The wind scoured the ruins outside. If anything, the storm intensified as if it meant to tear the buildings from their foundations. Lightning forked, yet none of it touched us. In the room at the top of the pyramid, we were insulated.
I looked over at the Butcher of Men, but he was still unable to escape his stone corral. Above and behind me, Amleila’s situation also hadn’t changed. She’d not responded to the drama unfolding beneath her.
The timer on my phone read “2:18,” the seconds ticking down.
Ikfael’s jaw clenched tight, her concern evident in the way she looked at me. Spirit stuff flowed between us nonstop like a conveyor belt, and I understood her conviction. She was afraid too, but she did want us to become beloved to each other. She did think it was the right decision. She did feel for me: love, affection, and appreciation.
There’d also been annoyance, frustration, and anger too, but that was how things were when you lived with someone. No relationship was perfect, not even the one between Helen and I. We’d had our share of arguments. Love didn’t prevent them; it just made sure you had a place to return to once they were over.
“1:57”
“1:56”
“1:55”
I wiped my palms. The decision I’d made was not in response to my predicament, and I could easily postpone becoming beloved to Ikfael until after we returned to the Glen—until any point in the future, really. Except, by choosing now, we could all become silvered together.
I heard the Deer God snort in derision.
Gently, Yuki prodded, ‘Ollie/Eight?’
It was funny—throw me at a monster, and despite my fears I’d come up with a plan to defeat it. Training had taken me that far, but I hadn’t had enough practice with this. I’d gotten rusty.
“1:23”
“1:22”
Gods damn it, I thought. This isn’t a movie. I’m not going to wait until the last second to do something I want to do. So I took a steadying breath and said, “Ikfael, would you do me the honor of sharing your life with me?”
Her head quirked in confusion, which was reasonable since the language I’d used was English. I cleared my throat and tried again: “Ikfael, will you become my beloved?”
She signed, “Are you sure? The cost…”
“Whatever it is, it will be worth it. You are worth it.”
For a moment, she wavered, but it was nerves. Still, she was a brave one, my Ikfael. “Yes.”
###
The timer stopped at fifty-three seconds. A beat later, everything stopped, then the world turned sideways, I fell out of my body to appear above the Glen’s pool and splashed into the water below.
I recognized the spirit journey for what it was. There was a luminous glow to the land, a stillness too. Ikiira sat alongside the pool’s border, waiting for me. That… that was different. The one time I’d previously spirit journeyed with Ikfael, she’d been an otter throughout.
I pulled myself out of the water and took a seat beside her. Without the body’s myriad organs and chemicals to cloud things, my thoughts were calmer. It was comfortable, pleasant, and enjoyable to simply sit beside Ikiira and watch the pool.
The light changed, although I couldn’t tell you if it had any particular direction to it. There was no night, per se, and no dawn or dusk either. Simply, the light moved and the shadows moved with it. Time passed, and in a moment of clarity I found that Ikiira had leaned against me, her head on my shoulder.
She was warm. Her breathing was soft. She reached out to intertwine her fingers with mine.
Night did fall then. The stars came out to show off their cool radiance. The moon too, reflecting in the pool’s surface. Ikiira was beautiful, I thought, like the moon and stars were beautiful. Like the water flowing through the Glen. Like the stones that made up the earth’s bones. Like the green things that lived atop them.
We were both hunters, foodies, artists, storytellers, and so many other things. We’d fought alongside each other and played too; the Glen often rang with peals of our laughter. There was the wholeness of life between us, and whether she was called Ikfael or Ikiira, this person beside me belonged to me and I belonged to her.
In the timelessness of that understanding, the sense of my beloved became clearer. Her shape was carved into me and her presence filled it. The same happened to her, and when the last details clicked into place, she turned to face me. Her fingers caressed my cheek.
“My beloved,” we each said to the other.
###
I came back to my body changed. A heat radiated from my spine, like someone had hooked up a car battery to the silver threads running through it. The pain was sharp but tolerable. It also didn’t bode well; those threads were an artifact of my Path of the Storm Caller.
With my eyes closed, I knew exactly where Ikfael sat in relation to me. I felt her thoughts quickening in the aftermath of our shared experience. There was a hesitation too, as we both realized that there were aspects of ourselves now missing.
Her feelings brushed mine like her fingers had my cheek—offering comfort, seeking solace. Whatever the result, we were together.
When I looked, I saw the timer remained stuck at fifty-three seconds. A stack of notifications waited, and I opened the first.
> Soul Bridge
>
> You have formed a soul bridge to another being. The following was necessary for its construction: You have lost the talents for Lightning Affinity and Heart of the Storm. In addition, the Path of the Storm Caller is no longer available.
>
> You are currently pathless and dawn. A new structure must be put into place immediately to maintain integrity of your talent vessel, so you have been assigned the temporary Path of the Pathless.
A pit opened in my stomach, and Ikfael shared my horror. Yet immediately in response, she filled me with hope for the future. For the loss to be so great, the gains must match them.
Ikfael had it easier; I felt the loss of her Ritualist and Skillful Defender talents, but at least her path was still intact.
Filled with sadness, I almost couldn’t read the next notification that popped up, but I had to. Surely Ikfael was right, and the gains would make up for the gut-wrenching losses.
> Beloved of Ikfael
>
> Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
>
> To become the beloved of a spirit of the land is a great honor and a great responsibility. Walker, you must now help the one called Ikfael refine the world. Your Path to Perfection both broadens and narrows as a result.
>
> The following benefits are now active:
>
> * A bridge has formed, allowing for increased intimacy of thought and emotions
> * For your beloved to aid you, no exchanges are required
> * All soul marks are shared
> * The overlap of vessels may also allow for some talents to be shared
> * Spells originating from one may also originate from the other
> * Any light gathered can be applied to either of the beloved
> * 150 years has been added to your life expectancy
>
> Please note that while the benefits related to soul marks and life expectancy are fundamental, the others require permission from the source.
>
> You are now an instrument for the perfection of the world, as well as the guarantor of your beloved’s exchanges. As such, you must participate in the reckoning spirits of the land face at the end of every Long Dark.
I stared dumbly at the notification as my brain broke thinking about shared soul marks and talents. I’d not seen that in Leilu’s and Moonlight’s relationship, but maybe that was a quirk of their specific entries. They weren’t spellcasters in the traditional sense either, so I’d had no idea beloved could cast spells through each other.
Wait, with Ikfael and me so close, does that mean she’s now be willing to take Yuki…
I felt her acquiescence. There were no more secrets between us, so she had nothing to hide. She would finally let Yuki meet her directly, taking an extension of them into her. That would make the uekisheile so happy.
The benefits were enough to temper the pain. Make no mistake, I felt the losses keenly, but there was hope here too. The addition to my lifespan alone was no joke. I could expect to live for three hundred fifty years once I became silvered.
The next notification flashed before I could do anything else.
> 325,144 silverlight gathered. 81,286 absorbed.
And the cold burned. Ice flowed through me, chilling me to the center of my bones.
###
I lay on a bed of pelts torn from the bodies of my enemies. My den was at the top of a pyramid now ruined because the people who’d built it had long, long since passed. All around me was a jungle teeming with life, yet none of it drew my attention. What could? Time was death simply waiting to happen. Everything else was an ageless chore—a yoke and a burden.
The fleeting moments of passion were nothing more than transitory distractions. Even stone crumbled eventually. The vines crawling over its surface withered, only to be replaced again and again by new life: aimless and doing nothing more than pointlessly exist before dying.
The Path to Perfection was a lie, because no matter how much stronger I grew, everything else became less and less interesting—until the day a winged kalesk from far to the north made a pilgrimage to me for an exchange.
Beloved to another, Asiik captured my attention like nothing else had. My world filled with color in his presence. It became lively in the light of his sharp mind.
Our exchange was fair—the cost was his time, a span long enough to win his heart. And through him, to also meet, woo, and win Heleitia.
Who else was so blessed as to have two beloved? And yet I was greedy. If two enriched my endless life so, what might three do?
The others said the boy Baxta was too sly to be trusted, but I saw the glory in his soul. The story he told was compelling. After all, what was the use of power? Of strength and cunning? What good were they, if not directed toward a grand purpose. If not used to build something timeless.
Baxta knew how to want. It gave his life meaning and direction. Might it not do the same for me?
The exchanges were intricate and subtle. The boy extracted their full value, and I received my fair share from them too.
People fell and so did their cities; all the while we grew stronger, but not for the cause of perfection. The empire we built was proof of our hunger, a monument to outlast the sun and moon.
Heleitia, the poor child, fled back to her home in the north. She understood our cause—of course a beloved must—but she disagreed. And a delight it was, the youthful drama making my life even more interesting. Even the lack of her when she blocked me from her mind and heart, all it did was stoke my desire.
She should not have run, though—not if she cared for her people. Because I had to follow, and where I went Baxta’s armies went too. The destruction was magnificent. It was no longer aimless. The deaths of the giant serpents in Heleitia’s homeland served a greater cause.
My dear Asiik, his time came to also disagree. He’d remained connected to Heleitia and felt her overwhelming sorrow. But I could not lose them both. To my endless shame and horror, I told Baxta of how Asiik sought to withdraw from us.
Sly Baxta. Cunning Baxta. Ruthless Baxta. He knew what the loss of Asiik would mean for his armies, so he gave me a gift: a gold necklace worthy of an empress. I preened as he put it on me; I keened as my will bent to his.
###
My thoughts then muddied when the light of thousands of beings suddenly rushed forth. I drowned in the waters, tossed among the currents, helpless and unable to right myself, until I was finally bucked clear.
Multiple notifications blinked, and my body shivered. My breath frosted as I sucked in and let go gulps of air, hyperventilating. I also felt both Yuki, Ikfael, and even the Deer God reeling.
Gathering my wits, I saw that the timer no longer displayed on my phone. The immediate crisis of my soul dissipating had passed. As for the Butcher, he thrashed in his pen like he’d been dropped into boiling oil. Something had sent him out of control.
I swayed as I stood to check on Amleila, and she… I’d never seen anything like it. Her body had emptied like she’d been juiced. Her fur was intact, but underneath it were the brass tubes, old bones, and desiccated flesh. The golden necklace now hung loosely from what was left of her neck.
We appeared to be in no immediate danger, so I let myself lean against the pedestal, recovering. Next to me, Ikfael did the same, then she started slapping her face to bring herself back to this place and time. The experience of being Amleila had felt so… so visceral.
A breeze blew through my clothes. Alarmed, I looked for a breach in the walls, but there was none. The wind circled above Amleila’s body. Her ghost? But no, what my spirit eyes revealed was the Deer God coming into view.
His form became clearer and clearer—solidifying until, with an audible clatter, his hooves touched down onto the pedestal.
He was the size of an ordinary buck, but his coat shone with a million shades of earthy browns and forest greens, and his rack had at least fifteen points. He huffed to clear his nostrils, then did it again until something dark and slimy hit the floor.
The Deer God caught me staring and rolled his eyes. Then, he bounded down to the floor.
He was here, now an irrevocable part of Diaksha, which meant he possessed a valid talent vessel. My Status camera clicked.
> The Deer God (Earth Spirit, Silvered)
>
> Talents: Spirit Born, Power Born, One with the Herd, Nature’s Judge, Impassive Guide, Artful Collaborator
I rubbed my forehead at seeing the depth of his talents. Although, I should’ve expected it. He’d been a real power back on Earth. What he’d translated into was not a spirit of the land, but something else. His attention turned inward as he examined the changes to himself.
Yuki emerged from their own contemplations to say, ‘We’re okay. The energy from turning silvered is pushing us to advance too, though. We’re holding back until we’re sure everyone is safe.’
I also felt the energy—an upswelling of wild, exhilarating joy spinning through them, me, and Ikfael. I glanced at her, and she clearly had it under control, because there was a perplexed expression on her face.
“Are you okay? Is something wrong?” I asked.
“I don’t understand this artifact,” she signed. “Is it supposed to describe my abilities within the context of the World Spirit?”
“Artifact? What artifact?”
“At the top is my name, and then in order is my path, my age, the amount of silverlight I’ve accumulated throughout my life, and so on. The numbers all seem accurate, but why enumerate them like this? It’s as if the World Spirit now considers me a babe with no internal sense for my own abilities.”
“Is there… a blinking square at the top right?” I asked.
Ikfael nodded. “With some lines drawn on it? Yes.”
“Try focusing on the symbol,” I suggested.
“It expanded. Oh… oh. This is interesting. The artifact describes the process of forming a soul bridge. And this one, the rights and responsibilities of the beloved. The information is surprisingly articulate and helpful.” Ikfael looked up in shock. “Wait, this is how you are so sure of the names of talents, isn’t it? Your spirit eyes are not involved. The talent… let me find… here it is. The one called Talent Agency is what does it, combined with the soul mark God Touched; I can read what they do by focusing deeper.”
Ikfael glared. “You are not a Little Pot of Questions. You are a Large Pot of Mysteries. Look at all these things you’ve kept hidden! At least your numbers match the maps of your spirit. There are no surprises there.” Her eyes narrowed. “Tell me, who exactly is Helen Miriam Sandoval, and why do you have their blessing?”
I suddenly feel like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. More importantly, how did Ikfael know about Helen’s blessing? It was already amazing that she’d gained access to a phone like mine, but the last time I’d checked, the blessing only displayed on my hidden Status.
“You can see my information?” I asked, dumbfounded.
“There is an arrow,” Ikfael replied. “Also, you did not answer my question.”
Things were happening too quickly, and thinking was hard when joy was practically spilling out my ears. Ikfael had access to phone like mine likely as a product of the soul marks I shared with her. And she could see my Status too?