?Eine Seele… was bedeutet das?“, flüsterte Darek, v?llig ratlos.

  Iris atmete langsam aus, fasste sich und sagte: ?Darek, wenn ein Mensch, ein Tier, ein Wesen – was auch immer – geboren wird, entsteht mit dem K?rper, der sie tr?gt, auch eine Seele. Aber in diesem Fall …“ Er hielt inne, als ob sich der Begriff selbst der Sprache widersetzte. ?Es ist nur eine Seele. Eine k?rperlose Seele. Begreifst du überhaupt die Tragweite dieser Macht?!“

  Seraphis blickte zu Darek hinüber und l?chelte ihn einfach mit stiller Herzlichkeit an.

  ?Hm … was bedeutet das?“, murmelte Darek nachdenklich. ?Und was hat Sorus damit gemacht … Ich bin mir sicher, er hat das Land nicht allein mit alchemistischer Intuition erobert. Auch wenn das schon glaubwürdig genug w?re.“

  He looked straight at Seraphis. “Seraphis… what can I do with it?”

  The moment Iris heard that, he nearly dropped out of the air. Seraphis, on the other hand, looked back—and if he’d had shoulders, Darek figured he would have shrugged.

  “A soul… a bodiless soul…” Darek whispered. “Then we just give it a body and see what happens.”

  “ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?!” Iris shouted. “You don’t experiment with souls! You could endanger your soul, my soul, the bodiless soul—no, you could endanger time and space itself!”

  His voice shook. Then he forced it down. “You can’t just force a soul into something. It needs at least—and I mean at least—a leaning, an affinity. It has to be something that already carries a trace of soul… or has earned one. A child’s teddy bear, yes, that might work. But some abandoned stick on the sidewalk? Never. Do you understand? In short: it has to want to accept a soul.”

  Darek only smiled. “Ah… something comes to mind immediately.”

  Iris—on the verge of a breakdown—started muttering in despair. “If only I’d stayed in the Forgotten Dream… everyone here is insane.”

  “I already have an idea,” Darek went on. “I’ll just try it by feel. It’ll be fine. Probably.”

  Seraphis nodded eagerly and, as had become his habit, coiled around Darek’s neck.

  Iris, meanwhile, crouched in a corner of the Soul Mirror, his expression twisted, still muttering under his breath.

  But Darek focused, and deliberately stepped out of the Soul Mirror back into the real world.

  Darek found himself in his room again, on his bed. He sprang up, reached into his jacket, and pulled something out with bright anticipation: the compass.

  “Heh… this has to work,” he murmured, and carefully set the compass down on the blanket in front of him.

  He stretched out his arm—just like he had earlier with the ingredients—and aimed his open palm at the small, old instrument. Then he closed his eyes, reached deep inside himself for the soul Seraphis had created—and there it was.

  “Got you…”

  Carefully, he caught it in his thoughts and guided it out of his body. For a moment, not only the room but the entire house erupted in blinding white light. Then the soul slid into the compass.

  The object flared with a fierce light that pulsed and thrummed through the room, as if it were breathing. The rays danced like liquid fire, then slowly condensed into a steady, gripping glow that silenced everything around it.

  “Looks like it worked—YES!” Darek shouted, triumphant.

  Iris stared in disbelief. “Th… that can’t be… he actually did it. And we’re still alive…”

  The instant Darek touched the compass, a sensation shot through him and locked his body in place. It wasn’t only his own soul—there was more. A resonance. It felt so strong he could almost seize it with his bare hand.

  “Our souls… are connected. How is that possible?” he asked, fascinated.

  “It’s bound to your soul,” Iris said, voice grave. “It’s straightforward, really: your soul is Seraphis’ soul, and that soul created a new soul. So you’re already connected.”

  “Sounds… oddly logical,” Darek muttered.

  He focused, eyes fixed on the compass, and tried to draw it into his Soul Mirror—just as he’d done once with his pillow. The moment the compass touched his inner world, he felt a subtle but unmistakable shift.

  These must be the passive traits, he thought.

  His sense of direction realigned in a way that felt almost unnatural. Left and right lost their uncertainty, as if they’d suddenly become anchored. Every step, every movement felt sharper—cleaner, more certain—as though an invisible map had unfolded inside him. He could orient himself effortlessly in any situation.

  And that was only the beginning. With a bodiless soul inside it, the ability seemed to awaken instantly—he felt himself jump straight to stage two.

  A chill ran through him. He lifted his head. “So… it’s not just a soul object anymore. It’s…”

  “Congratulations,” Iris cut in, clearly impressed.

  “…a Soulbound,” Darek whispered, reverent.

  “Then let’s try using it actively again,” Darek said, energized.

  He gathered his thoughts and focused on the school’s sports field. Instantly, he felt a clean, unmistakable pull—like something inside him had locked onto a direction.

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  “The direction is right…” he murmured, stunned.

  In his mind, Lieutenant Carris’ voice echoed: “Most drawbacks exist because soul objects only serve as receivers, not as senders. The resonance suffers—and that’s where the faults come from.”

  Darek sucked in a breath. “But… now it has a real soul. A soul connected to mine. The resonance is stable. The drawbacks are… gone.”

  He let the realization settle. Then his face slowly split into a wide, disbelieving grin.

  “I can’t believe it… I can turn soul objects into Soulbounds. Make them mine. Strengthen myself passively. Use them actively—without drawbacks. The potential is… immeasurable.”

  He pressed a hand to his chest, felt the deep vibration of that linked soul, and let out a quiet laugh.

  “Well… I really am the main character…”

  “Alright. Enough for today.”

  He was still standing by his bed, still grinning.

  Today was truly productive. At this point I have the compass, Seraphis’ alchemy intuition, and his soul formation. My pillow can absorb damage, absorb statuses, and induce status changes, open dream gates, and has something to do with prophecies.

  All I’m missing is a strong offensive ability and real martial arts skill. My punches are so pathetic I could barely defend myself. At the very least, I should be able to protect myself properly.

  Otherwise, the range of abilities I have is genuinely worthy of a main character.

  Though main characters tend to get dragged into strange things—plots and intrigues—and honestly, I’m not eager for that.

  He frowned, and the rush of euphoria gave way to heavier thoughts.

  That prophecy about the Tyrant worries me, too.

  And then there’s the ASU. As first place, my spot there is guaranteed. The only question is whether joining helps them more—or benefits me.

  I don’t have anything against Aquilara, but national pride isn’t my thing. I still want an easy life, and I don’t want to be used and squeezed dry.

  Tomorrow I’ll go to the library and try to learn something about Sorus. My first prophecy showed me David’s fight, too. I don’t want something like that to happen again and for me to ignore it. Maybe things like that can even be prevented.

  And we’ve still got the weekend. Maybe I’ll finally manage to go to EagleEat. People are probably still lining up even now.

  Darek exhaled, let himself drop onto his bed, and closed his eyes.

  “Alright. First, I’m getting a solid night’s sleep. I’ve earned it.”

  The next day arrived in gentle light, and Darek opened his eyes on his own—without the shrill beeping of the alarm. It was the weekend; the silence and the sluggish morning glow made him not miss the alarm at all.

  I didn’t think I’d sleep this relaxed and this well. This would’ve been the perfect moment to ruin my sleep with a dream gate.

  I should look into that again, too. I should be able to open them on purpose if I really mean to.

  After breakfast and a few snacks for Seraphis, he headed straight to the library.

  It was still morning. The sun had only just risen over Solara’s mountain peaks, yet the streets were already lively—normal for the weekend.

  He got on his bike and rode toward Plaza Solara.

  Online I could hardly find anything—nothing groundbreaking, at least. Tyrants are a myth, used as props in children’s hero stories. I can’t rely on that.

  And on Sorus, there are only tales of his conquest of Serphira, plus some about his achievements and how Serphira was shaped by potion alchemy. According to records, he died peacefully of old age.

  Darek’s gaze hardened as he thought about it.

  After that Forgotten Dream, I doubt it. The dream feels more credible.

  If it’s true and I start digging into Sorus’ death, sooner or later I’ll draw the attention of that organization—if it even still exists.

  And if they managed to stage the death of a king, I’m nothing but a speck of dust to them.

  Mhh. But I can’t ignore the prophecy either. It was about the Tyrant, and even Sorus fought him in the dream. It’s all connected. And it could matter.

  Darek made a decision.

  I’ll only look into it superficially at first—like anyone else would. Slow and careful. The moment anything feels strange, the moment it gets risky, I stop.

  Exactly. I don’t want to end up as the main character.

  ???

  Darek reached his destination and parked his bike outside the library.

  Solara’s library couldn’t compare to the capital’s in size, but it was older than most buildings in the city.

  Aquilara’s library stood out in the area, yet it didn’t feel misplaced. If anything, the surrounding shops and apartments felt wrong beside it. The materials were similar, but the age of its design made it resemble old churches and cathedrals.

  I’m only noticing now how old it really is. I think I’ve only been here twice—and only with school.

  At least 350 years old. Sorus conquered Serphira around 600 years ago.

  Well. I still hope I find more than I did online.

  “What kind of ancient being is this library, Darek?” Iris asked, curious.

  “A being? No. It’s a place where we write down everything we know, categorize it, and collect it in one place.”

  “How primitive,” Iris said cheerfully. “We store all our knowledge in our souls and can pass it on collectively to all others of our kind whenever we want.”

  If he had arms, he would probably be folding them proudly right now.

  “Big words for ‘collectively,’ considering you haven’t even met anyone else of your kind,” Darek replied. “And we can do that online too. So it’s not exactly special.”

  Darek sensed Iris, in his Soul Mirror, dropping out of the sky in shock and slamming into the ground.

  Darek entered the library. It wasn’t very crowded. The few visitors were scattered across different sections. Only the cookbook and children’s book area was somewhat lively.

  He spent the first hour pulling together every book in the history section about Serphira and spreading them out on a table.

  Damn. Not as hopeless as I thought.

  Two books lay in front of him. One was The Conquest of Serphira. The other was Alchemy for Dummies.

  Another hour passed, and Darek was close to giving up.

  He lifted his head from the table, drained.

  “It can’t be that there are only these two useless books here.”

  He sighed and leaned his head back.

  Where am I supposed to find information on Sorus?

  Just as he was about to despair, something struck him like lightning. Darek jerked upright. Two people nearby shot him contemptuous looks, then turned away again.

  Would this work? No… or would it?

  He focused and gathered energy into his compass inside the Soul Mirror.

  “Information about Sorus, Serphira, Potifera.”

  Four red, illusory lines extended out from within him. Two pointed to the books in front of him. Two more led into nearby parts of the library.

  His eyes lit up, and his motivation surged.

  Unbelievable. I knew the drawback was gone. But even the requirement of having been there is gone. It doesn’t just apply to places—it applies to objects, too.

  That’s absurd.

  Darek couldn’t help laughing out loud, delighted and stunned.

  “Ha—haha. Incredible.”

  He noticed the stares from other visitors and cleared his throat quickly.

  “Sorry,” he said awkwardly, bowing slightly.

  The school sports field was at the edge of my range. Places and objects farther away seem harder. The book tied to locations was a bit harder for me, too.

  Distance, connection, and knowledge definitely affect the ability.

  Alright. Let’s see what these books are.

  The first book Darek examined was a geography volume that looked several hundred years old—thick with dust, worn by time. Beside it lay a thinner blue book, more like a notebook, giving the impression of an old but carefully preserved poetry collection.

  Ich w?re nie auf die Idee gekommen, in der Geographie und der Poesie zu suchen.

  ?Na sch?n“, sagte Darek, nun voller Tatendrang.

  Er wischte den Staub von dem Geographiebuch und ging direkt zum Inhaltsverzeichnis, um nach Symbions Karte von vor sechshundert Jahren zu suchen.

  Die Geographie selbst war weitgehend dieselbe. Zwei der heutigen acht L?nder von Symbion waren erst vor dreihundert Jahren gegründet worden und wurden daher nicht aufgezeichnet.

  Ansonsten…

  Darek betrachtete die Karte genauer – und dann sah er es.

  Sein Blick verweilte einen Moment zu lange auf den Zeilen, als ob etwas in ihm still aufgeh?rt h?tte zu atmen.

  Moment mal. Die Grenzen zwischen Serphira und Aquilara sind v?llig falsch. Dieses Gebirge geh?rt uns seit Anbeginn. Oder irre ich mich?

  Er bl?tterte noch weiter zurück und betrachtete die Karte von vor siebenhundert Jahren.

  Damals existierten nur fünf der heutigen acht L?nder.

  Und tats?chlich – die Bergkette geh?rte ihnen gar nicht.

  Seltsam. Stimmen diese Karten nicht?

  Nun ja. Das sollte nicht weiter schlimm sein. Der Rest passte ja zusammen. Aquilaras Wappen sah auch damals noch gleich aus. Hier ?nderte sich selten etwas.

  Dann verengten sich Dareks Augen, als etwas anderes seine Aufmerksamkeit erregte.

  Was ist das?

  Neben Potiferas Wappen befand sich ein weiteres: eine zweik?pfige Schlange.

  Ein kaltes Ziehen durchfuhr seine Brust, flüchtig, aber unverkennbar unerwünscht – als h?tte er etwas gesehen, das verborgen bleiben sollte.

  Seltsam. Geh?rt das Wappen seinem Bruder und diesem Familienzweig? Einer Organisation? Oder etwas ganz anderem? Gut. Raten bringt nichts. Ich sehe mir besser dieses blaue, unbetitelte Heftchen an.

  Darek ?ffnete es und runzelte die Stirn.

  Seltsam. Ich kann es lesen und die W?rter verstehen, aber es ergibt keinen Sinn. Ein wirres Durcheinander, als h?tte jemand krampfhaft versucht, Reime zu erzwingen. Es wird nicht einmal ein Name oder Autor genannt.

  Geh?rte das wirklich Sorus? Ich komme einfach nicht weiter…

  Da hatte Darek eine Idee.

  Wenn ich nichts über Sorus herausfinden kann, sollte ich vielleicht direkt nach etwas über die Tyrannen suchen.