Echo begins listing off the class options. [Mirror Mage.]

“Sounds dumb,” I say.

“It doesn’t matter what it’s called,” Zyneth says. “What does it do?”

[A class specializing in glass based magics. Mana consumption reduced by 50% for glass-based spells. Glass Attunement time reduced by 50%. The user additionally obtains the skill Elemental Dowsing which allows them to discover Attunable elements within range.]

“Could be useful,” I admit. “I really need to develop my glass magic. Especially if I can find a way to make it less fragile.”

“That should certainly be possible,” Zyneth agrees. “Maybe even without this class evolution. I’ve witnessed glass more durable than the type you wield: perhaps it has something to do with how it’s forged. Regardless, what are the other options?”

[Shade Sorcerer,] Echo says next.

I snort. “Could it be any more edgy?”

“No one will know what it’s called, Kanin.”

“I’ll know.”

[A class specializing in void based magics. Mana consumption reduced by 50% for void-based magics. Physical void constructs durability and precision increased by 50%. The user additionally obtains the skill Elemental Dowsing which allows them to discover Attunable elements within range.]

“So, effectively the same thing but for your void magic,” Zyneth says.

If it reduced mana consumption for using the void, maybe this would stem the predator’s constant hunger for more souls and help me wrangle a little more control over it. Alternatively, the increased durability and precision to void magic might just make the predator stronger. This one could turn out really useful, or really bad.

“And the last one?” Zyneth asks.

[Arcane Attendant]

“Oh, please,” I sigh. “Is the alliteration necessary?”

“Just tell me what it means!” Zyneth cries, exasperated.

[A servant class specializing in the protection and assistance of others. The user gains access to the passive ability Arcane Guardian: When spells are used for the benefit of anyone other than the user, all arcana use increases in effectiveness by 100%. Elemental Kinesthesia increased by 50%. Mana consumption reduced by 50%. The user additionally obtains the skill Elemental Dowsing which allows them to discover Attunable elements within range.]

“It’s a play off my Role,” I say, mildly annoyed. “The Homunculus. An artificial servant. It’s rewarding me if I continue to play that part.”

“That seems… vindictive,” Zyneth says.

“The gods of this world must have a sick sense of humor,” I grumble. “But joke’s on them—I’m a bigger person now. Something as small as a dumb class name won’t get to me.”

Zyneth raises an eyebrow.

“Okay it won’t get to me much,” I admit. “But it does seem like the class to pick.”

“Are you sure?” Zyneth asks. “It’s only useful situationally. If you’re defending yourself, for instance, you won’t gain any bonuses.”

“But it won’t hurt, either,” I say. “It would be the same as I am now; and with the predator invested in keeping me alive, I’m less worried about protecting myself than making sure the same can be said for others.”

Zyneth, specifically.

“When in effect, it is stronger than the other two classes combined,” Zyneth admits. “And it’s definitely advantageous that it boosts both of your affinities.”

“Exactly,” I say. “Two in one.”

“It sounds like you’ve already made your choice,” Zyneth says.

I hesitate. This is an important decision, and I should probably give it more than ten seconds of thought.

Mirror Mage (as stupid as the name sounds) would probably be the safest pick. I need glass manipulation no matter what, and making my body stronger—now that it’s probably my permanent body—should be my number one priority from a magic standpoint.

The Shade class is high risk, high reward. It could be the solution to gain a leg up over the predator. But it might also tip the tables in the opposite direction, and I’m not sure that’s a risk I can take.

And of course, there’s the cheeky servant class.

Echo, I ask her. If the ship were to come under attack, and I used my magic to protect it, would the conditions be met for activating Arcane Attendant’s effects?

[The answer varies depending on the specifics of the situation.]

Assuming Zyneth was onboard, I clarify.

[Affirmative,] Echo says. [If magic was used to protect a structure in which the user was aware others were housed, the conditions of the Arcane Attendant class would go into effect.]

That’s exactly what I needed to hear. This class will help keep us alive while we’re still trapped in the submarine. And once we get to land—once, not if—it will also help me when I start tracking down the Lost Souls.

Yeah, I haven’t forgotten about those guys, as frustrating as it is that there’s nothing I can do to try to find or help any of them at the moment. I’ll just have to hope their first few days on this planet are better than mine.

“Arcane Attendant,” I say with an inward grimace. Okay, Zyneth might have been right that the name still bugs me. But I won’t let that stop me! “Select class evolution, Echo.”

[Class evolution selected,] Echo says, and a warm energy washes over me. [Spell obtained: Elemental Dowsing. Ability obtained: Arcane Guardian. Mana: +100. Mana Recovery Rate: 1 point per minute.]

[Name: Kanin]

[Class: Arcane Attendant]

[Level: 20]

[HP: 10/10]

[Temp HP: 197]

[Mana: 300/300]

[Role: Homunculus]

The predator sits up and pays attention. It seems to understand that some sort of latent boost has been granted to its void abilities, even if it’s not in effect at this moment.

Don't get too excited, I tell it. We only get the effects of Arcane Guardian while we’re helping someone.

The predator doesn't seem to understand this, which is entirely unsurprising.

“Is that it?” Zyneth asks. “You don’t look any different.”

“I don’t feel any different,” I admit. “But hey! I got a pretty significant mana boost. About time!” All it costs is a sliver of my dignity every time I glance at my Class.

“That’s great news.” He smiles wryly. “Maybe now you won’t need to leech off my mana every time you need to renew your spell.”

“Leech!” I repeat, offended. “That spell keeps me alive, thank you very much!”

The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

“You’re right,” he says with a chuckle. “I apologize for comparing you to a blood sucking parasite. There’s no blood involved at all.”

I grumble. “The only parasite here is the predator.”

Despite his objections, Zyneth still offers me some of his mana when I finally get back to completing my Core Bond renewal. I use up all of my mana and some of his, buying another week for my Core Bond spell. It’s always a little anxiety-inducing, being a week or two away from death if I’m not paying attention and run out of mana at the wrong time, but at least I have Trenevalt’s beads to help me keep track.

The predator doesn’t mind that I used up all my mana, because it steals enough scraps away from me each day that Echo’s Predator Time Limit stat is invariably sitting somewhere around 50 hours. I guess we both have our own stakes in reality to maintain.

The rest of the day passes without any more monster attacks. Zyneth spends most of his time studying the controls of the ship, trying to intuit the runes that keep the sub running, and which ones might point us back to land. I study some sign language—really that book is the only form of entertainment I have down here—fix little pieces of my still-broken body as my recovering mana allows, and try out my new Elemental Dowsing spell. Like my Inspect spell, which allows me to trace magical connections and learn a bit about their purpose, the Dowsing spell’s mana consumption depends on how big of a range I use. I can have it running at 1 mana per minute, perfectly balancing with my mana recovery rate, if I only apply its area of effect to a sphere with a one-foot radius originating from my core. Which is, of course, totally useless. If I’m looking for some glass or void to Attune, and it’s already right in my face, I don’t need a spell to find it. However, if I wait until I’ve saved up some more mana, it could be interesting. Each point of mana doubles its range, so spending 10 mana per second expands the range to a whopping 5oo feet. Of course, I could only keep it going for 30 seconds, and then I’d be out of mana and unable to Attune anything, but still, it could be useful for when I need some more glass in a pinch. I’m eager to try it out once I’m not stuck in a metal submarine.

As the evening approaches, I can feel the predator becoming restless. It had been moping and recovering since Emrox, having lost half of its power, but I guess today’s hunting spree has reawakened some of its instincts. I warily keep my eye on it as Zyneth prepares for bed and I take up watch on the main deck. I hate sitting here all night, twiddling my thumbs in the dark and silence, anxiously waiting for something out there to find us.

Words tickle my mind: We don’t have to wait.

I mentally cast a suspicious glance toward the predator. What are you talking about?

We are a predator, not prey, it thinks. We should be out there in the waters, hunting anything that dares venture too close; not waiting for them to come to us!

I can’t go out in the water, I say, tapping the core in my chest. The pressure would crush my vial. Or have you forgotten?

The predator paces angrily in my mind. So weak! No, it hasn’t forgotten. But we don’t need to risk our soul to guard our territory. Our range is big enough that just the void can leave. We know this: it showed us earlier today.

Don’t remind me, I say. But speaking of that stunt, we need to have a talk about how we’re going to coexist going forward. You can’t just leave whenever you feel like killing something.

Even if it saves us?

Well, I hesitate. That might be an allowable exception.

The predator smirks.

But you still have to be careful, I add before it can get too full of itself. If I hadn’t been strapped into a chair, I would have collapsed, and that could have injured my core.

That sullens the predator. It doesn’t want to risk damaging our soul. It needs it. Maybe… maybe… it can leave some of its void behind so I am not so weak.

That’s my void, thank you very much.

Our void, the predator counters.

I sigh. Alright, fine. I’m willing to share, if you’re willing to play ball.

I get the mental equivalent of a head tipped in confusion.

What I mean is, I want to figure out a system that works for both of us, I say. No more surprise unilateral decisions on your part. And absolutely no more eating souls.

That sours the predator’s mood. It needs souls to stay in reality. To keep from being sent to the timeless monotony of Between.

For a moment, my train of thought is knocked off track. I’d never really spared a moment to think about why the predator wanted to stay in reality. With its thoughts just now, however, I caught a glimpse of what it experienced while stuck in the null dimension: endless nothingness. Infinite boredom. A lack of everything—no sense of space, no sense of time, no sense of self. The mind-numbing lack of stimulation was its own form of torture. Any living creature would have been driven mad in its place.

Was it some thinking creature that had been driven mad over the eons? The thought briefly horrifies me, but as I catch another whiff of the predator’s memories of its time spent Between, I realize that, no: It was just really, really bored.

Anyway, you don’t really need souls to stay in reality, do you? I point out, not letting the extremely-faint-and-already-diminishing pity I feel for the creature distract me from its argument. You can absorb excess mana from my soul and achieve the same thing. That’s what you’ve been doing for over a month now.

The predator wilts. Yes, but it doesn’t taste nearly as good.

Cry me a river. Taking souls kills people. You can’t do that. That’s a hard line you’re not allowed to cross.

It won’t take Zyneth’s soul, the predator concedes.

Or anyone else’s! I cry. God, it’s like arguing with a brick wall.

Perhaps reacting to my own emotions, I feel a current of irritation stir in the predator. So many demands. But what does it gain? How is this… It pauses, unsure what it’s even trying to articulate. Then it reaches into me, into my mind and memories, just as I’d been doing with it a moment before. I reel back at the invasion, but the predator found the concept it was looking for.

Fair. How is this fair? What does the predator gain from this cooperation?

At that, I’m at a loss for words. Frankly, I hadn’t really been concerned with what the predator got out of it. I’m not sure, I admit. What is it you want?

Souls.

No.

Permanently merging our minds and body.

Absolutely not.

Just a couple souls.

Still no.

The predator growls. It doesn’t have to ask. It doesn’t have to work with me. It might not be at its full strength, but it’s just as strong as I am.

Its presence builds into a pressure, its mind pressing against my own, and I have push abruptly back to keep from being overwhelmed.

I can resist, the predator acknowledges. I can fight it off sometimes. But I can’t fight it off forever.

Alright, I say, shoving it away with not a small amount of effort. You’ve made your point. And as much as I hate to admit it, you’re right: I can’t always beat you. And you can’t always beat me. But constantly fighting each other isn’t going to make either of us happy. So what’s the compromise?

The predator laughs; the answer is obvious. And I really can’t blame it, because it’s right, the answer is obvious, just not one I particularly like. But if I’m making demands, and it’s willing to meet them, then I have to be willing to make concessions, too.

The predator’s mind swirls around me excitedly as it brings its proposal into focus.

50/50. That’s the split in our power. So it’s only fair that should be the split in our control, too. During the day, we do what I want and stay separate, but at night, we agree to the predator’s wants and become one mind. The night is when I need its help the most, it argues. Both of us on watch is better than just one. Searching for prey is the best time to let it act freely.

Not completely feely, I object. No souls. No killing anyone.

The predator’s mind presses closer. Excited. What about monsters? What if they attack us?

Just self defense, I say. Only if we’re protecting the submarine.

Its will is pressing against my own, waiting for me to agree, but I still hold it back. It’s not really trying to take over my mind, yet. But it’s eagerly waiting to.

And stay away from Zyneth, I hurriedly add.

The predator scoffs. It knows not to hurt the cambion.

It pushes more forcefully against my mind, waiting for me to give in, and I try to fight off the swell of anxiety this summons within me. I know this is the right move, even if it terrifies me. I know I have to do this, even if I hate it.

First, it had been the dominant mind, and crushed my will. Then, I’d been the one in control, suppressing it. Neither of these approaches were sustainable. If we both want to survive, we have to find a way to coexist.

And I’ve witnessed it learn. I know it can grasp ideas now it didn’t understand when it first latched itself to my soul. If I want to temper its threat to others, connecting with it daily—exposing it to more human thoughts and feelings—might be the best way to expedite that change. It will only be another couple of weeks until we make it back to land. Will that be enough time for any recognizable change? I guess if nothing else, I have to try. I don’t know if the two of us coming to an understanding will ever be possible, but maybe at least a truce—

The predator throws its mind at my own. Enough thinking. Now, it’s time to hunt.

For one panicked moment, I fight back, instinctively clutching to my control. But this is what I agreed to. This is the first step toward moving forward. Forcing myself to make the most terrifying choice I’ve ever had to make, I stop fighting, and I let the predator win.