"Maybe I wasn't clear enough, or do I need to explain it again?" Merlock's faint smile hardly concealed the frustration behind his eyes. He could see Aaron's ignorance, his confusion, and it filled him with pity—like a father watching his son fail time and again. Merlock knew what the future held, and it wasn't pretty.
Aaron, on the other hand, seemed like he'd just woken up from a long hibernation. His mind was sluggish, struggling to comprehend the gravity of the situation. The world around him felt different—like someone had drained the color from it. It was as if the snow had turned to ash and the rainbow had lost its hues.
He stood, wiping away his tears as if they had never been there, leaving no trace behind. "What do you mean, someone can die from drinking beer? Are you a doctor or something?" he asked, his voice a mix of confusion and laughter, like Merlock was telling a joke.
Merlock sighed, looking directly into Aaron's eyes. "It seems I have to spell it out for you. I'm the first natural spirit to ever walk this planet, which means I've been around since mana and magic were first discovered. Because of that, I'm familiar with your kind... and I've formed a contract with you. In simple terms, I'm your guide, an extension of your soul. I have access to your memories, and I can glimpse a vague image of your future. And what I see... well, are you ready to hear it?"
Aaron's gaze faltered for a moment, but he quickly composed himself. "I'm ready. But just so you know, I'll decide later if I believe you or not."
Merlock raised an eyebrow. "You will believe me. I'll make sure of it. On your 18th birthday, your father's debt will be so massive that he'll be killed. You'll be drinking beer, and by the end of it... 400 glasses will be the end of you. Your mother will die from depression when she sees you like that. Your brother, who's in the capital, will be forced into slavery by the dukes because your father's debts won't be settled."
Aaron scoffed, crossing his arms. "Yeah, right. You expect me to believe that? I came here thinking you were some all-knowing spirit, and this is what you tell me?" He was almost laughing now, but there was an edge to his voice.
Merlock's eyes narrowed with an unwavering confidence. "I knew you would say that. But you need to see it for yourself."
Without warning, Merlock placed a finger on Aaron's forehead. A jolt of energy passed through him, and suddenly, Aaron was trapped in a vision. It wasn't a dream—it was his own memories, playing on an endless loop. He saw himself drinking 400 glasses of beer, one after another, until his face collapsed onto the table. It wasn't just a quick flash. No, this scene replayed over and over again—400 times. It stretched on for what felt like hours, yet in reality, it lasted only a fraction of a second.
When Aaron snapped back to reality, his breathing was heavy, his heart pounding. "What was that? Some illusion magic?" His voice trembled, fear creeping in for the first time.
Merlock stood, unaffected by Aaron's shock. "No, baka. That was your death on repeat!"
Aaron's eyes widened in horror. He shook his head, trying to dispel the lingering image of his own death. "But I can't just stop drinking beer... It's everything to me!"
Merlock's gaze was unwavering, his voice cold. "Every time you say that word, you'll see that same vision again. Understand?"
Aaron's mouth went dry. "When did I give you permission to invade my mind like that?"
"You freed me when you opened that box. Now, I have access to your thoughts, your power, your future." Merlock's voice was calm, as though explaining the most obvious thing in the world.
"You mean... you can give me power?" Aaron asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Yes," Merlock replied. "My knowledge comes from the first spells ever created. I can make you stronger—strong enough to save your family. But first, you must swear something to me."
Aaron's eyes narrowed. "What's that?"
"You must promise me that you'll never drink beer again."
Aaron's face hardened, his lips curling into a tight smile. "Why are you saying that word? You know what it does to me."
Merlock sighed softly. "That dream really hit you hard, didn't it?"
Aaron clenched his fists, shaking his head in defiance. "What did you just say?"
"Nothing," Merlock replied quickly, looking away.