“Well, the abridged version… I guess it started when I politely turned down a succubus’s request for my soul…” Ori began, outlining the chain of events that led to his capture and eventual escape. It took ten minutes to describe what might have been several aeons, except he skipped most of what happened within the trials, only saying that being made a summons was somehow part of the process. When he finished, the grilling began.

  “…And you claim you were originally from a realm on the material plane?”

  “That, or it’s outside of Fate, yeah,” Ori answered.

  “And you killed several Awakened demons to escape?” another scoffed.

  “Yeah. I had help. Magic items, and a lot of luck.”

  “And you’re still inside the prison? Or did you escape?”

  “He did leave that part rather vague, didn’t he?”

  Ori shrugged. “I’d rather not say.”

  “I’d say it’s rather—”

  “Leave it, Fitz.” Elray lifted a hand, tempering the room.

  Fitzgerald’s face tightened. “Very well. Capabilities, then.” He gave Ori a once-over. “You’re clearly not a physical warrior—”

  “—Can you resist demonic magic?”

  “These ‘magic items’. Are they still in your possession?”

  Ori shook his head, overwhelmed by the flood of questions.

  Lady Lavine coughed. “It appears this chance to ask follow-up questions has turned into an inquisition. While frustrating, Sir Ori is entitled to his privacy, and we’ve heard more than enough to form a clear picture of his origins and his situation.”

  “Perhaps,” Fitzgerald continued, “to be summoned here…”

  “Where’s here, by the way?” Ori asked, curiosity getting the better of him. “I mean, I know you belong to the Astoria council?”

  “Aerilis,” Lady Lavine answered. “This realm is Aerilis, and we currently reside within the realm’s capital, Astor.”

  “This realm lies upon the boundary between the Celestial and Elemental demiplanes, and has a storied history with the divine,” Elray added. “For you, a being of the material plane, to be here… with no direct bridge to the material demiplane, it’s been years since we’ve met one from there, as far as I’m aware—”

  “I have an important question relevant to our goals, if I may?” Fitzgerald asked. His gaze sought assent from the others before settling on Ori. “This sprite, the deal you made, the one for your familiar bond… You believe that is the reason you cannot awaken until after your trial?”

  “Not until she evolves first, I think that was the agreement. Until then, all my Peritia goes to her,” Ori answered.

  “If confirmed, I suppose that rules out one potential avenue, as distasteful as some variations of that plan might have been,” Elray griped.

  “Wouldn’t have worked. Peritia gained from summons always goes to the summoner, even in death… unless you’re part of the guild,” Fitzgerald countered.

  Ori cursed internally.

  “Why do you think you are here, Ori? What were you searching for when the summoning brought you here?” Lavine asked.

  Both the summoner and the summoned must seek something from the other.

  Ori replayed the giant’s words, judging that Lavine’s question carried more weight than the usual probing into his circumstances. He thought back to his mood as he gazed at the blue sky from the ruins of the giant’s dojo. He’d expected to return to the Lifewell fountain, to check in with the Crucible after that encounter. He’d sought strength in the first trial, especially after Freya warned him not to put all his eggs in a magical basket he couldn’t use yet. But when he’d found strength, or at least the example of pure physical strength he’d imagined, he’d found it lacking.

  It had been his fault, he’d realised, staring up at the sky. Strength, in all its forms, physical or esoteric, power or resilience, was only a tool to get what he wanted. And just before the trial ended, he’d imagined being free to explore the lands beneath those blue skies.

  “Freedom,” Ori said, after a pause long enough to turn uncomfortable. “Freedom to walk away from unfavourable situations, or not. Freedom to be a hero, or not. Freedom to care about the fate of others, or to pursue my own happiness, whether that means pushing myself to be stronger or smarter, or discovering knowledge, or just… being. I’ve got a chance of helping you lot out. I like that I have that possibility, as well as the possibility to walk away.”

  A long silence followed as they absorbed his words, until the dining hall door opened.

  The manservant, Darkon, entered carrying several scrolls, followed by another man, far more austere in appearance and aura.

  “Arch Diviner Kenna, my lady. And the scrolls,” Darkon announced.

  “Thank you, Darkon. Leave us, and ensure we are not disrupted,” Lady Lavine said, dismissing him after he placed the scrolls on the table, now cleared of plates and utensils. The diviner was tall and thin, perhaps as old as Lavine herself. Hooded grey eyes set in a narrow face swept the room before settling on Ori.

  “Thank you for joining us at such short notice, Arch Diviner Kenna.”

  “Truth be told, I’ve been expecting such a… summons,” the diviner said with the ghost of a smile, which Ori couldn’t help but snort at internally in return.

  “Indeed. I suspect word of our… successful summoning has spread throughout Astoria by now. I expect Darkon has informed you of the particulars?” Lavine asked.

  “Neither condition will be a problem. As you can imagine, many of my clients take confidentiality seriously. As for the format, this isn’t unusual. I take pride in presenting the divination as if it were a sheet from the Library of Fate itself.”

  After signing oath scrolls that seemed to pulse with a power Ori couldn’t place, he was told to stand before the diviner, Kenna’s hand settling against his back. And then a surge of foreign magic rose and fell.

  Ori blinked, and instead of the hall, he found himself staring at an honest-to-god character sheet from a video game.

  Silence followed. And then a chorus of gasps and curses rang around the dining table, as Ori tried to make sense of the words and numbers he was seeing for the first time. For example, what the hell was Domain, and why did it exceed the diviner’s rank? And what did these characteristics even mean?

  “This makes no sense…” the diviner muttered.

  “What in the Seraphim is a Du?list?”

  “Astral Adept?”

  “Four-fold unification!?”

  “Unknown to the Library of Fate!?”

  “Two inherent affinities!? And one is Transcendent and already at immersion!?”

  “Look at his Peritia. It’s over nineteen thousand, almost twenty times the average needed for awakening!”

  “…in Seraph’s name? …A mortal with unified characteristics!”

  “…Never even heard of a mortal with a Domain before!”

  “Diviner, those characteristics… Is his Will two-fold or four? Quickly, man, this is uncharted ground for our—”

  “Lord Suba,” Fitzgerald said, turning towards him, his voice careful, “to be yet mortal, while having a Domain… are you certain neither of your parents have… divine origins?”

  “Er, what?” Ori said, pulled from his thoughts as he stared at his ‘character sheet’ for the same time. Looking around, he found a mixture of expressions: disbelief and confusion, giddy awe, and, undercutting it all, trepidation as they were suddenly in the presence of someone or something, far out of their scope of understanding.

  “Were your parents gods?”

  “What? No. My mother died in childbirth, and my father is just a man,” Ori said. “I take it some of this isn’t normal.”

  “All of it isn’t normal,” Elray said, circling the table with a bewildered expression, his face pale and his brow slick with sweat. “I don’t even know where to start.”

  “You can start by acknowledging that his accolades match the story of his origins, even if it seems some of the events he relayed were… severely underplayed,” Lady Lavine said, casting Ori a pointed look before sweeping her silver-eyed gaze across the room. “Tell me, lad, and this is of supreme importance: do you know, or suspect, what your transcendent inherent affinity is? Or what it might relate to?”

  “It’s something to do with light,” Ori said. “If I had to guess at something specific? Maybe the light beyond the final light of stars.”

  Lady Lavine went still for several seconds, her expression fixed, before it softened as she took a long exhale. For a moment, Ori thought he’d said something wrong, until the silence broke with a soft chuckle.

  “The final light of stars? I can scarcely fathom,” she whispered. She looked up, eyes bright with renewed purpose. “It seems our path is clear. Perhaps it’s the hardest of all possible paths, but one we planned for nonetheless. Our summons has a transcendent inherent affinity, along with the Will, nay, the Domain to use it. You may have questions, but time is of the essence. Any day now, Eltitus and his horde could be at Astoria’s walls.”

  She straightened. “You all know your roles to play, and a reminder: keep what you’ve learned here to yourselves. My daughter granted us a gift. Let us not squander it.” Her gaze pinned each participant in turn before returning to Ori. “I dare say that if you ever come into your power, the civilised realms across Fate will tremble. You were right to bind us in oaths. Perhaps you should take even greater precautions in future, lad. Regardless, come with me. We have a great deal to do in very little time.”

  “So the plan is… I form a ‘soul bond’ with a wand? And that will somehow let me, and others near me, resist Lifeforce drain? How’s this even going to work? I don’t know how to cast spells. I don’t think I even have any Mana—” Ori asked.

  He was in a private drawing room, seated at a desk opposite Lady Lavine, who had taken it upon herself to outline the next steps.

  “This wand is an artefact of power,” Lady Lavine said, placing special emphasis on the term. “We believe it to be of elven origin, despite its celestial nature. It is recognised by the Library of Fates as an Unnamed Immortal-rank Channelling Wand of Aura, and it is one of Astoria’s precious few national treasures for two reasons. First: when soul-bound, its wielder becomes a pseudo-immortal being, regardless of rank or age, with the potential to live forever with an abundance of Lifeforce. Second: its wielder can passively project an aura that requires no Mana or spellcraft. This will grant not only you, but any others in your vicinity, immunity to Lifeforce corruption effects, we believe.”

  “Then…” Ori leaned forward. “Why me?”

  “With the requirements to soul-bond this item being, first, a celestial affinity; second, a high enough Will; and most significantly, the unification of Presence and Spirit into Aura, we were unsure whether anyone who met these characteristics would even need this item, should we have been fortunate enough to summon them.” Lavine sighed. “However, the destinies the Seraphim set challenge us as readily as they reward. Despite only being mortal, you satisfy every one of those requirements. Combined with your personal desires, we believe that is why the ritual summoned you.”

  “So how come it hasn’t been used already? Like, by the person who made it?”

  “As I understand it, it was crafted by a high-elven enchanter, likely someone without the affinities to bind it. Perhaps such an item was a trinket, a training aid or demonstration piece, or intended for sale. Either way, it was bought at auction, and no one of standing has ever had both the right characteristics and a great enough need to attempt to bind it.” She paused. “You must understand that Astoria, and by extension the nation of Astor, is a somewhat ignored, resource-deprived backwater compared to the High-Elven quarters of this realm in Althea, let alone the rest of the demiplane. Few who reach Sovereign rank remain loyal to the political system here, one that grinds all but the most steadfast under its heel. And even fewer progress to ranks beyond, and out of those who can, none stay.”

  “Why?”

  “I believe the higher ranks hear the call of the Path more strongly. Even if they never choose to fully walk it, they drift towards it over the course of a lifetime, and Astoria is most certainly not on the Path.” Lavine shook her head. “Look at me, a Greater ranker, talking to a mortal about things far beyond even my station. No, I suggest we leave questions about the particulars of high Awakened for another time.”

  “Alright. So best case, I bond with this wand, and I have this aura. Then what? We march into an army of undead and face down this lich?”

  “Depending on the size of your aura, a limited number of our strongest Sovereign and Greater-ranked champions will form your vanguard as you strike towards the heart of the Ravager’s army.”

  “Alright… so is there any risk with soul… bonding this artefact?” Ori asked, remembering the mind-dulling effect of using items with high stat requirements.

  “Based on what was divined, and as you are compatible with the artefact, I suspect not, but we shall see. As an additional point, if you are not aware, soul-binding this artefact is permanent, meaning no one can stop you taking it with you when you return.”

  Ori’s eyes widened with surprise, hope bubbling up from his chest. “Really?”

  “Yes. Consider it payment, of a sort.” Lavine’s ghost of a smile, prompted by Ori’s reaction, darkened as she continued. “However, binding this artefact is only the first step. Even as a summons, even with a celestial artefact at the Immortal rank, there may be little stopping Eltitus from using his foul magics to corrupt, consume, or trap your soul if he truly sets his sights upon you.”

  “You mean, even as a summons, I’m not immune to his magic?” Ori asked, already familiar with that sense of powerlessness that came from magics that messed with his soul.

  “Indeed.”

  “Fuck’sake. Then what’s to stop me from leaving before the Ravager can do that? I mean, without a soul oath or something, I could just leave after the soul-bonding, taking your precious artefact with me.”

  “As I said before, there will be no soul oath to keep you here.”

  “Then what’s to stop me from leaving?” Ori asked, brow furrowed.

  “Nothing. Isn’t this what you wanted? Freedom?” Lavine’s voice was quiet. “As the party representing the summoner, it falls to me to offer that, in exchange for the possibility of saving our capital.”

  “That’s crazy. Won’t your other leaders object?”

  “I am almost certain I will be tried for treason,” Lavine said, then sighed. “Our lives may be forfeit even if you succeed, but a few old Greater-rankers in exchange for the possibility of saving millions… It’s a trade I would gladly make every time it was offered.”

  “There has to be another way? If we think this through, I’m sure there’s something we can do that doesn’t end with more people dead. Bomb the army, lead the Ravager away, buy time for the city to evacuate…”

  Lavine’s shoulders slumped, and for the first time, she looked her age. “The day after tomorrow, they will send our remaining five Sovereign rankers, including my eldest daughter. There is a fair chance that by sundown three days from now, House Searilian will be no more, regardless of whether a miracle happens.” She drifted towards a balcony overlooking a verdant garden, backlit by a warm sunset. “If you happen upon a scheme that could save everyone, I am willing to hear it. But we have all but run out of time.”

  She began to rise. “I must retire for the evening, and I suggest you get some rest now, unless there is anything else.”

  Ori was about to say no, but hesitated.

  “What is it?” Lady Lavine prompted.

  “Just… what was your daughter, Lady Seraphine, like?” Ori asked. At that, some of her energy returned.

  “She was a precocious child. Smart, incisive, a menace to certain quarters of society, and meant for better things than what this realm could offer. Had she lived, I would have banished her from this household so she might have flourished in the greater realms of Fate, instead of the slow poison that is Astoria’s court. I think you two might have got on, though I doubt someone as mild-mannered as yourself would have tolerated her exuberance for long.” Her voice cracked, and a shadow fell over her silver eyes. “I miss her already. Part of what makes this bearable is knowing she is with her father, and that whatever happens next, I will see them soon.”

  She looked aside, as if remembering something. “Oh, before I forget. I found this on my desk.” She handed him an envelope sealed with red wax. Ori took it, turning it over in his hands.

  “What is it?”

  “I believe my daughter intended it for your eyes only. Goodnight, Ori.”

  Ori nodded as Lady Lavine of House Searilian left the room. He watched her go and felt the weight of millions settling on his soul. Seeking a distraction, he sat at the desk and searched for a letter opener. He found something closer to a small ornate dagger, which seemed excessive, until he felt the texture of the not-quite paper and reconsidered.

  Keeping the seal intact, he drew out the letter inside. It was written in a cursive he didn’t recognise, but it was still a language his overpowered demonic boon could still translate.

  Dear Summoned Hero,

  I hope this letter finds you well. The fact that you are reading this means that, while I was successful in summoning you here, I, unfortunately, did not survive the ritual. Do not worry, for if I had survived, it would have meant that your abilities as the summoned would have been woefully inadequate for our needs.

  By now, my mother's briefing should have taken place, and you must be aware of the plan to soul-bind you to a national treasure of Astor. I have no wish to beg for you to go through with this, nor to stay behind and save our city, should the soul-binding be successful, as such efforts are now purely for the living. However, despite the impressions you may have of our realm so far, there are people worth saving, my mother and sister being chief among them.

  Regardless of the events to come and your part in them, I wish you the very best of luck.

  Yours sincerely,

  Lady Seraphine of House Searilian

  C Rank White Magi of the Chromatic Order

  P.S. Please do not reveal the contents of this letter to anyone. Burn it, if you can. Thank you.

  P.P.S. Fitzgerald is not to be trusted. Do not eat anything he gives you, follow any advice he provides, or act upon any orders he issues. He and I are due a reckoning, and I will have one in this age, or my next.

  “Fuck’sake!” Ori cursed into the empty room.