled linguist could exploit. But this was his first magical contract and he’d intended for it to be very simple. He wouldn’t even be surprised if it didn’t work.

He proceeded to the next step, the actual scrivening, bringing life to the agreement with the flow of magical ink. His hand moved with confidence, etching lines and pictographs into the parchment with care. The things he drew acted as anchors, connecting the places where names were to be inscribed, binding the signers to their promises.

Every now and then, he paused to study the symbols and paths in other contracts, comparing them with his work. He made adjustments as needed, always seeking to improve, to ensure the contract was as solid and binding as he could make it.

After a long day of tireless work, Ivar packed away his scrivening tools and looked over the completed contract with satisfaction. It was time to present his work to Flora. Using his mastery over teleportation, he disappeared from the library, reappearing moments later in Flora's bedroom.

The room was warm and cozy, scented with the subtle fragrance of roses. Flora was already there, seated at a mirror, brushing her hair. She glanced at Ivar's arrival in the mirror without any hint of surprise.

Ivar, holding the contract in his hands, took a deep breath and approached her. “I’ve got something to show you."

Flora put down her brush and turned to face him. "Hm? You want to start already?" She expected him to make an advance because he’d done so for several nights in a row.

Ivar held out the contract to her. "No, I wanted to show you this contract. For our... agreement."

Flora’s face fell slightly, a flicker of surprise and irritation passing through her eyes. "A contract?" she echoed, raising an eyebrow. "Are you implying you don't trust me?"

Ivar quickly shook his head. "No, it's not that, this is merely to protect both of us. To ensure everything is clear and binding."

Flora took the contract from him, her gaze scanning over the parchment. She sighed, tossing it onto the vanity. "Yeah right. If you don't trust me to keep my word, then perhaps you should be questioning why we are even doing this."

"I do trust you," Ivar said earnestly, “this protects you too."

Flora stuck her finger out at him angrily, ignoring his words, "I’m not some... some cheat who would back out of a promise! How dare you?"

"I don't mean to insult you," Ivar said, trying to keep his tone calm despite the rising tension. "I thought this would make you happy…”

There was a silence, punctuated only by Flora’s heavy sighs and the faint sounds of the night outside. Flora turned away, her shoulders tight. "Make me happy? Good job. I think you should go," she finally said, her voice barely above a whisper. "And don’t you dare bring a contract back here ever again."

Ivar watched her for a moment, a lump forming in his throat. At this point he knew he’d made a mistake. “Okay, let’s forget the contract then.” He tore the contract in half and stuffed it in his pocket. “Now, can we get to back to our usual arrangement?”

“Oh I don’t think so. If you want to do ‘that’ then you don’t get to pull this shit.” Flora said, “if we’re going to be married you’re going to have to deal with the consequences for bad behavior. You know there’s other men out there that would help me if I asked. You were the first to offer help so I gave you a chance and you’re blowing it.”

Ivar was surprised that she was speaking back to him this way since she’d been so submissive during previous encounters. He didn’t have much experience trying to hold a relationship so this was all coming as a big shock. He tried to think of something that could make things better and ultimately realized that there was nothing he could do.

“Sorry.”

With that, he teleported to his own home where he shouted out in frustration. He stormed over to his nightstand, his shelves, his countertops, then his tables. He dragged his arm across all of them sending his things flying every which way. He couldn’t remember the last time he was this angry.

He blinked around the home smashing things and letting out every negative emotion he had. Unfortunately this was a pain he couldn’t just run away from. This felt worse than any physical pain he’d ever felt, even worse than being initiated. It was a pain in his metaphorical heart.

The small home was a mess now, mirroring the chaotic storm of thoughts in his head. But somehow, the mess seemed fitting, comforting even. It was as if his room was reflecting his state of mind, giving a physical form to his turmoil. Ivar sank down onto his chair, his head in his hands. He felt a familiar burn behind his eyes, the onset of a headache.

He took a deep, shaky breath, trying to steady himself. He was a mess. His plan was a mess. Everything was just... a mess.

“Maybe she’ll have forgiven me in a few days. I can’t lose her… not after all the money and time I’ve spent on her.” Just the thought of seeing her with another man made him want to smash his fist into the wall. With a sigh, Ivar dug out the contract from his pocket. He crumpled it up and tossed it into the fireplace. He looked at the mess around him and hated knowing that he had to spend the rest of the night cleaning up.