When Aevah left, Kyrtaar sat with his back against a tree watching the sprites fluttering about in random patterns. He saw some touch, and some floating on the water. His eyes flicked back and forth, tracking their movements. He wondered what they thought of him, although it made no matter. If they thought of him the way Aevah had thought of the stars before Kyrtaar's revelation of sentience. Maybe they saw him and were afraid, maybe they saw him and were in awe. Maybe they didn't register him at all. 

Kyrtaar sat peacefully meditating on what had been and what he had done previously, waiting for Aevah. Even though the sunlight felt too direct, too warm for where they were, Kyrtaar was starting to feel comfortable. He had power, and no fear of the stars boring into his mind. Kyrtaar heard his name. Aevah had made it to the surface without a sound. He stood up, and walked over to her. Dry blood was scabbing on her face from the tears that ran from her eyes. When she blinked Kyrtaar saw her milky white eyes. "Come here." He said. He tore a strip off the bottom of his already tattered cloak, and tore it again to make two pieces. 

Kyrtaar took his canteen, and removed the lid, and poured a bit of water on the first strip, and stepped towards Aevah. "Let me help you." He said, reaching forward, and dabbing at her face to get the blood off. "You're a bit bloody." He said. From the skin contact, Aevah would not feel fear, or the sun burrowing in her mind. She would not see a black hole devouring the galaxy, or hear the sounds of asteroids colliding into each other over and over and over and over again, an awful clash of the giants with no rhyme or reason that drove all rhyme or reason from your mind. Aevah would feel warmth. She would feel Kyrtaar's sun warming the skin, the first time he felt power, the first time he felt his gift. Before the stars became malignant tumors in the sky. She would feel Kyrtaar's genuine affection for the Half-Elf girl, someone he considered a friend. A rare shred of positive energy being exuded from Kyrtaar, a shining light in the black of night.

When he was done with helping her clean, he took the second stripe, and helped tie it around her eyes, and then would help Aevah put her necklace back on. If at any time, Aevah wanted him to stop, he would take no offense to the actions, and would cease until asked for help. When Aevah was situated, Kyrtaar spoke. "I think I'm going to speak with the norn." He said, wishing to see her for himself. Kyrtaar removed his sword, placing it against a tree before proceeding into the dark hole to the norn lair. He descended into the dark hole, always keeping a hand on the wall to give him a perception of the depth he was going to. 

Kyrtaar was beginning to wonder if he would ever reach the bottom when he abruptly walked into a door. He reached out, and grabbed the handle, and pushed it open. Inside was a young woman, no older than 18. She was performing scrimshaw on a human skull. She looked up at Kyrtaar. "Yes?" she asked. "What can I do for you, Elf?" She finished. Her voice was neither male or female, it was an androgynous mix of genders. Kyrtaar looked at her for a moment, deciding it was best no to dwell on her appearance. "I wish for more power. I wish for Immortality" 

The young woman's eye brow raised. "My, such an ambitious wish. Very well. I can grant this wish, but the price will be steep. First, the pact will be made on your flesh, and it will be excruciating. Second, I will take the joy from your life. Third, your firstborn belongs to me. Do we have a deal?" Kyrtaar looked at the woman for a moment. He had pledged his soul to the stars, and was now about to pledge something that wasn't his to give, to rescind on his end of the bargain. A great trickery, an awful cowardly act to escape from his side of the promise. "I accept."

Kyrtaar's flesh began to burn. He dropped to a knee, in an agonizing yell. He bit down hard, and clenched his eyes shut, tears rolling down his cheeks. On his arms, and chest, legs, and abs, marks began to appear. Circles and strange markings seared into his skin, as magical tattoos were branded onto his body. The tattoos were slowly spreading up and down his body to slowly create a mixed patch work of skin and green magical ink. Suddenly the pain stopped, and his hands were shaking as he expected more pain. He looked at his hands and arms to see the network of runes that ran up his body. He looked up at the norn. "Next, you will drink the water from outside, then the deal will be complete. And remember, Kyrtaar. You must bring me your firstborn, or all you have will crumble to ash." She said. Kyrtaar blinked, and he was outside. 

He quickly walked over to the pool, and dropped to his knees. He leaned forward, looking at his reflection. The strange runes were on his neck, chin, and ran up his cheeks. He would be willing to bet that his entire body had the contract written in green. He looked down, and saw his book was still on his hip. The deal with the stars still stood. But he had to finish this deal. Kyrtaar cupped his hands, and dipped them in the pool, and brought the cool, refreshing water to his lips, drinking it in.

Kyrtaar would never forget the pain. It was like he had drank molten lead. The water burned his throat, causing him to reach up, clutching it. It scaled his insides, and leaked out his nose. Within seconds the pain was gone, but with it, were his senses of smell, and taste. Additionally, he could not see colors. He saw drab black and whites and shades of grey. Kyrtaar stood up slowly, shaking again, trying to force the experience from his mind. The norn had not meant his literal joy, but had taken from him a way to enjoy food, drink. Kyrtaar didn't know it yet, but every time he would hear music, he would hear instruments out of tune, breaking. 

But these were small prices to pay for power, an enticing idea Kyrtaar would always be chasing. He turned to Aevah, and walked towards her. His voice was hoarse from the ordeal. "Are you ready?" He asked. His multicolored aura would likely now be heavily influenced by the fae, likely more vibrant, with the shadows of the cosmos ever clinging to his sides.