M.S. Davidson
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67. Soul Burn
🕑 Added 2025-09-30 16:00:15 +0000 UTCAround us, confusion spread through the lounge like wildfire. Whatever Felix and Ferris had unleashed hadn't just affected the simulated arena—it had torn through the actual building itself. The illusion was gone. The damage was horrifyingly real.
I glanced up. The ceiling above us had been scorched and sliced clean through, as if the lightning had sheared it like paper. All around me, panic rippled outward as people from other floors reacted to the sudden mana drain. The air felt hollow—like the magical equivalent of a vacuum.
Cass stood nearby, her expression carved from stone. She said nothing, but I could feel her tension radiating like heat.
"If you'll all please make your way back into the Academy," a Sylvarus official called from the doorway, his voice tight with barely controlled alarm. "The arena requires immediate repairs. Oathbound investigators are reviewing the incident."
Thea stood immediately, her usual swagger replaced by something razor-sharp and focused. She began directing people toward the exits with a quiet urgency that made my stomach drop.
I moved toward Cass. She gave me a look that said she was holding it together through pure willpower and spite.
Katie, Red, and Malcolm fell in behind us as we joined the exodus.
But the second we crossed the threshold back into Sylvarus proper, the floor vanished.
My stomach lurched like I'd been thrown off a cliff. One breath I was in the hallway—the next, I stood in another chamber entirely, with Cass beside me and no sign of the others.
"What the fuck—" Cass started.
Ahead of us, Diana stood flanked by Sylvarus officials, all focused on a figure lying motionless on a marble table. Their hands formed complex mudras, and life mana flooded the air so thick I could taste it. Verdant runes pulsed above and around the bed, casting an ethereal green light that should have been beautiful but felt desperate instead.
The concepts screamed through the room in a dizzying cascade of heal and alive and don't you dare fucking die.
I didn't need Valor to tell me who was on that table.
Cass rushed forward, skidding to Erik's side, her usual composure cracking like glass. "Erik? Erik!"
He lay covered to the shoulders in a white sheet, the air around him trembling with healing magic. But something was wrong. The energy wasn't flowing into him—it was holding him, like a net preventing his soul from escaping.
Diana looked up, sweat beading on her brow, exhaustion etched in every line of her face. "Cassandra, darling... I asked Dara to bring you. Erik is alive, but he's badly wounded." Her voice caught, barely audible. "His heart stopped."
The words hit Cass like a physical blow. She recoiled, face going chalk white.
"You can help, right?" The desperation in her voice was raw. "Nana, please tell me you can help."
"I think so. The Oathbound have sent for their healers." Diana's response lacked her usual confidence.
I stepped closer, extending Valor instinctively. My aura passed over Erik, and ice flooded my veins.
He had no pulse. Zero. Nothing. But somehow, impossibly, he was still alive—like all the life mana in the air was acting as an external heart, keeping his spirit tethered when his body had given up.
The burns were extensive. Even through the sheet, I could feel the damage radiating like a heat signature. Full metal plate armor would have conducted the surge straight across his body. That Erik hadn’t disintegrated was a miracle on its own.
Diana and Cass were talking, but their voices faded into the background noise. I pulled my focus inward, diving into my soul-space, frantically calling for Ted.
"What can I do?" Panic crept into my mental voice. "I've got a life rune in my Seal. The refined mana—that can help, right? Right?"
Ted appeared instantly, his usual manic energy subdued, face thoughtful as he glanced toward where Valor stood silent in the doorway.
"What do you think, Kid?" Ted whispered. "You're the Paladin."
His words landed like a hammer blow. I'd figured out what made Valor tick, sure—but living up to the name? Actually being what the Seal demanded?
Time to find out.
I opened my eyes and looked at Erik. Through Valor, his wounds pulsed in my mind—loud, demanding, dying. I wasn't good with mudras like Diana or Malcolm. But maybe I didn't need to be.
Swapping armor for clothes, I walked to his side, ignoring the startled protest of a healer as I pulled back the sheet.
The sight underneath was brutal. Twisted flesh, blackened burns running so deep I could see bone.
Focus.
I placed my hands on his skin. The Devotion aspect of my Seal surged forward, and my mana plummeted as it poured into him. But it felt wrong—like energy splashing across a wall instead of sinking in.
But I wasn't looking to use just Valor. The sliver of refined mana that had been drifting through my pathways suddenly surged into my palms, pulled by the flow like iron to a magnet.
I gritted my teeth and pushed. Hard.
Unlike when I'd shoved energy into Winchester, or when the spirit test crystal had pulled it out, this felt like trying to press water through solid stone. A canyon seemed to separate where my hands touched Erik's body and where the healing needed to happen.
More. Push harder. Force the concept.
"Ben?" Diana's voice reached me, sharp with concern, but I couldn't afford to answer.
My mana drained fast—almost gone. In desperation, I triggered a mana burn.
The rush was immediate. So was the price.
Something deep inside me snapped. My reserves, my will, everything I had left surged forward in one final, desperate push. Blinding white light erupted from my hands like a solar flare.
Then the world tilted sideways.
Scorching heat raced across my chest. My head slammed against marble with a crack that made my vision stutter. Ears ringing, ceiling spinning, everything hurt in new and creative ways.
The Emberseed around my neck cooled, desperately trying to stabilize my pathways, but I felt the difference immediately. This time, it hadn't caught me in time. My reserves weren't just empty—they were gone. Whatever mana the artifact offered now was barely enough to keep me conscious.
But I forced myself to sit up anyway. My body screamed in protest, but I blinked past the pain, trying to focus.
Erik was sitting too, gasping like he'd just sprinted back from the afterlife. The sheet had fallen from his chest, revealing deep scars and pitted flesh that would never fully heal—but the burns were gone.
He was fucking alive. It worked.
I exhaled hard and collapsed back onto the marble, grinning despite the agony.
***
My focus drifted inward, and the moment I entered my soul-space, Ted was already waiting with a grin.
"Are you shitting me? Actual Lay on Hands?" He took a massive bite of what looked suspiciously familiar. "Still think Paladins are lame, though."
I blinked. "Is that my cheese bun?!"
Ted shrugged, crumbs cascading from his beard. He looked... different. Still rough around the edges, but less chaotic. Almost presentable, like he'd discovered soap.
"That's actual food, Ted! What the fuck!"
A quick inventory confirmed my worst fears. A disturbing amount of my carefully hoarded snacks had vanished.
No wonder he'd been so quiet lately.
I was about to unleash holy hell when something flickered at the edge of my vision. Valor stood in the doorway, but its usual solid presence had faded to a wavering outline. Only the Radiance rune at its core still burned bright.
Then I saw the actual damage.
The doors behind Valor, leading to my soul's courtyard, had been scorched. Blackened. Burned from the inside out, like something had detonated and scarred everything in its path. Deep grooves and cracks traced outward through the stone like a blast wave's impact crater.
The joy of healing Erik evaporated, replaced by cold understanding.
Everyone had warned me not to push too hard, not to mana burn until I advanced to Adept. But it hadn't really sunk in. I'd lived my whole life without mana—I hadn't grasped how fragile a Seal could be, or how much damage reckless burning could cause.
My Seal wasn't just strained. It had taken a massive hit. And the damage had spilled outward, tearing through the very foundation of my soul.
"Oh shit. I fucked up." I ran my hand across a gash in the stone. Winchester hummed agreement.
Ted shrugged. "Maybe. But you're the Runebinder here, not me. You saved your friend's life and proved something important while doing it." He seemed to calculate something. "Maybe don't try that again for a while, though."
"What do you mean, proved something?"
"Kid, you just scorched your own soul saving a friend. Sounds like a goddamn Paladin to me. Plus, you didn't see anyone else out there doing it."
I stared at Ted, who looked back while munching his stolen bun.
"That was... surprisingly insightful."
Ted looked hurt. "I'm a spirit guide, kid! That's my job. Your Seal's fine—just lay off the mana burning for a while. As for your soul, well..." He grinned. "Chicks dig scars."
I shook my head, but what he said resonated deeper than expected.
A strange sensation, like being submerged in warm water, washed over me as I returned focus to my physical body. My eyes shot open, and I gasped, realizing I'd been unconscious.
Staring down at me, disturbingly close, was a featureless white mask and black hood. Grace knelt beside my head in perfect stillness, her mask inches from my face. I could have sworn I felt her breath.
I didn't move. Part of me braced for her razor-edged aura to slice into me again.
Instead, she leaned back and gestured with casual authority.
"Your Apprentice is indeed full of surprises."
I turned my head. Diana sat cross-legged beside me, hair disheveled but posture steady. She was watching me—not with worry, but with something calculating and cool.
My damaged aura slowly registered that I wasn't where I'd collapsed. This space was vast and quiet, crowned by a massive glass dome. Even larger gyroscopic rings rotated slowly above the glass, somehow suspended in defiance of physics.
Everything hurt as I pushed myself upright.
"What happened? Where are we?"
"You're in my office at the top of Sylvarus," Diana said, voice composed. "You've been unconscious for nearly an hour. Soul burn."
"I noticed." I shifted, testing my limbs. "How's Erik?"
"He's doing magnificently, darling. I'm still trying to understand what you did." She glanced at Grace, hesitating. "Grace explained it, but... it was that refined mana again, wasn't it?"
I nodded. "It didn't want to cooperate. I had to burn mana to force it. And even then..." I gestured weakly at my current state. "What happened down there? That orb Felix and Ferris used—what was that?"
Diana hesitated, looking to Grace for permission.
"I'm not sure I can—"
Grace cut in smoothly. "The Stormfront team received an artifact known as an Amplis Lens as their event boon. Under normal parameters, it generates a controlled field amplification. They changed it. Drastically. The result exceeded all intended specifications."
Her voice remained unreadable behind the mask.
"My Runesmiths are examining how they altered an anchored enchantment in real-time. Their work was... remarkably advanced."
I blinked. That was a lot to unpack. "They... cheated?"
"In a manner of speaking. Without your intervention, at considerable personal cost, Erik would have died."
Diana leaned forward, tone softening. "Ben, darling, Malcolm told me what you did for him and Cass in the Trial Grounds. Healing magic is powerful and coveted—trust me, I should know."
She met my eyes, and for a moment I saw behind her confident facade. Something like concern, mixed with pity.
"You need to understand what you did today. Healing Erik like that, so quickly? That would be advanced even for someone like me."
She stood, smoothing her hair, collecting thoughts.
"There are healing Runebinders, yes. Talented ones. But those attuned to pull someone back from near death in seconds? They're exceptionally rare."
She looked down at me, expression serious.
"It changes everything. What you did wasn't luck, Ben. It might cost everything you have—I know today it nearly did. But as you advance..."
She didn't finish. Didn't need to.
Back on Earth, if someone had done what I just did, they'd have locked me up for study.
Would that happen here? Apparently, that kind of magic wasn't exactly common.
Unease rippled through me. I glanced at Grace, who was already watching with unreadable attention.
Before the silence could stretch further, a loud pop echoed through the chamber, followed by claws skittering across marble. I turned just in time to see Red appear at full speed, Dara materializing behind him.
"Sit!" she commanded.
Red skidded, dropped his butt to the floor, and panted like he'd just won a marathon.
"Dara?" Diana raised an eyebrow.
"I'm sorry," Dara sighed. "Ben's spirited beast has been terrorizing the Academy, finding me repeatedly, trying to convince me to bring him here. I can't get anything done. He's absolutely incorrigible!"
She vanished.
Red waited exactly two seconds before completely ignoring her command and launching across the room. He misjudged the slick marble and crashed directly into Grace before recovering and exploding into full-body, tail-wagging chaos.
I winced, waiting for Grace to snap—or vaporize him.
Instead, I heard something impossible: a stifled laugh. And it wasn't Diana.
"Okay, okay!" I laughed, pushing him off as he showered me in licks. "That's enough. You just ran into the strongest person on the island. Maybe apologize?"
"There is no need," Grace said, brushing herself off with amused dignity. "His excitement is... refreshing."
She rose with quiet authority. "Let's sit somewhere more appropriate. There are matters we must discuss."
She led us past a towering desk stacked with books and papers to a richly furnished upper level. We settled into plush seating—me beside Diana while Red stood frozen in the middle of the room, staring at the only open spot next to Grace.
He honked at me in pure panic.
Grace calmly patted the cushion beside her, as if this was routine.
Red climbed up slowly, trying to wedge himself onto the far edge, looking like a statue.
"You could've stayed on the floor," I said, shaking my head. "He's still wary after the courtyard incident."
Grace nodded. "Understandable. My presence there was... necessary. You resisted my domain more than expected."
Diana shot upright. "Wait, what the fuck did you do in the courtyard, Grace?"
Grace's voice turned almost casual. "I may have impressed my domain upon him briefly. Karma permitted me to assist him in return. He was unharmed. And there were no observers capable of detecting the act."
Diana exploded to her feet. "Gaia's succulent swells, Grace! You could've killed him! Or worse—gotten caught!"
I shot her an incredulous look as Grace waved dismissively with a gesture that felt distinctly Diana-like. Which immediately made something click.
"You two know each other," I said. "Don't you? Like... well."
Grace turned her masked face toward me, and the air tightened. Valor sputtered in response, just like in the courtyard.
"Oh?" she said, a hint of mischief threading her voice.
Diana groaned and dragged a hand down her face. "Of course he picked up on it."
The pressure eased. Grace leaned back as if nothing had happened.
"We have... history," she said simply.
I narrowed my eyes. "What's with the masks anyway?"
"When we become Oathbound, we swear away our former identities. From that point, we rarely remove our masks. I am not a person—I am the law."
I almost laughed, barely catching myself before making a Judge Dredd reference that would probably get me turned to dust.
"Ah, I see. And you're a Runewarden? You mentioned them when speaking to Alexander."
Grace nodded. "The hand of the Runelords. I assume your mentor has explained Runebinding's upper reaches."
I shrugged. "Summaries, mostly. But this is the first I've heard about anything past Grand Master or Archon."
"An Archon is a title, not a realm. A Grand Master who commands a faction," Diana cut in, turning to Grace. "His real training under me won't start until he officially enters Sylvarus. That was the deal with the Monster Hunters. Though after today..."
She trailed off meaningfully.
I turned back to Grace. "You said earlier this changes everything. Does that mean the Tournament is off?"
Grace stared at me for a long moment, letting the silence stretch until I started second-guessing the question.
"Oh, Gods no," she finally said, and I could hear the smile behind her mask. "It means you'll have to fight even harder."
I stared at her.
"...Ah. That figures."
