Kirstin rested her hand on her bow, pondering Donal's words. People have been murdered over much less, he had said, and the way he had looked at Shadowstrike - avaricious, yet wistful - made her believe him.

Soulbound. That was how he had described the bow and the moment he had spoken that word, she had known the right of it.

Ignoring whatever lesson Eliud was trying to impress on Genoes, she sat cross-legged on the floor, Shadowstrike resting in her lap. Savage buzzed in irritation at the unexpected movement and hopped free from her shoulder, stalking to nuzzle into the fur on Josul's back, much to the dog's delight. Kirstin watched the two for a moment, making sure the cat would not suddenly return and disturb her.

Happy Savage was settled, Kirstin allowed herself to examine Shadowstrike anew. The bow’s dark limbs gleamed faintly as if absorbing the light that glowed in Eliud's hands. She ran her fingers along the wood, tracing the swirling patterns carved into its surface. It seemed to respond to her, almost as if it were revelling in the contact, eager for her to continue to stroke it.

Donal's words echoed once more in her mind. Soulbound. The word had carried all the weight of expectation she had been keen to keep at bay. This was not just another piece of equipment; this bow was a part of who she was now, or at least it would be if she completed the binding. However, there was far more to it than just claiming it. She could feelthat something deeper was at play: that any intended bond would not be merely transactional.

Kirstin glanced down at her palm, noting again the faint glow that had appeared there after she had acquired the bow—an indigo light shimmering like the heart of a nebula. The connection to her Rank 2 Skill, , was clear.

"Bind it before someone takes it from you," Donal had said. He wasn’t one to exaggerate - well, no, that was not quite true. The Donal she had known before his . . . transformation was one ever given to hyperbole. However, the way the brow of his latest form had furrowed, the tightness in his voice . . . The man was both concerned and . . . hungry? That combination made her nervous.

Kirstin took a breath and phased Eliud's lesson to Genoes out, closing her eyes and tried to focus, to feel for the connection between her and Shadowstrike. She tried to ignore the soft murmur of voices around her, but her thoughts kept drifting, circling around the what-ifs, the consequences of failure. What would happen if she couldn’t bind the bow? What if someone did take it? Would she lose her Skill? What about her new Class? Was she really so fragile?

"Focus, Kirstin," she muttered to herself, activating .

Her senses flared, reaching out instinctively, touching the spiral of energy that had settled within her since her power upgrade. She could feel the threads of the Skill wrapping around her, pulling her into the space between the realms, but it was slippery, hard to grasp, as if the power itself was waiting for her to understand something vital before allowing her complete control.

Shadowstrike pulsed beneath her fingers. The sensation was not entirely unpleasant, but it was unsettling, like the beat of a second heart. It was alien, yet oddly familiar, a whisper in a language she had always known but never spoken.

Something tugged at her, pulling her towards the realm she had left behind. Savage, probably. The cat had said how much it hated the sense of 'goneness' that occurred when Kirstin used this power. With an effort, she pulled away from that sending. As a plain old , she had always been good at control, good at focusing, yet now . . . now her mind felt groggy as if she were trying to draw a bow of mist. Shadowstrike was resisting her, drawing her along in its wake, towards . . . something dark.

Kirstin felt a sudden flicker of doubt. What if she was not powerful enough to bind the bow? Although Donal seemed to know what a 'threshold bonus' was, even someone as powerful as Eliud had never heard of it. How could she possibly think she was in the same realm as him? As the legendary Daine Darkhelm. What if all of this was a mistake? That she was never meant to wield something so powerful? The bow felt too grand, too . . . heavy for her. Kirstin was not some storied, legendary hero. She was just an ordinary girl fumbling through every mistake like everyone else.

But that was not entirely true, was it? Ever since her death in the Sky Keep, she was different. The power that had been growing within her ever since she had chosen to evolve her Class into becoming a Celestial Harbinger was undeniable. From that moment, she had been bursting through barriers she had not even known existed, and the world had begun to feel both more dangerous and more malleable under her touch. Her , now at Rank 2, had transformed her understanding of what was possible. She could bend the light around her, vanish into shadow, become untouchable for fleeting moments.

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Achieving a bond with her bow . . . this was the next step. She understood that. But knowing it did not make the task of attaining it any easier.

Kirstin sighed, feeling the strain in her shoulders from sitting still for too long. Her back ached, her mind even more so. But she could not simply give up.

People have been murdered over much less.

"Alright," she whispered, as if speaking to the bow. "Let’s try this again."

Kirstin centred herself, focusing on the weight of Shadowstrike in her lap. This time, she pushed everything else out of her mind and let herself be pulled deeper into that strange pulse she felt through the bow. At first, it was faint, just a murmur at the edge of her consciousness, but slowly, as she breathed in, out, in again, the sensation strengthened. A thread of connection began to weave itself between her and the bow, ethereal and barely perceptible, but there. She grasped it, reaching for the connection and, for a second, it almost slipped away.

But then—snap—it clicked into place.

A flood of energy rushed through her. She gasped, eyes flying open, as the world around her warped. The walls twisted, shifting into shades of black and purple, rippling with the light of distant stars. She was no longer in the chamber; she was floating in a void, a space of swirling dust and far-off worlds.

Her breath quickened. What was this place? This was very different from the gap between the realms she was used to experiencing when activating her Skill. Kirstin looked down at the bow in her hands, but it was no longer just a weapon. Shadowstrike shimmered, glowing with the same indigo light she could see pulsing in her veins. It was part of her now, she realised. Almost an extension of her arms. This was not a dream. It was a test—a trial.

"Bind me," a voice whispered, soft as the brush of stardust. But it was not coming from outside of Kirstin. It was inside her mind.

Kirstin swallowed. "I’m trying," she said, though she was not sure if she was speaking to herself or the bow.

"Our bond is not complete yet. But it is close."

Kirstin knew the voice was telling the truth. She could feel the connection right there, just beyond her grasp. However, whenever she reached for it, something pulled her back—fear, doubt, or maybe something else entirely.

She did not know how long she sat there, caught between worlds, her mind stretched thin between the ethereal nebula and the cold, hard reality of the Dark God's Keep. Time did not seem to exist here.

But she couldn’t stop now. She would not.

She was going to bind Shadowstrike

She had to.

Kirstin steadied her breathing, drawing in the cool air of the void. Each inhale seemed to fill her lungs with stardust, and with every exhale, her bow responded, pulsing softly. Shadowstrike thrummed in her grip as though impatient, waiting for her to take the next step.

The connection between them was almost palpable now, a live wire of energy buzzing through her fingers. Yet, even as she felt the bond strengthening, something still resisted, a weight at the back of her mind. And then she realised it was not Shadowstrike that held back—no, it was her. Her fear. Her doubt.

You are not good enough for this.

The voice of Jak whispered viciously in her mind. How often had he said those words to her over the years? How many times had her brother taken some dream she had cherished and crushed it. And now, here he was. The echo of every insecurity, every nagging thought she had buried deep inside herself. Who are you to wield something so powerful? Jak asked. Who are you to rise this far?

Kirstin's heart pounded a heavy, uneven rhythm that drowned out the hum of the bow. She had been pushing herself further and further ever since that day in the Sky Keep. But maybe—just maybe—this was too much. Perhaps Jak was right. She was just a scared girl, clinging to her brother's coattails, hoping the world would leave her alone.

No!

Kirstin clenched her jaw, yelling back at her brother. She had fought more brutal battles than this. She had faced monsters - enemies far more fantastic than herself - and come out alive. She had earned this power, earned the right to claim Shadowstrike as her own. She was no longer just the girl fumbling through mistakes. She was a Celestial Harbinger. And she would rise to meet this challenge.

Lifting her chin, she reached for the bond once more, her mind focused and clear. The thread of connection was there, glowing brightly in the darkness, and this time, she did not hesitate. Kirstin grasped it with both hands, pulling the energy into herself, letting it flood her senses. The void around her shimmered, rippling with life, and she felt Shadowstrike’s power surge through her.

The bond between them snapped into place, solid and unbreakable, and Kirstin gasped as a new Skill bloomed within her Core, uncoiling like a serpent from the depths of her soul. She did not even need to look at the notification to know what it was. The knowledge flowed into her naturally, as if it had always been there.

"," she whispered, the words tasting like starlight on her tongue.

Kirstin released and opened her eyes, the void fading as reality bled back into focus. The corridor was quiet, the world still.

A warm hand touched her shoulder.

"Kirstin?" Eliud’s voice was soft, full of concern. "Are you okay?"

She exhaled, the weight of the bow still present, but now . . . lighter. She smiled faintly, nodding.

"I am now."