I jolted awake on the floor of Doreen's, hazy memories of last night's celebration already dissolving like smoke. Morning light stabbed through the window like an accusation, and my mouth tasted like I'd been gargling with boot leather.

  The curtain draped over me as a makeshift blanket reeked of spilled beer and poor life choices. Above me, Katie was curled up in the actual bed, still dead to the world. I vaguely remembered insisting on taking the floor when everyone stumbled off to bed—something about being a gentleman, though the details were fuzzy as hell.

  Winchester's weight pressed against my consciousness, solid in my soul-space. Whatever else had happened—yesterday wasn't a dream. I was officially a Runebinder now. The thought should have been exciting, but mostly it just made my head pound worse.

  A sharp knock rattled the door before it swung open. Shit—I'd forgotten to lock it.

  Cass stood in the doorway wearing a shit-eating grin, Red at her side with his tail doing that helicopter thing. Her eyes flicked from me on the floor to Katie in the bed, and I watched her face cycle through confusion, realization, and then pure disappointment.

  "Oh, come ON!" she yelled loud enough to wake half the city. "You two are absolutely hopeless! I'm going for a run before I lose my mind."

  Red, apparently deciding this was the most comfortable room in the building, took a running leap and landed on the bed like a furry cannonball. Katie mumbled something unintelligible as he started sniffing around her hair, but after a moment of token resistance, she just wrapped her arms around him and went back to sleep.

  Since sleep was clearly off the table, I decided a walk might help clear the fog from my brain. The events of yesterday felt surreal—binding my Seal, moving that massive boat, Ted's explosive debut. I needed to process it all without an audience.

  Red didn't even look up as I slipped out. By now, I knew he'd find me when he felt like it.

  The common room looked like a battlefield. Bodies sprawled across tables and chairs, empty cups scattered like fallen soldiers. I raided the kitchen for some bread and sausage that tasted like cardboard but would keep me upright, then escaped through the alley door.

  The morning air hit me like a blessing—cool and salt-tinged, carrying the promise of a new day. La-Roc was peaceful at this hour, the sun barely peeking over the horizon. Down at the harbor, dozens of figures in black robes moved around the moored ships like industrious ants. Maris's people, already hard at work.

  Following the water's edge, I discovered a small courtyard tucked back from the main road. Low stone walls, half-crumbled from age, framed a space where wild shrubs had claimed territory around weathered benches. It faced the ocean directly, offering an unobstructed view of the sunrise painting the water in shades of liquid gold.

  I glanced around to make sure I was alone, then stepped into the center of the courtyard and began the opening form of Aapo's Tai Chi.

  The difference was immediate and stunning. Where before I'd struggled with the advanced movements, now they flowed like water. My mana channels responded to each gesture like perfectly tuned instruments, and for the first time, I could actually see the ambient mana swirling in the surrounding air—faint spirals of light that danced with my movements.

  The ocean stretched endlessly before me, the rising sun turning the waves into molten metal. Goosebumps raced up my arms as I moved through forms that had once challenged me, executing them with a precision that would have made Aapo proud. This wasn't just improved technique—this was transformation.

  I finished the last movement and exhaled slowly, feeling centered in a way I'd never experienced. But as I stepped back toward the crumbling wall, a wild idea took root.

  Cass had mentioned that with enough mana, a brick wall wouldn't be a problem. I'd thought it was hyperbole, a thing people said without meaning literally. But after yesterday...

  Making sure I was still alone, I shifted into a cannon fist stance and channeled mana into my arms. This time, I engaged my entire body, driving forward with perfect form.

  I braced for agony, expecting to walk back to Doreen's with shattered knuckles and an idiotic story.

  Instead, my fist sank into the stone like it was made of wet clay.

  The impact sent shockwaves up my arm as cracks spider-webbed outward from the crater I'd just punched in solid rock. I staggered backward, staring at the destruction with a mixture of awe and terror. My knuckles were scraped and bleeding, but otherwise fine.

  "What the actual fuck," I whispered, flexing my fingers.

  I pulled Winchester from my soul-space, and Ted materialized instantly, looking about as impressed as someone watching paint dry.

  "Yeah, yeah, you can break stone with your hands. It's been done before, kid," he said, examining his tiny fingernails as if this was the most boring thing he'd ever witnessed.

  I gestured at the crater. "I don't think this is quite the same thing."

  "You had it for a second there." He nodded at the wall with grudging approval. "The trick's doing it in your soul-space at the same time. Syncing up body and soul for the real kick."

  I crossed my arms. "How exactly do you know this stuff? And while we're having this conversation—how are you even here? We have some serious shit to unpack."

  Ted gave a lazy shrug that somehow conveyed volumes about the cosmic absurdity of existence. "I'm your spirit guide, kid. Like a Spirit Guardian, but with better jokes. The rest is... complicated. I'm here because that stick of yours is some kind of goddamn spiritual Swiss Army knife. We've barely scratched the surface of what it can do."

  He paused, then grinned like a kid about to show off his favorite toy. "Oh hey, check this out. Figured it out while you were drooling on the floor."

  With a casual flick of his hand, Winchester's orb vibrated, letting out a low, melodic hum that seemed to resonate in my bones. The metal twisted and flowed like liquid mercury, extending into a gleaming Orichalcum blade that caught the morning light.

  I stared at my staff—no, my spear. Maybe glaive was more accurate.

  "Oh, right. You're a Paladin now, huh? How about this?"

  Another hum, and the blade shifted again. The weapon transformed into a double-headed war hammer, the orange metal head so massive it nearly yanked my arm out of its socket. I had to channel mana just to keep from dropping the damn thing.

  "Jesus Christ," I muttered, struggling with the sudden weight distribution. "How is that even possible? There's no way it should gain mass..."

  "Awesome, right?" Ted beamed with pride as the hammer shifted back to its orb form. "I've been poking around in here, but I feel like your Aagung trying to figure out his phone. Hey—that's a memory I haven't seen before."

  I frowned. My maternal grandfather had never shown much interest in my brother or me, disapproving of my father from day one. But I remembered the family dim sum gatherings, watching him squint at whatever ancient, cracked phone he'd managed to acquire, stabbing at the screen like brute force would make technology cooperate.

  "It's really fucking weird that you have access to my memories," I said. "And that you can apparently browse through them like a photo album." I studied his face. "I couldn't bring this up when you were just some dream, but now... What exactly is a spirit guide? And why do I get this overwhelming urge to keep you secret every time I think about telling someone?"

  "Huh?" Ted looked genuinely confused. "I don't have any control over you, kid."

  "Ted, you told three people last night that you were my Spirit Guardian. You've been pushing this narrative since day one."

  "Look, you said you've known I existed for a week. Until recently, I had no fucking clue what that even meant." He patted himself down like he was checking that all his parts were still attached. "I'm a spirit, and now I get to exist in the physical world, which is trippy as hell. A spirit guide actually meeting his..." He let out a long, exasperated sigh. "Look, I'll explain what I can, but it's not exactly easy to translate into terms your monkey brain can handle at this point."

  We started walking through the mostly empty streets as the city stirred to life around us. Shutters opened with wooden groans, cart wheels rolled over cobblestones, and the distant sounds of morning commerce filled the air. Despite his size, Ted kept pace easily, moving with a swagger that belonged on someone ten times his height.

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  "There are three main things that can form in the spiritual plane," he began, falling into what sounded like a well-practiced explanation. "Souls, Realms, and Echoes. All made from the same stuff, but it's how they form that matters. Spirit energy gets recycled over and over—finite resource, infinite possibilities. Bigger things in the physical world accumulate more of it, which makes them reflect differently in the Spiritual."

  He gestured vaguely, as if hand-waving could somehow make interdimensional metaphysics easier to grasp.

  "Echoes—or reflections, like the bug lady called them—usually come from destroyed places in the physical realm. Case in point, that Sentarian city you visited. Actual realms are rare. Most folks call them hidden realms. Like bubbles forming out of chaos. Random, dream-like shit that doesn't follow normal rules. They have a nasty habit of bleeding into the physical world. Real Bermuda Triangle stuff."

  Ted scratched behind his ear, working through the more complex parts. "But souls? Souls are everywhere, and they're what make everything tick. Think of it like space itself. A comet could be a soul. A dust particle could be a soul. But the big ones, like yours? Those are like planets. And that's where I come in."

  I glanced down at him. “A Spirit Guide?”

  "Yeah. Without a soul, you'd be no better than the monsters roaming around out here. Each soul connects to the physical realm through mana. Mana doesn't give a shit about Physical or Spiritual boundaries—it just does its thing."

  "Okay, that's... shaky, but I think I follow. But where do you actually come from?"

  Ted scoffed. "What kind of question is that? Where do you come from?"

  "I was born—"

  "Not here, asshole." He jabbed a finger at my chest. "In there. You exist in your soul too. Hell, by every impossible definition, you are your soul. So how do you explain that? You just are. Same as me. In fact, now that I'm learning how time works, I'm pretty sure I was living in there longer than this meat-sack’s been alive. How's that for a mind-fuck?"

  I shook my head, giving up on trying to understand spiritual mechanics that apparently defied logic.

  "Fine, but how do you know what to do with Winchester? How do you know any of this stuff?"

  "I look it up," he said with a wave, like that explained everything. "You saw it—there's a massive database of information floating around in there. Not always accurate, sometimes completely contradictory, but I've gotten pretty good at sorting through the bullshit. Things like how much mana it takes to pierce the Veil using a mana sanctum, or whether your sanctum could handle that kind of power."

  I stopped dead in my tracks. "You're telling me that swirling universe of light in my soul is basically the spiritual equivalent of the internet? And you can read it?"

  "It's not—" Ted hesitated, his expression shifting like he'd just realized something important. "How the fuck did I not know about the internet? And your phone! I just figured out what those are. But here's the weird part—you've got thousands of memories of messing around on your phone, but not a single dream where you have it. That's fucking strange, right?"

  The absurdity finally broke me, and I burst out laughing. "Ha! You're an iPhone with legs and an attitude problem."

  "Fuck you, you don't even use one of those pieces of shit."

  "So does everyone have a little spiritual iPhone sitting in their soul?" I asked, wiping tears from my eyes.

  "How should I know? I'd guess not, though. Dust particles are way more common than planets." He paused, then looked thoughtful. "At least, I think so. Can't exactly look it up while I'm out here playing tour guide."

  With that, Ted vanished in a cascade of multicolored sparkles.

  The irony wasn't lost on me. Even as I walked, I could hear him ranting in my soul-space about various magnitudes of infinity and, more importantly, his vehement denial of being any kind of smartphone.

  By the time I made it back to Doreen's, I found Jeremy and Doreen sitting in the common room with steaming cups of tea. The rich, earthy aroma hit me immediately—familiar and oddly comforting after the morning's revelations.

  I was about to join them when Jeremy shot out of his chair like he'd been launched, landing on a nearby table with perfect balance. His eyes locked onto mine with predatory focus.

  "Seeker Training," he announced, though there was something distinctly mischievous in his expression.

  "Sparring rooms," Doreen called from her chair, already sounding resigned to whatever chaos was about to unfold.

  Jeremy's grin turned wicked. "Nonsense, my dear. The courtyard will do perfectly."

  Before I could protest, I was herded out of the common room, barely a minute after walking in.

  "What's the rush?" I asked as we headed toward the Tower.

  "Now that you are a Seeker, you'll be classed up to fight others at your level in the later rounds of the Grand Tournament. I intend to have you ready."

  My stomach dropped. "Wait—was binding my Seal a mistake? I had no idea it would mess things up..."

  "No, it was the right move. Impressive, actually. But you need to learn how to use your new strength properly. How to move without destroying everything around you."

  I rolled my shoulders, feeling the power coiled in my muscles like a loaded spring. "Actually, I think I figured a lot of that out this morning."

  Jeremy spun around and shot me a grin that transformed his mousy features into something almost menacing. "Show me."

  The courtyard was mostly empty except for early-morning vendors setting up their stalls. Jeremy positioned himself with the Tower stairs at his back while I stood near the statue of Gaius Valerian.

  "You will not be permitted a weapon in formal duels as a Monster Hunter," Jeremy explained, settling into an intense martial arts stance. "We are bound by oath to only draw steel after our opponent does. Others aren't bound by this tradition, though many observe it anyway." His posture shifted, becoming something fluid and dangerous. "I know you can handle yourself with a staff, but do you know any other forms of combat?"

  I flowed through several Tai Chi forms before settling into my favorite stance—feet positioned mid-stride, hands extended as if playing an invisible pipa. The position felt more natural than breathing.

  Mana thrummed through my body like electricity, stronger and more responsive than ever. Inside my soul-space, I mirrored the same movements. Ted had said I needed to sync them up—this felt like progress.

  Jeremy's gaze sharpened, taking in my stance with professional interest. "I will test you, Ben Crawford. Should the opportunity arise to strike, do not hesitate."

  He exploded toward me in a flying kick that should have looked ridiculous coming from someone half my size. Instead, Valor screamed a warning in both my body and soul-space simultaneously.

  My response was pure instinct. No jerky, muscle-wrenching reaction like before—just smooth motion. I flowed around his attack and deflected him with a gentle batting motion that contained way more force than I'd intended.

  Jeremy landed gracefully, already pivoting for his next assault. I stepped forward, raising my knee in a feint, but he darted aside and swept for my planted leg. My weight shifted fluidly, avoiding the strike without conscious thought. Valor churned in my soul, feeding me details I shouldn't have been able to process.

  It felt like we were moving underwater, every action stretched out in perfect clarity—until I noticed the dust cloud we were kicking up and realized we were moving faster than humanly possible.

  I blocked a vicious strike with my forearm, and a nearby cart toppled over from the shockwave.

  Suddenly, Jeremy launched himself at me with insane speed. I barely had time to react, dropping into a low stance and twisting to shove him out of the air with a haphazard strike that barely connected.

  He landed softly as a cat and began circling me like a predator. "You've had three obvious opportunities, and all you've done is try to tag me without following through."

  I couldn't help but grin. "Stop trying to hit you, and hit you?"

  Jeremy tilted his head, considering my words. "Precisely. Your movements have improved dramatically in such a short time—I might even be impressed if you actually fought back."

  By now, several vendors had paused their setup to watch our impromptu demonstration. I had a feeling Jeremy wanted an audience for the lesson he was about to teach me.

  I thought back to my fight with the massive golem—the way I'd moved, the way I'd launched myself using raw mana as propulsion. A savage grin spread across my face.

  "My turn."

  I surged forward, channeling everything I had into my feet. Blue energy exploded beneath me as I launched into the air, wind whistling past my ears as I landed behind him. His head snapped toward me, genuine surprise flickering across his features before he attempted another leg sweep.

  The mana locked my feet to the ground like anchors. His kick rattled through my knee, sending pain shooting up my leg, but I gritted my teeth and grabbed for his retreating limb. My fingers barely closed around him before he wriggled free, but I pivoted and drove a cannon fist punch into his chest—just like I'd done to the stone wall.

  The crack echoed across the courtyard as Jeremy was launched through the air, crashing into a food cart with devastating force. Panic flooded through me as I realized I'd just hit a small Vildar with enough power to shatter rock.

  A few spectators cheered. I caught sight of Cass pumping her fist and grinning like a lunatic.

  Valor screamed another warning. I spun just in time to see the entire food cart hurtling toward my head. Dropping to my knees, I leaned back, feeling the wind as it sailed overhead close enough to part my hair.

  When I snapped upright, Jeremy stood in the wreckage, grinning with an expression that reminded me way too much of Doreen's predatory smile. A green aura crackled around him like trapped lightning.

  A rune pulsed in my mind's eye—his Seal, maybe? I had no idea what the concepts meant, but they screamed pure momentum and unstoppable force.

  The dust around him exploded as he rocketed toward me headfirst, moving too fast to track. No time to stand, no time to dodge. All I could do was pour every scrap of mana I had into the point where he was about to hit and pray it would be enough.

  At the last possible second, I ignited Valor in a full mana burn. Blue energy flared around me like a star going nova as Jeremy struck with the force of a cannon. I skidded backward on my knees, barely holding my improvised shield together as the world turned into noise and pain.

  The instant I released the mana burn, momentum took over. I flew like a rag doll, barely managing to brace before slamming shoulder-first into something unforgiving. The impact drove the air from my lungs as I hit the ground face-first.

  Jeremy loomed over me as I groaned into the dust. "Good," he said, completely unfazed by the destruction around us. "I believe you are ready to return to the trial grounds."

  "Oh, gods-dammit, Jeremy!"

  Diana's voice cut through the ringing in my ears like a blade. I sat up carefully, favoring what felt like another broken shoulder. How many was that now? I was losing count.

  Diana marched over and smacked Jeremy with a piece of the destroyed cart like she was disciplining a misbehaving pet. "They could hear his shoulder break all the way in the Greatwood! What happened to being a calm and collected teacher?"

  Jeremy had the grace to look slightly sheepish. "The boy needed to understand his limits. Better to learn them here than in the Tournament."

  "Next time, maybe try words first?" Diana suggested acidly, then turned to me with exasperated concern. "Come on, I need a drink."

  As I struggled to my feet, I caught sight of the crowd we'd attracted. Vendors, early shoppers, and what looked like half the Monster Hunter population were staring at the chaos we'd created in the middle of the courtyard.

  "Well," I muttered, "at least I know I can fight now."

  "Fight?" Diana snorted. "Darling, you just went toe-to-toe with one of the best hand-to-hand fighters in La-Roc. That's not fighting—that's surviving a fucking hurricane."