"Still busy working, Robbie?" Sara asks as she trots into my room in the penthouse apartment, "I've never seen you study so hard before."

"That's because I'm not studying." I stifle a yawn, looking up from the pile of open books messily arranged on my table, "I'm doing research."

Tiredly arranging the copious stack of notes I had been making, I decide that Sara's impromptu visit's a good chance for me to take a break. The box full of tarnished silver relics I had received from Vekselberg doubles as an effective paper weight, helping me secure the heap of loose papers I had spent the last few days pouring all my concentration into. I throw myself onto the comfy bed Paul had supplied me with, sighing in relief as the tension oozes out of my body. 

"They're pretty." Sara comments as she holds one of the silver badges to the light, "Your grandfather was considerate to leave such nice things for you."

"That lawyer said the relics are mostly worthless." I stare up blankly at the ceiling, lying through my teeth, "Too much damage. Grandpa was careless about preserving them."

"Its the thought that counts." Sara reminds me, setting the badge back down on the table. 

"You don't understand." I shake my head, "The antiques mean nothing by themselves. What matters is the promise I made with grandpa when I accepted his gifts."

Of course I haven't told Sara anything about the phial of blood that grandpa bequeathed to me. The blood of a soul mage. Like grandpa said, there's power in his gift to me. But I'm not messing around with it until I know exactly what I'm getting myself into. There had to be a reason why dad told the old man to piss off all those years ago. And as far as the promise I made to a dead man? Well, grandpa can't exactly call me out for taking my time now, can he?

Even now, I can sense the phial of blood thrumming away in the dark corner of the room its been hidden in, demanding that I fulfill my side of the bargain. To accept the family legacy completely, with whatever baggage that may come along with it. 

"Promise?" Sara asks in befuddlement as she scans through the books littering the table, "Is that why you've been reading up on old knightly families?"

"Something like that." I sit up straight and begin popping my toes, "Researching the heraldry on the silver was an obvious step to take. And, well, the answers I was looking for came pretty quickly after that."

"So what's the deal your grandfather had roped you into?" Sara spins to face me with stars in her eyes, "Are you secretly the lost heir of a knightly house?"

"Jeez, no need to get so excited." I grumble good naturedly at my friend. 

"I can't help it!" Sara nearly starts bouncing on her feet, "First I find out that Paul is a super important soul mage hiding his past from us. Now Robbie's telling me that he might be a member of the chivalry."

"When you put it that way ..." I mutter, reluctantly agreeing with Sara's assessment. Our lives have taken a huge turn for the dramatic, that's for certain. 

"Some days when I wake up in the morning," Sara muses as she looks out of the window, enjoying the panoramic view of the cityscape, "I feel like all this is a dream."

"How so?" I fold my arms and regard Sara evenly. 

"I was just a regular student, going to school, living my life." Sara sighs and looks back at me, "Now I've been swept away by a handsome prince, living in his castle alongside the prince's loyal knight."

"Interesting way of describing my relationship with Paul." I guffaw at how cringe Sara's becoming. 

"You do call Paul your boss, Robbie." Sara smirks back.

"Fair enough. And I'm the heir of precisely nothing." I shrug with exaggerated indifference, "All the books tell me that the knightly house I supposedly belong to is long, long dead."

"You've got that deed to an estate though, right?" Sara begins searching through the stacks of books for that ancient parchment grandpa left me. 

"The country my estate's supposedly in no longer even exists." I remark dourly, "I'm the lord of fuck all, other than the expectations grandpa has placed upon me."

"Oh, that seems like a bit of a downer." the wind promptly goes out of Sara's sails at this revelation. 

"Grandpa wanted someone to revive our house," I vocalize my suspicions, "and dear old dad felt that was an idle hope. So the two of them quarreled and fell out over it." 

"Have you asked your parents about this?" Sara takes a seat and folds her legs up to her chest. 

"I tried to but the ion storms have cut off communications with the rifts." I quirk my mouth, "So all I've got is my own research at the moment."

"Yeah. Forgot about the ion storms for a moment there." Sara nods along, "Hope it doesn't delay our own camping trip."

Honestly, I've been wanting to talk this incident over with my parents for quite some time already. I'm confident in my assessment of the situation but some confirmation wouldn't hurt. And more importantly, I want to know why dad refused the frankly completely awesome power of a soul mage that grandpa had offered to him. Though I suppose dad got the offer when grandpa was still alive, so the pressure to conform to the old man's expectations of how that power should be used would be on a whole different level. 

Given how controlling the old man is in death, I wouldn't be surprise dad was presented with a laundry list of demands alongside the phial. 

"So. dig up any interesting stories about your family?" Sara's voice brings me back to the present. 

"A few," I rub my head, slightly embarrassed, "though I don't know whether I can claim any real connection to those guys in the books. I'm several generations removed from them."

"I know you're interested in them all the same." Sara points out, "You wouldn't be making so many notes otherwise."

"Really hate it when you're so observant." I grunt and lie back on the bed in defeat. 

"Spill Robbie. I'm interested in hearing those stories too." Sara insists. 

"There's not much I can tell, at least in detail." I frown in thought, "My family served as soldiers and bodyguards for a more powerful house. A bad war sent us into a downward spiral which we never recovered from. And after that we disappear from history."

"That's pretty sad." Sara commiserates sincerely. 

"Well, what can you do?" I reply, "That's all in the past now."

"And now I know for certain that you're related to this knightly house." Sara's good cheer returns and she smiles at me. 

"How so?" my eyebrows furrow at her declaration. 

"Isn't that what you've been doing all along?" Sara tilts her head, "You were a leader of a gang. Became Paul's loyal friend. I even heard you saying to Yvonne that you would protect Paul to the end."

"You heard that?" I flush with embarrassment, "I thought I was alone in the car with her at that time."

"Oh? Well that means you must have said it at least twice." Sara's smile becomes wider by the second, "I heard you saying those vows after Yvonne brought you all those books."

"Oof." I recoil from Sara's riposte. Really hate it when she's so observant at times like these.

 "And what's this about being alone in the car with Yvonne?" Sara leans forward eagerly. 

"Hey, that's private." I scurry back on the bed like a cornered rat. 

"I sense heart pounding romance!" Sara trills excitedly, "No wonder the atmosphere has become happier lately!"

"Yvonne's been helping me with stuff." I mutter embarrassedly. 

"Robbie, everyone can tell Yvonne likes you." Sara says in a serious voice, "Please treat her right, ok?"

"I'm not comfortable with talking about such personal stuff." I fold my arms, "But, yeah, Yvonne and I, we're getting to know each other. We haven't gone any further than that."

"Are you intimidated because Yvonne's older than you?" Sara queries with a solemn expression. 

"Maybe?" I scratch my arm, "She's got more money and success than me at the moment. Makes for a strange dynamic."

"Paul's got more money and success than us." Sara points out, "I don't feel intimidated in the least. Neither do you."

"That's different." I protest. 

"Keep an open mind, Robbie. That's all I'm saying." Sara gently urges, "And I've got to get going. Catch you later."

"What's the rush? School's still out." I shoot back while getting back to my desk. Looks like break time is over. 

"I need to return some books I borrowed from the library." Sara calls back, "And unlike you, I don't have anyone to take me about in her car."

"Just ask Paul to let you use the driver." I respond, "He wouldn't object."

"The driver's gone. Paul and Yvonne are swapping out the entire security detail." Sara explains, "That's why they left the penthouse so early in the morning."

I blink in surprise at this information. Come to think of it, I've only seen Paul's maids about today. All the other staff attached to the penthouse have disappeared. 

"They're bringing in House Knights from the Old Country." Sara continues, "Straight from the estate of Paul's family."

"Wow. They're really taking the corp war seriously." I shake my head at this escalation. Things are likely to get spicy pretty soon. 

"Don't worry Robbie! Paul would never let go of his most loyal knight!" Sara's voice sings back before the penthouse's front door slams shut behind her. 

So things are going to come to a head soon. And whether I like it or not, I'll need strength to survive what's ahead. If only for the reason that by being Paul's friend, I'm guilty by association as far as Carl's family is concerned. And while Sara's joking about me being Paul's knight, I do take my role as his friend seriously. Unlike back in the school, I won't be able to hide from the incoming storm. I wearily peruse my notes one more time, my eyes falling upon the most important part of my research.

The ceremony of ascension. 

Only a very small number of people have the ability needed to become a soul mage. Yet a knightly family needed a reliable way of producing soul mages every generation. The solution to the conundrum was surprisingly simple. 

Blood is life. And from life springs power. 

The son drinks the blood of the father, awakening the soul that is shared between them. And the awakened soul is given purpose through the recitation of vows. A form of self hypnosis in other words. In the good old days, the ceremony would take place in the family's private chapel with pomp and ceremony. Thanks to the engravings left on the silver family heraldry grandpa left to me, I can put together a rough approximation of the vows used in our own family ascension ceremony. The worthless deed even has the full oath given by by family to the long dead lord who granted them the estate. 

The antiques were never worthless. It was just that their worth lay not in the silver. The blood and the heraldry needed to be used in conjunction with each other. 

If Paul and Carl could become soul mages at such a young age, I'm sure that its possible for me to do the same thing. After all, I have all the tools needed to perform a ghetto equivalent of the ceremony. It would however be far more dangerous, since there would be no one to guide me. I also have no guarantee that the heraldry or deed left behind by grandpa is an accurate representation of the vows needed to fully awaken the ancestral blood. 

I retrieve the phial from its hiding place, staring at it meditatively. Once I do this, there's no turning back. 

"Security is disappointingly lax here." 

My eyes widen at the squeaking noise coming from my desk. And the absolute last person I ever wanted to meet again barges once more into my life.

"Hello Robert." Maus greets.