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The Xulaain Chronicler
9. A Pact, Sealed

9. A Pact, Sealed

You stand frozen under this creature's eyeless stare. You want to run, scream, hide; anything, but you stay where you are.

"And now I ask: What would you choose?" He asks.

You try to form words, but nothing comes forth immediately. Finally, you manage a response, "What is it that I'll gain by giving you my soul?"

"As I said... You will receive a Token." He starts, "Your good friend L'Neeri has one-"

"Don't bring L'Neeri into this!" You blurt.

"With the Token I give you, you will become a Branded One, as you humans call it, and you will gain the ability to manipulate Allegory. I will also aid you in the coming storm." He continues, his constant grin having subsided a little as if he was ever so slightly annoyed. "In return, I will gain access to your soul, and be able to read it, among a few other, insignificant, things."

You pause, just barely considering it. This Aarkiel, Tyrr'olni'nel'mul, or whatever he calls himself, is supposed to be incredibly dangerous, but he has done nothing that feels outright hostile. He looks terrifying and downright disgusting, but he has offered great power to you. You have seen what L'Neeri could do, even though you don't understand it. This "coming storm" feels really bad, and apparently, this Aarkiel could help you. You still have no idea what in the world "having access to your soul" meant, but it didn't feel too bad...

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"Fine."

"Oh? I wasn't expecting that! Very well, Nova Nix'arith, this next part might hurt a bit."

Suddenly, a stabbing pain erupts from your left hand. Burning, black lines suddenly appear on your palm. They slither up your arm, pulling the burning with them. When they reach your shoulder, the pain becomes unbearable, and you fall forward onto the floor. The burning continues as the lines converge on the nape of your neck, Tyrr'olni'nel'mul stares without reaction to your screams of pain, then suddenly, it stops.

Gone is the pain.

Silence.

You breathe heavily as you try to get up, your arms are weak, but you slowly manage.

"Rise, Nova Nix'arith, Branded One of Tyrr'olni'nel'mul!"

***

"Nova?" L'Neeri asks.

You jolt back to reality, looking around.

You are back. The multitude of streams of light cascades through the nigh-infinite leaves of your home. The canopy is so very far above you.

"Hey, Nova did you sleep well last night?"

"N-no?" you say, rubbing the nape of your neck. You can tell L'Neeri is unconvinced.

Poi'niuu looks annoyed. "We have been standing here for, I don't know, 20 minutes waiting for you L'Neeri? Let's go, I want lunch!"

"Same," T'Ervaa adds.

"Hold on, boys-" Melonaa starts.

"No! It's fine!" you blurt, cutting her off, "Let's go... Have lunch. I'm hungry too..."

You and L'Neeri make eye contact. Silently agreeing, "We will talk about this later."

A cool breeze blows through the uncountable branches of the Titan Tree as you walk with your friends to the reunion lunch for the group. L'Neeri is back, you remind yourself.

You feel an odd weight in your pocket.

Feeling it, you find a round, textured object that feels cold against your hand.

The Token.

"Later, you will deal with this later." You tell yourself.

Right now, just enjoy the moment.