Page 13 of Her Guardian Demon

I nod, my voice failing me. As we step back into the bustling streets, I clutch my new acquisition close, wondering what other prices I'll have to pay before this night is through.

8

KIERAN

Iwatch Aria's face as peruse the chaotic heart of Nightmarket, savoring her mix of fear, awe, and wonder. Her eyes dart from one impossible sight to another, widening with each new grand horror. It's... gratifying to see her experience this for the first time.

"Stay close," I murmur, placing a hand on the small of her back. I feel her shiver at my touch, fear and excitement warring within her. Good. That edge of fear will keep her alert. Nightmarket is no place for the complacent.

We weave through the crowded streets, past vendors hawking everything from bottled starlight to fermented emotions. Aria's head swivels constantly, trying to take it all in. I guide her deftly, avoiding the more dangerous areas... for now.

"Where are we going?" she asks, her voice barely audible over the market's cacophony.

I allow myself a small smile. "To treat you, my dear Aria. You've earned it."

As we step into The Crimson Grimoire, the air grows thick with the scent of old parchment and something metallic - blood, perhaps, or something far more esoteric. The proprietor, a beingof living shadow and flame called Umbra, nods respectfully as we enter. Their form flickers and shifts, never quite settling on a definite shape.

"Lord Kieran," Umbra's voice crackles like a dying fire. "And a new acolyte, I see. How... intriguing."

I feel Aria stiffen beside me, no doubt unnerved by Umbra's otherworldly presence. "Feel free to browse," I tell her, my hand resting lightly on her lower back. "But be careful what you touch. Some of these tomes have a mind of their own."

We move deeper into the shop, past shelves that seem to stretch into infinity. The books here are unlike any Aria has seen before. Some are bound in materials that pulse with an inner life, others whisper dark secrets as we pass.

"The Crimson Grimoire specializes in the darkest and most potent magics of the Winter Court," I explain, watching Aria's reactions closely. "Here, you'll find knowledge that most mortals - and even many fae - would kill for."

Aria's eyes widen as she takes in the titles. "'Frost-Bound Hearts: A Compendium of Emotional Manipulation'," she reads aloud. "' The Midnight Sun's Shadow: Bending Light and Darkness'... These are real?"

I smile, pleased by her curiosity. "Very real, and very dangerous in the wrong hands. Or the right ones, depending on your perspective."

We pause at a section dedicated to what appears to be necromancy, but far beyond anything taught at Ravencrest.

"'Whispers of the Eternal Frost'," I say, pulling down a tome bound in what looks like translucent ice. "A fascinating study on communicating with spirits trapped in the great glaciers of the Winterlands. Some have been frozen there for millennia, their knowledge... unique."

Aria reaches out, then hesitates. "May I?"

I nod, and she takes the book, her fingers tracing the intricate frost patterns on its cover. As she opens it, a chill mist spills out, carrying with it the faintest sound of distant, agonized wailing.

We move on, passing by "Shadows of the Nevermore," a set of scrolls that detail the art of weaving nightmares into physical form, and "The Hollowed King's Lament," a treatise on the creation and use of soul-devouring weapons.

Aria pauses at a particularly ancient volume, its cover writhing with eldritch symbols that seem to squirm away from direct observation.

"The Codex of Eternal Shadows," I say, coming up behind her. "It's said to contain spells that can unmake reality itself. Tempting, isn't it?"

Aria's hand hovers over the book, trembling slightly. "What would happen if I opened it?" she asks, her voice a whisper.

I lean in close, my lips nearly brushing her ear. "Why don't you find out?"

For a moment, I think she might do it. I see the hunger in her eyes, the desire for knowledge and power warring with her lingering morality. Then, with visible effort, she pulls her hand back.

"Maybe... maybe another time," she says, her voice shaky.

I hide my smile. Disappointing, perhaps, but telling. She's not ready to abandon all her principles... yet.

We continue our browsing. I guide her towards "Veins of the Earth," a grimoire that teaches the art of blood manipulation and earth-shaping, allowing the caster to create labyrinths of living stone. Next, we examine "The Songbird's Lament," a deceptively small book that contains the secrets of weaponizing one's voice, turning words into deadly spells.

"This," I say, gesturing to a shimmering text that seems to fade in and out of existence, "is 'Echoes of Neverwhen.' It dealswith temporal manipulation - not just seeing the future or past, but weaving alternate timelines into our reality."

Aria's eyes light up. "Could someone... change the past with this?"

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