image [https://i.imgur.com/jpOYNWV.png]

Bathed in sweat, I woke from the thirty-fifth or so nightmare that had plagued my sleep. The sheets were completely soaked through, and I was feeling groggy and exhausted, more mentally than physically.

Before I had a chance to wallow too much in self-pity, I got up, put on some clean clothes, and ambled into the living room where I could hear Colson and Imara talking.

“… still don’t understand why he didn’t tell him. There’s no excuse. If you’re right–”

Colson stopped talking as I neared the door. Imara’s pleasant voice cut through the silence.

“Ethan, we were just talking about you. Come on in.”

Feeling slightly apprehensive, I went inside and sat down at the table across from her.

“May I see your hands, dear?” she asked and reached over the table, palms up.

Complying I put my hands in hers, instantly feeling slightly more at ease as we touched. She closed her eyes and sat in silence for a moment.

“Very good, the block is indeed gone,” she told me after a moment and withdrew. Her voice was breathy, and she let out a sigh of relief.

“You weren’t sure it would work.” My tone was a tad accusatory, phrasing it as a statement on purpose.

“I was not, but I had reason to believe it would. You are not the first with this condition to grace my steps. You are the first to be so far along and not having succumbed to the divide, however. In my estimation, your overall experience weakened the block enough to lift it entirely when your body died.”

“The block being what, exactly?”

My head swam as she verified what I’d been thinking; I’d been dead briefly.

She lowered her head for a moment and contemplated, before speaking.

“Ethan, every being alive has a soul. The soul is a combination of your spiritual and physical self and is sacrosanct. Untouchable. On your soul sits a mark, which is not. This mark is collectively referred to as a Sigil, and no two are identical," she paused in her explanation for a couple of seconds, thinking. "When some children reach puberty, their Sigil’s potential for growth accelerates and they start to exhibit signs that signify an aptitude to develop it outside of what you would refer to as ‘normal’.

In short, an aptitude for magic—sorcery, wizardry, channelling, the arcane arts—whichever term you prefer. If they have the aptitude and train properly, they can nurture and grow their Sigil until they have realised it fully,” she explained.

“Hold on, you said everyone has a Sigil, so what’s the difference between someone with the ‘normal’ one and one that can develop further?” I asked.

“A normal Sigil reaches its peak much sooner—closing itself off from aether exposure—often close to reaching adulthood. Normal people’s Sigils can still develop within that threshold, but their upper limit would be what you call peak human performance in different categories.”

“You mean like Olympic athletes and super smart people and such?” I asked, following her logic.

She nodded before continuing.

“Sigils that can develop past that threshold are more open-ended and will start pulling in ambient aether automatically, at some point. That is why most Sigil Holders, mages though we seldom use that word, eventually find out they are different, even without guidance. When I first met you, a part of your soul was blocked off—the part that we can affect—the part connected to your Sigil. Your Sigil was trying very hard to fight its way through that block to connect with the rest of your soul, so it could develop and grow. It was unable to do so, and I could feel the strain it was under.”

“What would’ve happened if the block wasn’t removed?”

“Your Sigil would eventually have ripped itself to shreds trying to get through. This can happen to anyone, even normals, and death is the least horrific outcome in such a case.”

Well, that sounded bad. If she was telling the truth.

“Who put it there?”

“I do not know,” she said in a sad voice. “It is possible that someone put it there, but it is also possible that you created it yourself, I cannot say for certain.” She was silent for a second. “You are not sure if you believe me,” she observed.

I guess my scepticism must have shown on my face. I wasn’t. Monsters and secret societies were one thing, but I’d seen it. I’d fought one. All this talk of souls and Sigils was too abstract and fantastic to be taken at face value, but I kept silent.

“Colson tells me that you know of the tranquil mind?”

“I do.”

“If you will humour me, can we see you enter it?” she asked hopefully.

Not having a good enough reason to refuse, I agreed. This time there was no lag between me closing my eyes and entering the tranquil mind—and it happening. One moment I was looking at Imara and the next I was in the ruins.

“That’s the fastest I’ve ever done it,” I said in an awed voice.

“What do you see?” her voice was curious.

“Wait, I thought you could see my soul? Isn’t that how you determined there was a block in place?”

“I cannot see into it. I can only see it superficially and that is an exceptionally rare gift. Your Sigil was visible and isolated which is something I have only ever seen in people who are partially or wholly blocked off. As I said, souls are inviolate. Except in very rare circumstances.”

Frowning, I described the scene before me. The ruins, the overgrowth, the sky, the space in the middle where my mirror should be. Except the mirror was gone. Now that I thought about it, I had felt it break during the conclusion of the fight. When I died.

“Hm, I had wondered if there would be a physical manifestation of the block. It seems in your case it had the appearance of a mirror. What you are seeing is the inside of your soul,” she concluded when I’d told them, “Tell me, is there anything in place of the mirror?”

Looking around, I couldn’t see anything different or out of place. I checked the surrounding buildings and the sky.

“Nothing’s different except for the mirror being gone.”

“Try and go to the space where it stood,” she instructed.

“It’s not— oh. Wait. There’s a kind of engraving etched into the ground.”

On the spot where my mirror used to be, was a large circle with a smaller circle and a square inside it.

image [https://i.imgur.com/EQzk9Fa.png]

I told them what I saw.

“Are you sure? This is very important, Ethan,” Colson chimed in.

He did sound uncharacteristically serious.

“Yeah, I’m sure. Why? Is that bad?” I felt weird talking to them with my eyes closed.

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“On the contrary, Ethan, it is very good. I had worried that your Sigil would be stunted, perhaps showing only a single unconnected line. I have never heard of three full base formations in a Sigil Holder when their foundation is first forming. Remarkable,” Imara sounded lost in thought.

Opening my eyes, I found myself in front of them once again, their gazes locked on my face.

“Explain, please.”

Colson took up the mantle and explained, “It’s more or less agreed on by people who’re way smarter than me, that the stronger your base formation is, the more growth potential you have. A base formation is indicated by a large area that interconnects with itself and usually contains the rest of your Sigil inside of it. Think of a square, circle, triangle, star and so on, with symbols and patterns inside. It’s the only indicator we have of future growth, but even then, it’s never a sure thing. When I was your age, I had one circle. I got a second one outside the first when I was around forty, and that’s pretty darn rare. Typically, when a base formation has formed, the Sigil only develops inward.”

“There’s potential, then?”

“Oh yeah, there’s potential alright,” Colson confirmed.

“Ethan,” Imara began, her voice severe, “it is very important that you do not share the shape and formation of your Sigil with other people. Others have no way to tell how powerful it is, or how powerful it can become. Colson and I are ready to swear a binding oath that will prevent us from disclosing what you have told us.”

I sighed, of course, there was a warning attached.

“Two questions, then. What’ll happen if you talk about it anyway? And why is it important not to talk about?”

I wanted to trust them, I did, but the stunt they’d pulled with the empousa had made me wary.

“We’ll die,” Colson stated simply. “There’ll be a geas in place, a gag order, that will prevent us from communicating it to others. At first, it’ll be excruciatingly painful if we try, and if we keep it up, our Sigils will burn up.”

“With regards to your second question, most everybody hides their advancement. There is almost no upside to walking around flaunting your Sigil. One upside is that if you are strong enough it can naturally be a deterrent for people wanting to instigate conflict,” Imara intoned.

“Or to brag. You’ll probably meet one of two of those. You ever watch Dragonball?” Colson suddenly asked me.

Doing a double take I wasn’t sure I’d heard him correctly coming out of left field with that question, but he was dead serious.

“Some, yeah,” I told him.

“Remember the power counters? Over 9000 and all that?”

“Yeah, I remember.”

“There’s no such thing. There’s no way for other people to sense your power out of hand. No all-powerful ‘analyse’ ability to target others with. The only way you can take the measure of people is if they draw on their Sigil and manifest their abilities. That can give you a clue to the amount of power at their disposal. There are other indicators, but they’re not important at this stage.”

“Okay, so don’t flaunt your power willy-nilly and be wary of everyone you meet, basically.”

“Exactly. There’s been a trend among younger Sigil Holders to bare themselves when they meet, but it’s all bluster and posturing,” Colson said derisively.

I thought about their words for a minute. If they were right, I had the aptitude to become a mage—a Sigil Holder—and do magic. A need I hadn't experienced before surged through my body.

“And you’ll swear the oath right now?”

“We will, you should be able to feel the aether we'll use, with your foundation established.”

Without warning they suddenly began speaking at the same time.

“I swear on my life and the power of my Sigil that I will not communicate the specifics of Ethan Margrave’s soul and Sigil to any other being, alive or otherwise, on pain of torment and death. Thus seen, thus heard, thus spoken. Thrice and bound, the compact is sealed.”

Power suddenly hummed in the air, a tension of promise, waiting for something. I realised what I had to do.

“Thus seen, thus heard, thus spoken. Thrice and bound, the compact is sealed,” I said loud and clear.

There was a thrum of tension in the air, and I could feel something swirl and constrict around their chests. The feeling was a mixture of restriction, limitation, and punishment, and instinctively I knew, they were telling me the truth.

Despite everything, I felt touched by their gesture. Their oath and honest explanations so far made the resentment I held dwindle. Sure, it may be the least they could do, but they weren’t obligated to and that meant a lot to me. Right then, I decided to forgive them for what they’d done last night. Maybe I was too rash in my decision, but I stood by it.

“Thanks,” I murmured, and they both just smiled at me in reply.

“One last thing,” there was one thing I needed for them to clarify.

If they knew what might happen to me, why had they lied about it when I’d asked if I’d be in danger or would be forced to do something I didn’t want to?

“I think, young one, that you will find we never lied,” Imara smirked at me.

“What, but—”

“You were never in any danger, kid," Colson sounded smug, "any life-threatening issues and Imara’s Blessing would heal you right up. You know that. You felt it. If the ability had triggered earlier, I’d have stepped in and kept you safe and we’d have to try something... else. Imara and I talked it over and sure, we had to hurry, but we agreed that a couple more hours wouldn’t change anything. And you were never in my way, in fact, I deliberately took the investigative approach to wear the block down, so to speak. Adversity does not necessarily danger make.”

“If you recall, I did not promise you would not have to do anything you would be against, I only said I hoped it would not be the case. And if you search yourself, were you really against disposing of that despicable creature?” Imara inquired.

Well, shit. They’d gotten me on technicalities. That was slightly humbling, and I’d have to be careful about my phrasing in the future. Eat your heart out, Archer.

When I thought about it, I wasn’t exactly glad that I’d been the one to kill the empousa, but seeing what it had done, I didn’t regret it.

Thinking about the aftermath of the fight and how I was feeling right now, I realised that a vindictive sort of justice accompanied my conflicting emotions. I hadn’t enjoyed it, thankfully. It had felt repulsive, but I didn’t feel the soul-crushing despair I would have expected from killing, well, any humanoid.

“What would’ve happened if the empousa and I hadn’t killed each other?” I blurted suddenly, having latched on to that part of the explanation.

Imara and Colson looked at each other before she spoke.

“Then Colson would have needed to step in and kill you. A much less preferable method. It is rarely possible to salvage a relationship after that.”

“You’d do that to me?” I asked him, shocked.

“I would,” he said sadly. “Kid, you had to die to release the block. If that’s what it would take to save you, I’d do it in a heartbeat. You wouldn’t have felt a thing, but there’d always be a lingering resentment between us, and I’d hate that.”

I didn't know what it was about the way they told me this. If it was the fatigue, my mind still trying to process everything they’d told me, or something else, but weirdly enough I didn’t hold it against them. I just felt tired.

Moving on I decided to move past the subject since it made them, and me, uncomfortable.

“I still think it's all insanely strange, but in a twisted kind of way, I believe you when you say you had my best interest at heart. There are still a lot of things I need answers to—”

“And you’ll get ‘em, kid, with time," Colson interrupted. "What we’ve told you is still a lot to process and if we don’t start addressing your traumas soon, there might be physical or psychological issues in your near future. We’ll get to that over the next couple of days.”

“I feel fine right now,” my statement sounded naïve to my ears.

I didn’t particularly want to talk about my feelings, my past, or relive the killing more than I already did.

“The key words being ‘right now’. As I said earlier, there are ways to process these things, so you don’t end up as a, what’d you call it, ‘gibbering mess’. It’s not as lengthy a process as you might think if you do it right,” Colson explained. “But we’ll get to that. Before we do, you need to decide how you wanna proceed.”

“I have a choice? Earlier you said that I wouldn’t get to go home. If you swore an oath like this to my father, then I can understand the need to keep me around though.”

Colson looked as if I’d struck him.

“The deal I made with your father isn’t the reason I wanna help you out, Ethan. It’s because you’re a good kid, and I like you. Sure, I gave him my word, and I’ll stand by it, that I’ll watch over you until you turn eighteen, but it was just that. Words. If you’d been a spoiled obnoxious brat, I’d still have fulfilled my obligation to your father, but it would’ve been a minimum effort on my part.”

He took a breath, considering before he continued.

“I’ll help you out going forward for the next six months, not out of obligation, but because I want to. So if you wanna head out and finish school, or get a job, then I’ll help you and watch over you. If, on the other hand, you want to explore what this world has to offer, and what you can do, we’ll do that instead. That’s what friends are for.”

Now it was my turn to look stricken. Friends. It was a foreign concept to me and one I’d longed for, for a long time. Growing up with only mom, my instructors, and Hagen for company, I’d watched in envy when the other boys at the boarding school had played together or simply enjoyed each other’s company. Maybe I was being naïve, but it resonated with me, and I felt happy at his words. Searching myself one last time I cemented that I believed what they’d told me. All of it.

“You did say this world doesn’t let go easy,” I stated.

He blew a long breath out through his nose.

“That’s true, I did say that. Only because it’s my experience that when people get a taste of what they can do, they become eager for more. Maybe you’d stumble across a way to manifest your Sigil on your own down the line and then decide you want to pursue it, or maybe you don’t want to at all. But honestly, I figured we might as well get a head start. If that’s what you want.”

It was what I wanted. I wanted magic. Curiosity won out over caution. I could take the safe road and keep living a normal life, or I could explore what this hidden side of the world had to offer.

“I’ll do it,” I told them with conviction.

“Great—” he started.

“On two conditions.”

“Name it.”

“If I’m with you and I’m ever in a similar position where my life is in danger or on the line, I wanna know what I’m going into and why.”

“Done.”

“The other is less serious. You need to shelve serious Colson and bring odd Colson back. He’s way more fun.”

“HAH!” he slapped the table and grinned at me.

“That’s not even a condition, kid. I can guarantee that he’ll return with a vengeance."

Imara had been very quiet, but I figured she was letting Colson do the talking since he was the one I’d be running around with. I smiled at them, my mood improved.

“So, what’s next?”