Arakiel followed the Godsbinder up through another set of fairly mundane corridors and stairways that made him wonder whether truly powerful people ended up disregarding the need of showcasing wealth or power for it was beneath them.

The inventory here could’ve belonged to any Kalanite citizen and while the inventory’s materials and shapes were pleasing to the senses, they weren’t particularly expensive or fancy – the stuff Arakiel had at home was more luxurious as Aurora had more or less redecorated the entire main floor after Mari’s departure.

It made him wonder whether the tales of extravagant furniture, inventory or other naara-fueled devices were all just a hoax or whether Rakim was a particularly frugal individual. Even his clothes seemed so mundane – or maybe that was all part of his act.

He wondered how many people here knew that they were living next to someone that had been around when the Old Order crumbled.

Arakiel had not known before his mother graced him with the knowledge… but he wasn’t a particularly good measurement tool in these regards.

All that presumption not only changed the moment he entered Rakim’s workshop, it was downright shattered.

The workshop was on the highest floor just below the flat roof and although it consisted of several rooms, it took up the entirety of the floor.

Rakim had divided it into different chambers depending on what kind of work he needed to perform, such as planning, smelting, forging, refining and finishing – and while the walls and floor were still of a fairly normal character, the items he used were not.

It wasn’t visible on the first glance as the pieces were quite literally dormant – but they awakened as soon as Rakim brought forth a grand total of thirteen tiny motes of golden light… thirteen sparks of divinity. The pinnacle of what could be achieved – something only the heads and primary consorts of the Heptarchy had achieved.

Every single divine spark was precious and held untold power. To properly use one was to lose it forever – and that’s all the information demigods and -goddesses shared on the subject.

There was most certainly a way to regain lost sparks, but the means by which that happened were shrouded in well-cultivated mystery.

The most common perception was that demigods could rob other demigods’ sparks and make it their own… others claimed that massive offerings to the Transcended were necessary to regain his favor whereas others told of hidden quests or items that could restore lost sparks.

In Kalanaar, the most common perception that had been nurtured lay on the slaying or taming of powerful immortals for the good of mortalkind.

The environment seemed to sense Rakim’s shards, for it sprang to life as soon as they appeared from his right arm which they began to coil around in a perpetually moving motion.

Meanwhile, every single item in here, from the lowliest quill over the lighting crystal all the way to the tools, began to radiate a low and very faint hum of gold, showcasing that just about everything in here had been fashioned from godgold, the most valuable material in all the planes.

Even the counters, benches and tables on which Rakim seemed to perform his crafts had been infused with naara, which was truly extravagant to the extreme.

What was even more surprising to Arakiel was the lack of naara-plates to activate or fuel these devices – it was almost like Rakim’s very presence was enough to do so.

The demigod beckoned him towards a rather large chamber that was undoubtedly used to plan and sketch any projects he might have.

Stacks of vellum, paper and all other kinds of mediums on one which could write were arranged on one side of the room while the opposite side held a nigh uncountable amount of books of all shapes and sizes – and even they were thoroughly infused with naara judging by the low golden hum.

The large central table was surprisingly empty, but only until the demigod waved with his hand, causing all kinds of pens and paper to float over there alongside while several chairs began to float in from the side.

“Welcome to my domain,” the Godsbinder said and when he turned towards Arakiel, his eyes’ irises glowed with an intense golden sheen. “This is the place where Rakim the Smith creates marvels of legend – a place that only very few people get to witness. Consider yourself honored, son of Alexandria.”

Arakiel, awestruck as he was, found it hard to find a proper response, merely nodding in reverence.

The demigod gestured him to sit down while he took a seat in the very air on the opposite side of the table, at which point he spoke up.

The golden glow gave him an otherworldly appearance, one of a being of pure, unfiltered power.

“If I am to fashion you a soulsparked link as per Alexandria’s instructions, then I will need some information,” the demigod laid out. “As a leading planeswalker and son of Alexandria and Erythrai, am I correct to assume that you participate in all combat scenarios?”

“That assumption is correct,” Arakiel answered, not mentioning the fact that there were too few people for him to sit out.

The more he thought about it, the less sense his refusal to become a leader meant. He couldn’t always rely on local forces.

“Am I correct to assume that you’ve experienced all roles and distances of low-level planeswalking combat?” The demigod queried once more and just like earlier, Arakiel affirmed.

“Which weapon would you say is the one you’re most familiar with?”

“Undoubtedly a sword that I can wield with one or two hands.” Arakiel answered, adding. “Looks the best, too.”

“Given the variety your class offers… which role do you prefer?”

Yet again, Arakiel didn’t need to think for long. “That of an Evoker with bits of being an Alterator.”

“Which paths are you most aligned with?”

“Fire, Air and bits of Astral.”

“You’re using all paths – that’s a good start. Which of these do you use most often?”

“Fire.”

“Does your immortal actively participate in combat.”

“Not if I can prevent it.”

“Can you fly?”

“I cannot.”

“Can you shadowstep?”

“I can blink, but it’s very taxing.”

Their talks about Arakiel’s style of combat went on for a good long while and Aurora and Mellia only joined just as they finished, which he found most suspicious. He could only assume that Rakim had signaled Aktaie in some fashion, yet all of these thoughts were so very unimportant when he beheld his feathered golden-eyed love – and how her golden irises seemed to gleam in Rakim’s presence.

And the outfit that someone had somehow fashioned for her in a matter of moments – it was immaculate and most lovely to behold.

Aurora wore sleeveless black sundress with a relatively high cut that still managed to accentuate her slender, petite physique. It was covered with with golden, floral embroidery and its overall length reached just above her knees – but the sheer-yet-elegant simplicity paired with her long golden hair and – admittedly – the sizable iridescent opal that dangled in between her breasts – perfection.

He got up and hugged her straight away while ensuring one of their hands locked fingers. He took in the wondrous vanilla with the faintest smell of rose but he didn’t even mind anymore.

Just feeling her, smelling her and taking her in – and the fact that she seemed so pleased about him embracing her… it all elevated him.

Mellia observed him with her daring dress from the side even if she demonstratively looked away when she noticed him noticing her. Granted, she was more taken in by the surroundings which seemed to leave Aurora surprisingly cold even if her body still exuded a gentle warmth.

His little seraphine – just the mere sight lifted his spirits, making him nearly forget about the shameful display he had seen earlier.

After a little bit of intimacy, the most daring of which was a fleeting kiss that she planted on his lips, the two turned to face Rakim whose expression was unreadable, yet the gold in his eyes reminded him of Aurora somehow.

“You know,” Arakiel began as his very self felt embolded by Aurora’s presence. “You still haven’t told me what a soulsparked link is… nor did my mother deem it necessary to inform me.”

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

The demigod beckoned his Divine Offering over towards him after which he raised his hand while ‘standing up’ from his floating position.

Within a few heartbeats, a deeply crimson spectral weapon manifested above his palm, floating in mid-air. It had the shape of a small hammer whose ‘insides’ were dotted with myriad small golden motes that seemed nearly suspended, offering only very little movement.

It reminded him of the stars on the night’s canvas condensed into a small object, an object that radiated power with its entirety.

“This is my Runelord’s insignia,” Rakim explained as he grabbed the spectral hammer. It seemed to have a solid form even if it didn’t appear as such. “It’s proof of my status as a crafter that caught the Transcended’s eye.”

The Godsbinder then held out his free hand towards his Divine Offering whose irises began to gleam with a soft golden sheen as well.

Arakiel noticed her blushing, which was the first proper emotion she had shown thus far, yet he still wasn’t quite sure what this spectacle was supposed to do.

There was no further need to impress them.

“The gold that you see encased in my insignia – it’s Aktaie’s… it’s proof of her devotion to me. You could also call it a link that’s been sparked by her soul,” Rakim went on.

It was Aurora who spoke up, her lovingly sonorous voice brightening Arakiel’s mood even further, yet the contents of what she asked downright shocked him. “Why does your power – everything around here – feel so familiar to me?”

“That, my dear seraphim, is a question you should pose to the Transcended himself, for it is his power that we channel,” Rakim returned in no uncertain terms, and yet Arakiel wanted to guess that the Godsbinder knew much more than that.

It was certainly an oddity.

“It is the same power Aurore ay Elysia uses, yes?” His seraphine queried further.

A thin smile formed on Rakim’s lips. “Precisely – yet not quite accurate. But this matter will be of no concern to either of you for years. Instead, you should focus on the here and now.”

“I understand. In that case, will you answer my beloved’s question, Master Rakim?”

The Godsbinder threw him a small glance as if to test whether Arakiel was fine with her suddenly speaking up for him and when no reaction came, he let go of his Divine Offering while pointing the spectral hammer towards them – towards Aurora to be precise.

“In short, the soulsparked link will be the physical manifestation of your covenant.” Rakim summarized in an almost casual way that was in no way adequate for the kind of reveal that he had just laid out, nor the implications that it held.

Given the way Aurora’s wings suddenly began to flutter, she seemed very smitten with the idea, especially when she grabbed his hands while her face beamed pure joy at him.

“Isn’t that amazing!?” She asked out loud whereas Mellia didn’t seem surprised in the slightest, which in turn surprised Arakiel a little.

Had Alexandria given them different information?

The thought went as quickly as it had come, leaving room for much more important considerations.

“How would that even work?” Arakiel heard himself ask as his mind tried to process what he had just heard.

“It’s rather simple in theory, albeit extremely difficult and downright impossible without the addition of a spark of divinity,” Rakim went on to explain and although Arakiel had already known that whatever his mother had planned for him would include one of the very bloody damned Godsbinder’s sparks, he was still struck anew.

This was surreal to the point where he figured he might wake up at any moment.

“A soulsparked link is a physical device that is connected – or rather, linked – to both of your souls. With it, one will be able to harness one’s immortal’s power in a fashion that is wholly different from the way you’re doing it now.” Rakim elaborated further.

“It’ll be your scepter of authority, my beloved Monarch-to-be!” Aurora went on in a giddy manner. She seemed barely able to hide her excitement which was almost infectious.

From the side, he heard Mellia comment in a soothingly affectionate tone. “Thine future seems quite bright, brother mine.”

“How so?”

“I will explain the intricacies when the device is done. Only know that you will find it invaluable in any endeavors you plan for the future, although it can only amplify your skill, it cannot replace it.”

“It still sounds oddly vague.” Arakiel noted with caution because something inside him couldn’t accept this outcome. What exactly did his mother plan?

“How is it vague?” Aurora chimed in, having obviously brushed aside any and all doubts, if she ever had any. “You already wield my power in such a natural fashion – whatever he crafts for us will be just as easy for you.”

Arakiel wanted to object that statement, for weaving with sigils was anything but natural, even if he occasionally had to rely on instinct. That usually cost him dearly, though.

The craftsman lightly spun his hammer around, chuckling. “To think that an immortal has more confidence in men then a mortal. Amusing, but honestly insignificant. More important is the following question that you should ponder on right now, for we need to decide this right now and the answer will be a prerequisite to everything else.”

Rakim lightly flicked his hand which caused tiny golden motes to suddenly form all around them. “What shape do you intend to have for your link?”

With another of Rakim’s motions, the motes began to move about and gather where they then formed into a little orb that was larger than Arakiel’s hand.

“Is the physical shape permanent?” He queried straight away.

The demigod nodded as he guided to golden motes to form the shape of a blade’s hilt. “The device itself will be physically present until you’re able to house sparks of divinity in yourself… which as you can imagine only happens when you ascend to godhood.”

A brief pause as if he waited for a comment or two, but when none came, the man continued. “But it is certainly possible to make extensions using your immortal’s soul. Say for example, I fashion a hilt like this. You will be able to create and change the blade’s shape depending on your needs, although your mastery over the soul arts will determine what kind of shapes are possible.”

With another wave of his hand, the hilt changed to a cylindrical shape. “Alternatively, I could fashion another kind of grip: you would be able to form a shaft for a quarterstaff, a spear and so on – or even a bow.”

“What if I sought a wand to amplify my spells?” Arakiel asked since he suddenly felt as though he couldn’t really make a choice this easily.

After all, it’d pretty much determine his path forward.

“Then you would squander this device’s potential,” Rakim told him straight up. “Why fahsion a wand when you can simply strike spells into existence as soon as your mastery is sufficient? Your advantage as a Mortal Ascendant is your flexibility. You’re not bound to a single style of combat unlike say, a strength-based melee combatant who will only ever excel in melee in accordance to his class. Even a dexterity-intelligence based spellblade type which would be considered a class that’s fairly capable of dealing with many situations will cannot match an immortal’s ingenuity.”

“I don’t think I can make this decision right away.” Arakiel admitted as his mind began to bounce several ideas.

The demigod nodded, chuckled. “I understand… but heed my words. While there are immortals who rely on the brute strength of their souls, most win through their near-infinite amount of tools at their disposal. It is something the Class System tried to replicate with the sheer abundance of different classes, but it is simply unable to combine them like immortals can. Even we who carry the sparks of divinity are still bound by this, even much less severely.”

Arakiel couldn’t speak for true high level combat, but he definitely agreed on immortal magic being extremely flexible compared to the rather strict ways that spells worked.

“Nonetheless, I will need some time to think and ponder,” Arakiel admitted as he turned to Aurora. “It is not a decision that is to be made lightly.”

“Take all the time you need my love,” his seraphine said affectionately, yet her voice betrayed that she seemed more reserved – or maybe she was also thinking about the issue. She might not be a fighter or possess much experience, but she was an immortal nonetheless.

Her advice might be invaluable in making one of the most important decisions in his life.

If his mother had sent him here to send him on a path that would see him excel in his House, then he would need to ensure that he did it correctly this time around.

The demigod nodded in approval. “Good – you should do that. Feel free to ask me. I have little knowledge of Mortal Ascendants, but I have fought several lifetimes worth of immortals.“

“Art thou not a crafter, Master Rakim?” Mellia queried in a most polite tone.

“Now why would I spoil the fun, little Lady Alexandrite?” Rakim answered, his voice holding clear traces of amusement. “You are correct in your assumption, but it’s only a fraction of the truth. Who knows, maybe you’ll find out more about me in the next weeks? I do enjoy the company of beautiful girls.”

The comment irritated Arakiel until he recalled just who he was dealing with right now and any statement he would make would not only be impotent, it’d be downright laughable.

Besides, Rakim had plenty from what he had seen thus far, and he was fairly certain that more people were living inside this house.

“Before we leave, I wanted to thank you for earlier, Master Rakim.” Arakiel said, feeling as though he should say so even if it earned him quite the curious glances from the two young ladies next to him.

“It was necessary – and more might still be. The issues you raised are concerning,” Rakim responded ambiguously once again. “But these are none of your concern for now. I will give you time until tomorrow noon, at which point I need to know so I can prepare in order to finish Alexandria’s task in time. Our time together will be short, so let’s make the most of it.”

“Couldn’t have phrased it better myself. We will be in your care, Master Rakim.” Arakiel responded after which he bowed as respectful as he could.

It still felt surreal, but it was the truth.

He would not only be staying at one of the Godsbinder’s abodes, he would actually obtain an item fashioned from a spark of divinity.

It was ludicrous, downright insane when he thought about.

And yet it was reality all the same.

Franky, he needed all the power he could get if he was to catch up to Nyanna.

He would not let his child – even if he didn’t want it – remain any more time than necessary in the seelie’s hands. He had seen how they regarded a life… and Arakiel wasn’t willing to find out whether Nyanna perceived their offspring any different.

No, that could not happen under any circumstances.

Feeling Aurora’s hands squeezing his tighter, Arakiel felt his resolve harden.

What had happened earlier – that was also a part of him.

Rakim sought to teach him that – of this, he had no doubt.

And through acceptance, he might be able to overcome it.

* * *