Hours later, the experiment in the labs proved successful.
Thanks to the additional notes that Barlowe and the since-deceased Ecclesian researchers had made from Albus's previous groundwork that he had left behind, he could make further headway into how to go about absorbing and using glyphs on his own. The hard part was not being consumed or harmed by the glyphs and their powers, which was why he needed a channeling rune.
There had been a few bits of information that he had gleaned from the Master's office - information that he had not been privy to, but most of it simply pointed to that someone with inherent magical aptitude was the best candidate to channel glyph magic throughout their bodies. The groundwork research coupled with Albus's results from the transfusion he made from the blood samples from the villagers and Shanoa, proved useful in the end, as the scholar was finally able to imbue himself with a channeling rune on his body to harbor Dominus Agony.
Had he been alone, he would have had to graft the sizable conduit to his chest, but with a second pair of hands, carefully instructed, he was able to have the form conjured and transferred to his back. The shape of the rune was similar to Shanoa's, but instead of the glyph-encompassing design looking like feathered wings, they looked more like bat wings. It was not his first choice, but with how often he would be able to get a good look at his own back, it would not matter much in the long run. That and keeping runes out in the open was purely a cosmetic matter - metaphorically, he would not have to deal with people questioning why all his would-be future outfits were nearly backless.
But never in a million years would he go to the lengths that Shanoa did to show off her channeling runes. It was personal preference, and for reasons only known to him, Albus was quite modest. Even to the point that he insisted on keeping his undershirt on while imbuing the rune on his back - which complicated the procedure much more than necessary, but he had insisted it was the principle of the matter.
With Albus's channeling rune finally in place, Shanoa managed to release Dominus Agony from her possession, and she exchanged it for the piece that he had imbued into Agartha.
Natural apprehension undermined Albus's quiet glee at finally being able to bear a glyph with his physical form, as they were skipping the basics and jumping right into hard mode. Taking in a sharp breath, Albus glanced at his partner questioningly, and after receiving a similar look and a nod, he absorbed the glyph through his new rune. His method, or pose, while absorbing it was not as eloquent as Shanoa's, but it got the job done. With great relief, he immediately noticed that there was little fuss from the glyph as its power safely contained itself within him, and all residual effects remained barred by the rune's abilities. There were no whispers or darkness overtaking his mind, and the only feelings he felt were mixed, as part of his life-long mission was complete.
The whole process left Albus drained and exhausted, and after throwing his shirt and vest back on, he directed Shanoa towards the dormitories, as he wished to rest for a while before further preparing for their final mission.
After staggering up three flights of stairs, Albus was thankful to see that his old quarters had been relatively left alone in his absence. There was evidence of someone having rifled through his desk, but that was all he could tell at the moment. He did not much care for anything else once his eyes locked on to his old four-post bed.
He face-planted into his pillow, exclaiming how he missed the entirety of the furniture so much. "Ah, my dear sweet, comfortable, reliable bed. -I am quite tempted to take it with me back to Wygol when we return. I'll strap it to my back if I have to!"
Shanoa shook her head and smiled faintly as she sat on the far edge of the bed. At least he was not so far gone as to not be able to make light of a situation.
Rolling over on to his back, Albus looked around at his room and considered his surroundings for a moment. "When we finish with our mission, and if we're still alive, we will repurpose Ecclesia. If only so I won't be separated from my heavenly bed."
"It is a nice-looking piece." She admitted, running a hand over one of the carved mahogany posts. "I assume mine isn't as nice?"
"Not nearly. You never really liked frivolous things."
"Sounds about right," Shanoa nodded faintly and her voice trailed off as her eye was drawn to the seating area by the picture windows. The lowered area boasted a comfy chaise lounge, poised before a convex wall of picture windows that faced westward - perfect for watching the sunset. Since the room was several floors up, the scenery was marvelous - spans of forest, the small nearby river, and the occasional spec in the distance that indicated a cottage or small village. And the spires of Dracula's castle, but that too was somewhat majestic in its own dark way.
Everything in Albus's quarters had a sense of grand yet masculine elegance to it, none of it seemed out of place for the type of person he was. Though as she drew closer to the windows, she found herself whispering aloud, 'I know this' right before a memory overtook her. But unlike her Dominus-granted memories, this one came to her in first person...
Whenever Shanoa visited Albus's room she normally headed directly for the couch in the seating area. Other times she would stand at the window, pressed against glass to better gaze out at the landscape. Yet on that day she had opted to sit, seeming a bit 'off' in mood, seating herself on the far left side of the fine couch and leaning against the armrest to prop her head up with a closed hand. With a sigh she stared at the sun setting past the horizon.
Perplexed by her uncharacteristic melancholy, Albus joined her, deciding it would be amusing to flop down in a lazy, space-hogging manner. With the back of his head resting on her lap, the rest of him took up the remaining room that the chaise had to offer. Being a tall gent, he looked a bit silly with his legs dangling over the opposite arm rest.
Shanoa's train of thought was broken as her personal space was invaded. Not unwanted in the slightest, it was more surprising than anything. Of course, she couldn't help but smirk in response to the goofy grin he gave her. Damn it all.
"What's going on in that head of yours?" He asked quietly, expression becoming a bit more serious.
She sighed and glanced down at him, reflecting a moment on the matter that weighed on her mind. Also under consideration was something that he had told her before - that if she ever wanted something, then she should ask for it. The worst that could happen was that she would be denied and that fact in itself ought not be considered the end of the world. Though, he had never specified a context. Or a meaning behind it either, aside from that she should not fear anything. He had been her number one cheerleader in the self-esteem department since they were little, but his advice was often terrible or cryptic.
"I... have this question that needs answering, but... I don't know if it's appropriate to ask it in the first place." Her pauses felt so out of character to her, as normally she found it easy to talk to her long time companion. "So... that is my dilemma."
Albus thought on her words a moment, one of his hands coming up to his chin to accentuate his 'thinking' expression. His head tilted a little, becoming a bit more parallel with her right knee. "Run it by me first?" He offered, with a twinkle of mischief in his eye. " I won't judge you too harshly."
Expression flattening, she leaned forward and lightly pressed her lips against his. Her hair fell around them, artistically curtaining around them in the moment. Just as suddenly she sat up straight again, looking away as she had no idea what to expect from him as a reaction.
"There's my question."
The return expression from Albus was somewhere between forced-calm and slightly embarrassed. "That answers one of mine, then."
Shanoa blinked visibly as she looked back down at him, admittedly quite curious by his statement. But there was no need for words as he looked up at her, giving her a mixed look of joy and relief.
As the memory faded, the present-day Shanoa could feel herself try to tear up. The implications of the memory, and the confirmation of her suspicions, hit her rather hard. If they actually had once been more than just combat partners, then... all that Albus had been through, for her sake, just doubled in how much plausible inner turmoil he had kept from her.
Having since gotten back on his feet, Albus noticed that Shanoa seemed lost in thought at the windows. To him it was an echo of her old self, which tugged at his heart. He called her by name quietly, only causing a slight reaction from her. She voiced a quiet 'hmm?', barely averting her gaze from the sunset on the horizon.
Lost in thought, Shanoa felt conflicted, unsure how to go about what the memory implied, and how it had just complicated their entire situation. Or perhaps it was just a fleeting memory, and nothing really had become of it afterward -or things had gone south and they had never quite been the same?
At any rate, if any of that that were true, then why did she feel as if her heart were being squeezed? The sensation was, of course, alien to her - for she had only ever felt calm around her combat partner. No fear, no concern, nothing that she felt was out of the ordinary. But now she felt on edge, and for whatever reason her cheeks were starting to feel a bit warm. Peering at her faded reflection in the glass before her, she noticed a light pink on her face, a lot like how Miss Monica's face tended to flush whenever the girl got flustered. Shanoa then gave her own reflection a flat look. ... Flustered? Why on earth would she suddenly be flustered by someone she trusted completely?
"Shanoa?" Albus's voice was right behind her, just as quiet as before - but she had not expected his sudden proximity, nor his hand gently pressing on her shoulder.
Before she could stop herself, she flinched away rather uncharacteristically, prompting him to lean away a bit, his hands coming up rather defensively. He did not ask what was wrong, he did not need to, as his expression wordlessly communicated his concern. And just as wordlessly, she returned to him an expression that spoke of an apology, her shoulders sagging a bit when she realized how she had reacted.
"...I'm fading fast." He murmured, rubbing at his heavy eyelids. "Wake me up in an hour?"
"Sure."
"Your room is at the far end of the hall in the women's half of the building." He said over a shoulder while returning to flop down on his bed. "It should still have your nameplate on it."
"Thank you. I'll be back shortly to check on you."
"Great..." And with that he was out cold.
Before she left his room, Shanoa watched his sleeping form for a moment, tempted to brush the fringe of his hair out of his eyes, but stopped herself and quietly exited the room. Heading down the hall, she searched for her old room and found it, leaving the door open after she stepped inside.
Unsure what to do, she stood in the middle of her old room, which was humble and small compared to Albus's expansive quarters, and just looked at the neat and plain little bed, the regular desk, and the minimal items that rested here and there on said desk and on the end table by the bed. She did look through her old dresser, finding garments that were a bit frilly for her current tastes, and other clothes that she debated stuffing into her inventory.
A chest at the foot of her bed occupied the better part of her time as she rifled through it to find old swords and weapons that she presumably had trained with and had perhaps taken as trophies from past missions.
A knock sounded at her open door and she quickly turned to look behind her, giving a breath of relief to see that it was Albus. Oh, she must have taken longer than she had intended. Before she could apologize, he just gave her a smile and asked if any of her old things jogged her memories at all.
"These... things... mean nothing to me now. So there's no point." She paused, hand to her chin and her jaw set in a pose of thought. "Unless I had a journal?"
"As far as I know, you didn't." Albus plunked himself down on her bed and leaned against the wall. "Did you try the desk?"
Moving from the chest to the desk, Shanoa rooted around in the drawers until she came across a small journal that was cryptic and written in shorthand. She flipped through it quickly, looking at some of the later entries. Noting one from that said 'Discussion with Albus went much better than I thought' and another one that read 'concerned about the rune grafting tomorrow. Should converse with Albus on the matter.'
"Hey. This one entry," She turned and showed him the entry regarding conversing with him and pointed to the date. "Did we... converse?"
Her partner thought about his answer for a bit before speaking up. "Yes. You tried not to show it, but you were quite worried that you would be another victim of progress, as it were. Barlowe had a lot of casualties and crippling injuries trying to place the containment runes on others. But you... were special."
With a pause, Shanoa looked at him suspiciously as he iterated that she had been special. Was that embitterment he was showing? Even now? Sighing, she put a hand to her forehead. "Good to hear that I tried to be stoic, and I'm glad you were there to help. Thank you."
Albus failed to fight back a smile that wormed its way on to his face as he made his way to the door. "...Oh, you're quite welcome."
Glancing over, Shanoa wondered if now would be a good time to talk to him about the most recent memory flash, but her resolve failed her by the time she had crossed the room to stand in his personal space.
"Albus, I..." She looked up at him expectantly, although she was the one with the query. Her following awkward silence was met with a patient calm from her partner, even when she reached to fiddle with the braided strap on the bandolier across his chest. "You'll... always be my number one supporter, right?"
He quirked a brow, and a smile tugged at one corner of his mouth as he wondered where her question had come from so suddenly. "Of course." He replied, giving a slight nod in emphasis. "At least until the day you decide to take a suitor. Then I might concede the title." They shared a quiet laugh and he gave Shanoa a pat on one shoulder. "Though I'd still remain in your fan club - maybe as president. What do you think?"
"Suits me just fine." She nodded, eyes downcast but a smile was visible. "If I can remain president of the chief researcher fan club."
"Well, that isn't very reassuring." Albus mock-grumbled, hands returning to his sides and forming into fists that rested against his waist in a mock 'none too pleased' stance. "That just sounds like it doesn't matter who is in that position."
"Of course." The warrior mirrored one of his smirks and folded her arms lightly. "It's boring if it's always the same person. Next week, it could be Carlos, or Enrique." She had teasingly put a little emphasis on the second name as if to imply a more foreign name was somewhat attractive to her.
Another laugh and a muttered 'cute' before Albus excused himself so that Shanoa could continue to sort through her old room in peace, leaving her with the reassurance that he would be down the hall and in his old quarters if she needed anything. If not, he would see her in the morning.
Shanoa jokingly argued that she was not sleeping in her creepy old room, and that his bed was large enough for two, so she would be taking up residence with him for the night. With a laugh as he left her room, Albus retorted that she was welcome to sleep on his couch but there was no way he was sharing his lovely bed with a shameless space hog like her.
Alone again in her room, Shanoa slumped down on her bed and lay across it diagonally. So, had they been more than just childhood friends and combat partners? It was not that implication that bothered her, it was that her impossibly hard-headed, stubborn, prideful and very-likely-hurting-immensely-internally plausible 'romantic interest' had kept the information to himself for a couple months since the ritual incident. So many pieces fell into place, his over-protectiveness, his hesitation on certain matters, lack of surprise in others, and... his unshakable commitment to her.
Though all of that; was just how he was. So, perhaps, nothing had transpired and they had remained as close friends after all. Each scenario was all well and fine to Shanoa - she considered Albus family regardless of platonic or romantic implications and facts. But it was her current not-knowing which it was that made things so much more complicated.
Grabbing her old pillow, she pressed it over her face and let out a loud sigh into it, and whispered 'what do I do now?' into it, afterward muttering that she could fight monsters three times her size without hesitation and fear, but asking her last remaining ally about how he actually felt about her seemed like it might end the world.