"Do it before I change my mind."

 

There was no deeper conviction, once, than Peter's will to become stronger. 

 

But it had waned with time, as his body became more frail, as he went longer and longer without having made any discernable progress towards his goal… with time, it became easier to accept his ineptitude. Harder to fake his optimism. 

 

Now, though? That resolve had been rekindled in full, and flames burned through Peter's eyes with such intensity that they threatened to scorch away anything that laid between him and the next step on his path. 

 

Maybe Seles could see that, because she smiled at him. 

 

And it wasn't a sarcastic smile, or a sardonic one, or even a pitying, condescending smile that one might give to a silly child with dreams of becoming an astronaut or an acrobat or a writer. 

 

Rather, this was a smile that said 'okay, I'll give you what you want, if you're so sure'. 

 

And any need for further rationalisation was rendered moot. They were doing this. 

 

Peter almost couldn't believe it was actually happening. He hadn't wanted to pinch himself so badly since he got here. 

 

But Seles still felt the need to say one little thing. She placed a hand upon his cheek, smooth and warm. 

 

The sudden motion captured Peter's attention so intensely that he took a moment to register the words she spoke beyond their smooth, velvety texture. 

 

"This is going to hurt." 

 

Before Peter could react to the nonchalant declaration, it did start to hurt. It started to hurt a lot. 

 

His skin burned and his eyes lost focus, his mind tore and his body splintered. Peter fell and flailed upwards; what once was solid purchase on steady ground became a futile plight to find footing against the stubborn air as he felt his body begin to lift, up and up… 

 

Peter shook; Peter shivered. The only constant in his feverish struggle was the solid and fixed gaze of Seles as she continued to hold and caress his cheek, a tenuous lifeline, a promise of deliverance from the coming pain if he could only endure… 

 

It was going to get worse from here, he only knew it. But Peter was used to pain. Two years of this struggle and months of dragging this cart had conditioned his body to endure–it was all he could do not to fall apart. 

 

He stared into her eyes, looking for an anchor against the backdrop of madness, feeling patches of his skin ignite. 

 

What he found was anything but comforting. Thousands of runic symbols flashed across her eyes in dizzying, kaleidoscopic patterns as she recited words in a language he didn't understand, but did all the same. 

 

He couldn't make out a word, not really, but the tone of the message was clear. This was some ancient, dark, and powerful shit. 

 

He could only hope the reward was worth the pain. 

 

Peter wanted to scream. His lungs wanted to give out, to collapse entirely. Echoes of infinity sang against his ears as sections of his body began to break themselves apart like matchsticks, to unmake themselves before his bestower entirely, leaving him mangled and broken and wrong.

 

There was a moment in which Peter wondered if he'd been tricked. A fleeting instant instilled by agony, one where he contemplated a world of evil designed just for him, where his unlikely saviour sought to build his hopes up only to torture his body and break his spirit, to crush him and deny him of his dreams. 

 

But he could see in her eyes that there was no malice. For all the pain she put him through, her hand was soft and warm, her speech quiet and clear, her concentration unwavering and complete. 

 

And from his nadir, the unspoken place where the pain reached its pinnacle, where oblivion danced and pulsed in his periphery, and Peter finally felt as if he might snap and go completely, utterly mad… 

 

He finally, FINALLY felt the smallest iota of relief. His sprayed and broken limbs were being realigned, reaffixed, reforged. His limbs regained feeling and function, his eyes regained clarity, his senses made sense again…

 

The world seemed to take on a new sheen, if only for a moment. It was like glancing something ancient and unknowable, only from a position of such perfect clarity that it brought him from longing to understanding to fear to acceptance to calm in the span of less than a calculable instant. 

 

And as that moment passed, he forgot why he'd ever been so scared in the first place. 

 

His feet touched solid ground. He rolled his shoulders, thankful for the fullness of feeling in them both. 

 

He looked at Seles, adjusting to the pleasant feeling. 

 

She looked at him, head askew. "You okay? Don't need to throw up or anything?" 

 

Peter considered it for a moment, but he did feel okay. Still shook up, maybe, but he would hold onto his lunch. "Yeah, I'm fine. Why didn't you tell me it'd be–" 

 

"Don't. You literally told me not to tell you." 

 

"...okay. Fair point. Still could've told me."

 

She sighed, then began chuckling as she peered at him, watched him sway on his feet as if he were testing out a new body for the first time. "You handled it a lot better than I thought you would, if it helps."

 

That caught Peter off-guard. "Really? How do most people take it?" 

 

"A lot of screaming. Begging to be killed is pretty common. And some people reject the class altogether, if their self-preservation is too intrusive." She said it all so casually, as if she were reading off a shopping list. 

 

Shit. That was the scariest experience I've ever had, to think other people have had worse than me… "So why can I handle it, if I'm so much weaker than everyone else?" Peter frowned. "You'd think I'd be the perfect person to fail something like this." 

 

"Apparently, you're the perfect mix of determined and self-destructive to make a contract like this work for you." She grinned at him, Cheshire and knowing. "The pact doesn't care about your strength of body or your level. It only cares about what's in your spirit."

 

Peter hadn't had much time to think since the whole impromptu ritual began, but he was becoming increasingly aware of words like 'pact' and 'contract' being thrown around. It made the hair on his neck prickle. 

 

He pursed his lips, almost not wanting to ask. 

 

"Sooo, how's it feel being Soulbound?" 

 

For a moment, or perhaps a full minute, Peter's heart forgot to beat. 

 

THAT'S what I am?! 

 

"Y-you're serious, aren't you?" 

 

"What's got two legs and doesn't tell jokes?" 

 

Peter scratched his head. "...you?" 

 

She rolled her eyes. "No, because that would make this a joke, and I don't tell jokes. Keep up." Then, suddenly, magically, Seles was a cat again. The transformation was seamless. "So yes, I'm deadly serious. You're Paragora's latest Soulbound warrior. Congratulations.

 

"Well… you're Soulbound, at least. We can work on the 'warrior' part." 

 

Peter could feel a fresh chill running along his spine, crawling up his back. He didn't know what to say, what to think. He'd had some vague, superficial interest in dark magic over the last couple of years, but to think he was actually now a member of one of the most feared and secretive groups of fighters in this entire world was… 

 

"Is it true what they say?" His eyes narrowed—he made no attempt to hide his concern. "That Soulbound powers drive their users mad?" 

 

Seles the cat stretched out before him. "I don't know, do you think I'm mad?" 

 

The fact she sounded less like she was trying to disarm the notion and more as if she was genuinely pondering it was hardly reassuring. "I don't know what you are, honestly."

 

She shot him an amused glance before hopping up onto the cart. "You worry too much. Anything can drive someone insane, in theory. It's about knowing moderation, and figuring out what you can handle." She batted at her whiskers as she spoke to him. If anything her mental voice felt stronger since the change, more clear. 

 

Besides the intense pain of the process and the physical relief he felt after, this was the first tangible effect he'd really noticed. "So… what does it mean? Am I like your pet underling now, or something? That'd be ironic."

 

"Why would that be ironic?" When Peter didn't answer, she continued. "I don't know if 'pet' is the right word, though. I'm not your master, or anything crude like that. But we are linked. Not just to each other, but something greater."

 

Peter wasn't entirely sure he followed. In the back of his mind, he felt a new, dull ache beginning to develop, sapping him, but he couldn't determine if it was physical or mental. "Something greater?" 

 

Seles' tail flicked. "What do you know about the Soulbound? Other than your assumption we're all mad, of course." 

 

"That and other rumours. No one really knows much about them, just that they have crazy magical powers and can sacrifice people to become stronger. Also that they're made, not born."

 

Seles paused, looking as if she was considering her words, which was a new look on her. A serious, contemplative mein looked quite silly on a cat, honestly. She glared when he smirked at her. "I suppose that's all half right? We don't exactly sacrifice people, though…" She paused, reconsidered. "Well, most of us don't. I don't suppose I can account for every Soulbound, and it would make you stronger in theory."

 

 Peter listened, unsure whether to smile or frown. The feeling of finally having a class was elating, and yet… "So what exactly does a Soulbound do?" 

 

"We feed upon captured souls to sustain our forms, and use souls and other things as currency to bargain with the Patriarch in exchange for power and health."

 

Peter looked at her in both incredulity and shock. His mouth hung like a dilapidated postbox. 

 

She looked as if she wanted to retreat from his gaze. "Wh-what? That's totally not the same thing as sacrificing people! It's not! When Peter's wordless stare didn't falter, she physically scooted back from him. She almost appeared to shrink a little as her voice became more shrill. "L-Look… I tried to warn you that this wasn't a conventional class! I tried to tell you you might not like it!" 

 

"You 'try to tell someone' they might not like bungee jumping, or coleslaw, or the new Avatar movie. You don't try to tell someone they 'might not like' being a soul vampire! If you're offering to MAKE someone a soul vampire, you should hold up a big neon fucking sign saying 'hey, I'm gonna turn you into a soul vampire'!"

 

"Okay, I hear you! I'm sorry!" She backed up a little more as he spoke, like he'd pointed a vacuum at her. "I thought you really wanted a class and would take anything! I promise it doesn't mean that you have to do anything evil, stop jumping to conclusions!" 

 

It took Seles apologising for Peter to realise how strongly he was reacting. Part of him felt justified, but he also felt like a bit of a dick. He tried to step towards her, but she hissed at him. Vaguely cognizant of the fact she could likely skewer him with a thought, he chose to keep his distance. 

 

"You're right. I did ask for this, whether I knew what I was getting into or not. I didn't want you to tell me. I feel…" Peter felt for his hands, usually tremulous, but right now, uncharacteristically still. "I feel strange. I thought I was willing to do anything to get stronger, but the idea of being Soulbound scares me, I'll be honest."

 

"I'm sure an evil amulet would've made you do worse, if it didn't reject you," Seles countered. 

 

"It rejected me because it wanted a child's blood to unlock its power, and I said no." Peter thought about it a second longer, and despite everything, grinned. "I guess I can see where you got the impression I'd be cool with this." 

 

The morning summer sun beat down on the pair of them as they spoke, forest leering overhead. "Being Soulbound isn't so bad, I promise. There's a lot of cool benefits if you can handle the costs."

 

"The cost of killing people?" 

 

Seles ignored Peter's raised eyebrow. "Wouldn't you have killed people as an Outworlder hero anyways?" 

 

"Yeah! Bad people! I can probably live with that!" 

 

The cat wrinkled her nose. "Then… kill bad people as a Soulbound? I don't see the difference." She leaned back and shrugged her withers, too expressive for a animal. "Whatever. We can talk about this on our way to your job. I assume you were delivering something before mean bandit men tried to rob you?"

 

"Oh shit oh fuck the fucking delivery fuck fuck."

 

Her tail swished, as if to say 'thought so'. 

 

"Fucking fuck." With everything that had happened, Peter didn't think he could be blamed for forgetting about his job for a moment, but this was reality. He didn't just pull a weird mysterious class he didn't understand AND win the lottery on the same day, he still needed to keep this job if he didn't wanna end up homeless within the week, and that meant getting these crates delivered on fucking time, or as close to as possible. 

 

"Shit." Peter checked the horse was properly fastened and double checked the supplies all seemed secure. He could find out about ancient powers and becoming a magic leech ONCE he was on the road again, and not a minute before. 

 

When he was finally ready to leave, Seles was once again a human, standing in front of the horse and barring its way. 

 

"What? What is it?" 

 

Seles pointed to the dead bandit laid on the ground. "Him. You contributed to the kill, so you're entitled to a portion of his soul."

 

Peter remembered the pathetic lightning bolt he'd shot at him, probably enough to singe chest hairs, then shuddered as he began to recognise the gravity of what Seles was saying. 

 

"I don't want it."

 

She blinked twice. "I'm sorry, what? I thought your moral hangup was with killing innocents?" 

 

"It's not about that!" Peter tried to rationalise with himself, but his stomach soon churned. "I don't wanna eat a guy's soul, okay?" 

 

Seles stepped out from in front of the horse, walking over to the body. She flicked her fingers, and a pale, aqua substance drifted away from the body and coalesced with her body, becoming transparent and then invisible. Her hair, still looking like a blanket of starlight, seemed to grow a tiny bit brighter. 

 

Are those… souls, in her hair? 

 

Curiosity and fear were strange bedfellows. The last of the mist dissipated, and Seles moved to sit on the back of the cart. "I'll hang onto your portion for when you want it, then. You'll need to have spare energy to give to the Patriarch anyways, and it's better it comes from a soul other than yours." 

 

"I'll need to?" 

 

Yay. This class was becoming better and better already. 

 

"The pact states you consistently feed energy to the Patriarch."

 

Peter endeavoured to get the horse moving as she spoke. If he took any more gut punches right now, he'd never get moving. 

 

The sun was scorching, and finally touching shade was a welcome reprieve. Finding out he had a constant energy debt to something other than his existing ailments was far less welcome. 

 

"In exchange, the Patriarch gives you limited access to the well of energy the Soulbound call theirs, as well as the grimoire."

 

That word rung a bell. "The grimoire?" 

 

"Yeah. In other words, the accumulated knowledge and secrets of the entire Soulbound collective, available for you to access and learn as you progress. You'll have one in your system already."

 

…he didn't wanna admit that that sounded awesome, but he was already tearing through his system and sure enough, under his [Notes] section there was an entry that read [Soulbound Grimoire]. He selected it without hesitation, and almost let the massive, black, blue, and purple book that appeared before him fall right through his hands. It was much lighter than he expected for its size. 

 

He marvelled at the thing as he sat on the cart. It was huge and intricately detailed, covered in twisting and winding symbols he couldn't interpret, as well as strange circles and stars that almost seemed to shine like they were real. 

 

"Yup, that's the one. Yours is pretty. It's bound to your system, so you'll never lose it or tear it, and no one can steal it from you. Only other Soulbound can even see it, which is neat too."

 

Okay, Peter couldn't deny it anymore, this was pretty damn cool. Grinning openly, he dove in, eager to see the contents that filled this tome which must've been a thousand large parchment pages or more. To think what he might uncover here, he might even find the cure for his affliction, or his level cap! 

 

But as he opened the book, he found the pages to be… Empty. There was nothing there. 

 

He felt a pain in his shoulder. He ignored it. Why was there nothing there?

 

What started with biting his lip graduated to visibly scowling as he tore through page after page of the grimoire just to find more of the same nothing waiting for him on every page. He closed the book and reopened it, hoping it to be a trick, but to no change. "Hey, what the hell? What gives?!" 

 

"The grimoire is tailored to you," Seles replied sagely. "It won't tell you what you don't already know or give you what you don't need without good reason, but it won't give you the answers to everything either. It's there to help you discover your own path. Mine didn't start with much in it either."

 

With that, she pulled out her own grimoire, which was blue and green. When she opened it, Peter was shocked to see that almost a third of the massive pages were often filled in with writing dotting them in random places, in varying fonts and sizes, but similarly dismayed to find that none of it was in a language he could read. 

 

Peter growled. "Yours didn't start with much? Mine didn't start with anything! I feel completely scammed right now."

 

"i highly doubt it has nothing in it. Check through the pages carefully. All of our journeys begin somewhere. At your level, you'll be learning ways to advance your skills and use new spells, including some that should be out of your reach by normal means. The grimoire is powerful. Eventually you'll be learning potent enhancements, compound skills, spells that defy human imagination, and maybe even unearthing the mysteries of the universe itself, if you survive that long. Fun stuff!"

 

She sounded genuine about it, and Peter would do his due dilligence and check through to see if the book was hiding a passage or two for him somewhere, but he couldn't help but feel dejected. He slowly flitted through thick, empty pages. 

 

"Whatever. This book is bullshit."

 

Seles blew air out of her nose. "Yeah, sure it is. My book told me everything I needed to save your life earlier. I guess that was 'bullshit' too."

 

He wasn't sure he'd heard her swear before. It was a funny experience. Still, he got what she was putting down. 

 

He shook his head, vaguely aware of his fingers beginning to grow numb from the repetitive page flipping. "No, the book isn't bullshit. Or yours isn't. Yours is awesome. I get that you saved me and I'm super grateful for that and I'm glad I have a class. I guess I just feel like the only thing that changed is that I have an empty magic book now. That and I apparently need to get on a soul diet. Still wrapping my head around that one."

 

He shook his hand, giving it a rest, but the finger numbness was back to stay it seemed. It was nice while it was gone. 

 

They passed through more shade as Seles fanned the arm of her blue dress as she laid back in the cart. "You said you'd be happy with a toilet cleaner class before. It feels like you shifted the goalpost since. Do you feel like you should be going out splitting skies and punching boulders in half now that you finally have a class? It's been ten minutes."

 

"N-no. I get what you're saying."

 

 "So you'll stuck with the book of infinite wonders, knowledge, and secrets and see what it gives to you, then? Or is that not gratifying enough for you?" 

 

Peter could feel his face reddening, and trying to ignore it didn't help. "I'll stick with the book…"

 

"I thought you might."

 

A little self-satisfied grin cemented that thought. They were quiet for a bit, Peter flicking through the grimoire as frequently as his hand felt up to it as they moved closer and closer to Craggor's Hill. 

 

After a couple hundred big blank pages, he asked: "What's your stake in all of this anyways? Why are you following me to my job?" 

 

"Other than curiosity about how you'll take to the pact?" Seles hmm'd, finger on her chin. "I don't know my way around this world yet. I figure a courier must have the lay of the land, and an idea of what's what here." 

 

"Within a five town area, sure. I don't think I'd be able to show you very far." 

 

 "Wellll, we'll cross the bridge when we come to it, or when someone more interesting comes along." She flashed him a grin, teeth lightly fanged. "But for now, you're my guide around Paragora, and I'm your guide around the basics of your class. And it's non-negotiable because without me you'd be dead in a week. Sound good?" 

 

"Sounds good."

 

Well, part of it sounded terrible. But he wouldn't complain about the company. 

 

Maybe it'd turn out to be more painless than he realised. 

 

//

 

The rest of the travel to Craggor's creek was fairly uneventful, other than Peter finally discovering a single entry about halfway through his grimoire! 

 

The text itself was in English, and it described a [Glamour] skill he could learn which would essentially allow him to assume the appearance of having other classes, as well as some very minor physical changes. 

 

When he asked Seles about it, she said she had no clue, but the grimoire rarely revealed entries without a reason, and she insisted it was probably worth picking up, because the soul cost was very cheap. 

 

But Peter had refrained out of reluctance to accept or handle dead bandit's soul. It still felt strange to use him to pay for something and he wasn't prepared to do that. 

 

There were alternate means of payment, however, listed as offerings. Amongst those, things that might be accepted included an opal of at least five grams or two pints of the Soulbound's blood. 

 

There were also a couple of offering examples which were blank. Peter realised that perhaps a person could even discover missing entries and recipes in this book if they only offered the right thing, with the only tradeoff being that they might have no clue what they'd get in return. 

 

Which, considering the nature of this all so far, sounded either incredibly fun or incredibly scary. Probably both. 

 

With no souls he was willing to spend and not looking to become a blood doner to the mysterious Patriarch, Peter had skipped out on [Glamour] for now. 

 

Surely that wouldn't come back to bite him. 

 

With the continuation of the journey came the cessation of relaxation and the resuming of regularly scheduled chronic numbness. Still Peter insisted he was fine, however, even as they tied up the horse, even as they entered the town and he pulled and dragged in the blazing sun against mutinous synapses to get his cart up the incline without passing out. 

 

Seles insisted he take a break at least, but eventually got bored of insisting and said she was gonna explore; she didn't feel like trekking up a hill if she wasn't getting a free ride in the back of the cart. 

 

When Seles left, Peter felt strangely alone, which was strange in of itself because he'd always been alone these last two years. He had so much to think about and contend with right now, but was currently too dizzy and fatigued to think about any of it. 

 

When he came out over the hill he arrived in the uptown residential district of Craggor's Hill, where his tawdry rags stood out beyond how they might usually in Bellstrow or Caltrox.

 

That being said, people would see the cart and know why he was here–none of the many guards were likely to interfere with him. 

 

Peter's destination was one of the larger manors in the area, one owned by some kind of noble or baron or lord, he wasn't sure. All he knew is he was here to deliver plates and candles. Typical shit. 

 

By the time he arrived, his chest was heaving. He patted his own forehead as he was waved into the manor's courtyard, fanned himself with his hand as he stood waiting to collect a signature and a bag of coins… 

 

It's so hot… 

 

Peter felt weak. His body felt frail. When he saw the servant come out to greet him, he barely managed to lift his hand to wave before he fainted. 

 

//

 

Lord Seldrow's steward had just finished heading outside to check on the morning delivery when the delivery boy promptly fainted. 

 

Well, that wasn't regular. Was it the heat? 

 

Peering through his glasses, the steward used [Identify] to try and determine what the issue with the poor whelp was. Probably malnourished by the look of him. 

 

As he read and interpreted the system feedback he received from his scan, his lips spread in a wide, wide smile. 

 

His lord would certainly be happy with this one… it was moments like this that the man felt proud to have such a proficient rank in [Identify]. This might have slipped past a lesser man. 

 

Who would've expected a Soulbound to wander right onto their property, gift-wrapped no less? 

 

Calling for guards, he had the boy dragged to the basement, leavr to inform his lord at once, cart and delivery remaining in the courtyard, silent and unattended.