Soul Contracts

Before the archmage gets to turn to go let his servants know to prepare a celebration for his new apprentice, Haalfrin tugs on the old man's robe, "Um sir?"

A little startled, the archmage turns around and says, "Need something else?"

"Yeah…," Haalfrin says as he looks around awkwardly, "There's a pressing matter, and I need my first lesson. Well… more like I need a big question answered."

Seeing he has Kalastros's attention, Haalfrin opens his mouth, "What does it mean to tell another person your Name?"

Freyya freaked out so much before when he did it to her. Then, he had a strange vision of her past when she told him hers. Other than sharing snippets of your timeline, what could possibly happen? For the goddess to freak out that much, there must be more to it.

A little surprised at the question, the archmage answers slowly, "You know… it's dangerous to show another your Name and tell them the meaning. Comprehending a Name that's not your own is guaranteed to change you in some way…"

Seeing Haalfrin's unusually serious look, the archmage gets a bad feeling in his heart, but he continues explaining, "If your Names are incompatible, sharing a Name can get as bad as driving you mad to straight up killing you. If they ARE compatible, your Names will be enhanced, and your potential unleashed."

Hearing this, Haalfrin brightens a little in relief.

"This," Kalastros continues teaching, "is called forming a Soul Contract. However, compatible souls are rather rare, but not undetectable. That's why you need to be careful who you share your Names with."

Looking up, the archmage seems to get lost in his own mind as he keeps talking. "The type of Contract you get also depends on what Names you share."

"What about the Fate rune? You know, the one written on your soul gate...?" Haalfrin asks.

"Hmm…," the archmage replies, "'Fate' rune is an improper term for it in the soul's tongue. The one you're talking about is called the Yiir Name. In the soul's tongue, there are always 2 derivatives for every word. Yiir's first meaning is 'to happen', and the second is 'place', or 'location' – depending on how you translate it."

"Anyway, back to your question." Kalastros starts pacing back and forth. "Every Contract must have 3 Names shared to be complete. I don't know every combination of Contracts and what they are…. But I know a few that involve Yiir."

Kalastros starts counting on his hands, "There's a marriage Contract when you share your Yiir, Reh, and Dra Names. There's eternal allies, when you share your Yiir, Syl, and Dra Names… I think that's all I know."

Haalfrin is curious about what all these "Reh", and "Dra" terms mean, but he chooses not to ask. Rather, he wonders why his master doesn't know much about the different types of Contracts.

Seeing Haalfrin's incredulous look, the archmage gets embarrassed. "What? Soul Contracting a rare occurrence; hence, it's hard to study… There's not a lot of material on it."

"Either way," the archmage finishes up as he wears a serious face, "Even without a complete contract, sharing a Name can have very real consequences."

Haalfrin's face goes pale again. "What… what could go wrong?"

"Oh," Kalastros says with a sarcastically casual tone, "when you share the Rune of 'Destiny' (Yiir) then two of you will be doomed to forever cross paths for all eternity and forever be the source of most important events in each other's lives."

"Phew, I thought it would be worse than that," Haalfrin says relieved.

"Think of it this way," the archmage suggests, "If you share a rune with a person you don't like, you'll forever be stuck with that person. No matter how hard you try, you can never get them out of your life. There was even an instance where a man was miraculously brought back to life because his arch-enemy knew his Yiir Name, and Fate wouldn't allow them to be apart."

"Anyway," Kalastros coughs, "That's a long story, so I won't get into it. So, since you share your Yiir together now, you'll have unforeseen importance in each other's lives – in the case of an enemy, that usually means BAD business. On top of that, no matter where you go, you'll always bump into each other, even when it doesn't make sense. It's like all the luck in the world will try to make you meet each other."

Haalfrin chuckles nervously, "But what about a good example of sharing the Yiir?"

"Oh that?" the archmage says, "There was a real case of entwined Yiir between two long-lost twins who were separated at birth. They possessed the same Yiir Name at birth, so it's effectively the same thing as sharing your Yiir with another."

"Despite growing up on the other side of the world to foster parents who weren't even remotely related to each other, the siblings still found each other in a random tavern, had a good drink, became fast friends, and somehow said all the right things to get each other to meet the other's foster family."

"They then discovered a Will written to both of them in a random treasure chest while digging around some ruins. That's how they found out they were siblings."

"…That's an oddly specific story." Haalfrin asks, "Did that actually happen?"

"Yeah. It happened to my mother. The other twin was my uncle."

"… That's pretty insane," Haalfrin concludes.

"Yup," Kalastros agrees, "all rational thoughts of what's 'likely' becomes irrelevant once Yiir is invoked."

"Still," the archmage looks to the side with an embarrassed look. "It's a good thing they found out they were twins. The moment they met each other, they really liked each other... Something inside their souls just knew they were meant to share their lives together..."

Haalfrin looks down. "Yeah... good thing..."

He then looks up and thinks about what his new master just taught him, and he realizes something interesting. "So, mine and Freyya's Yiir is probably compatible because we both have a fate related to dying by the blade. We're already destined to run into each other all the time, seeing as how I'm a soldier who can see the gods, and Freyya's a god who collects the souls of fallen soldiers. Every time I kill someone on the job, I'm bound to meet her."

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After Kalastros gives his first lesson and leaves, Haalfrin starts his new life as the archmage's apprentice.

Everyone in the court thinks Tallus scored big by getting the archmage's only apprentice "on his side", and they start to treat him more seriously – much to Prince Kanus's frustration.

Only Tallus himself knows that Haalfrin couldn't care less about him or his career; he's just a maniac choosing whichever option is bound to cause more chaos.

Thinking of this, Tallus gets really nervous, fearing that Haalfrin won't come back and help him, now that he's become the archmage's apprentice.

'I've never given him any reason to be loyal to me, Tallus correctly thinks, 'And as far as I know, that madman has grown bored of my fight already. I can't rest easy until I personally talk with the archmage's new apprentice!'

Meanwhile, Haalfrin is in a luxurious room, and he's sitting cross-legged on his bed practicing the mana circulation technique his new master had given him. He doesn't have the help of a goddess inserting information directly into his brain this time, nor does he have more advanced knowledge to draw references from.

Having to start from scratch with an entirely new technique is challenging, and it takes all of his concentration.

After several days of practicing this technique and religiously keeping his concentration up, he finally starts to feel his mana moving around his body smoothly – just as his master said it would!

Just as Haalfrin is getting the hang of this feeling, he hears a loud knock on the door. "WHAT!" Having his concentration broken, Haalfrin gets angry and swings his hand to the side.

The door slams open, and there stands Tallus with his hands behind his back and smiling awkwardly.

"I…," Tallus asks fearfully, "I was wondering if you still planned on helping me get the…"

"Are you an idiot!" Haalfrin growls peevishly. "I already gave you an answer. Ugh! You're insufferable! Just get out!"

Not giving the man time to step back on his own, a staff resting by the side of the door lifts up of its own accord, slams the young prince in the gut, then pushes his prone body out the door the same way a broom would sweep away a dead bug.