As Xenron arrived at the dining hall after a long afternoon of training, something didn’t seem right to him. He’d requested dumplings today - a celebratory treat - but he didn’t feel like celebrations as he took his order. The usually cheerful chef that sometimes greeted him seemed distant, almost despondent as she handed him his order, her posture slumped, violet curls unkempt, eyes bloodshot. Xenron took a long blink and focused on her soul - a purple-indigo miasma of hopelessness seemed to consume the yellow jubilation he’d grown used to in her short, stout frame. It made Xenron want to cry, and he lingered after taking the box with a word of thanks, wondering what to say. He could almost see the shape of her worry, but was missing too much context. Then, the woman looked up as if seeing him the first time.

  “I’m sorry, dear. Was there something else I could get for you? I didn’t mean to hold you up.”

  “It’s nothing, Ms. Summerfield,” he said. Rosalia, he had heard, but he would not be so disrespectful as to address her so casually. “Is there something that concerns you?” Xenron said stiffly. “Perhaps I could lend an ear to your troubles?”

  “I’m sorry, Your Highness. I’m alright. It’s nothing to trouble yourself over, dear.”

  What followed was a protracted effort by Xenron to assure her that he really did want to hear about her troubles. He had no trouble being sincere, and he persisted more than he might usually as he watched the woman’s arms open up from where they wrapped her body, and the miasma about her soul part slightly. As she squared herself to face Xenron, Ms. Summerfield began to explain.

  “…It’s Akari - the newer girl, elegant and professional. You remember her?”

  Xenron nodded honestly. The terse beauty was not easy to forget.

  “She’s been out of work for two weeks. I was hoping I hadn’t worked her too hard, but thought I was just overthinking things. I’m not her boss, you understand? I’m just her peer, like you and that bookish boy. Do make sure that poor boy gets enough sleep.”

  “I’ll try,” Xenron said. “He’s very good at giving at advice and much worse at taking it.”

  “A pity… ah! But I’ve gotten distracted again. The point is I’m just Akari’s peer, so I was thinking maybe she’d taken some vacation time. I’d hope, of course, that she felt we got along well enough to share with me about that sort of thing, so that I could be happy for her, but I suppose it’s none of my business.” Xenron nodded, watching the woman’s sad face intently. Xenron wasn’t patient - in everything as in training, he wanted answers, results, changes, and he wanted them now. But the sight of Rosalia’s despair had sobered him. He would not rush her.

  “I asked public safety about her yesterday - and wouldn’t you believe it, they wouldn’t tell me anything! Like I’d done something terrible, just asking after her. I had to talk to Allan in security to hear anything. He said that…” Ms. Summerfield sniffed. “She had come into his office delirious, and apparently lost control of her fire magic. He had burns all over, and he said the office was destroyed. But I don’t believe it!”

  “How terrible,” Xenron said as he turned the news over. Violence inside the castle, no, the Keep itself?

  “Please hear me out, Your Highness. Akari is a good girl. She’s very diligent. A little tight wound, but she always goes out of her way to make sure I’m okay. Why, the last day I saw her, she worked herself queasy, all because I’d gone and forgotten an important order!” Ms. Summerfield caught herself getting loud, and looked each way. Xenron gave her a pat on the shoulder, hoping it came off as reassuring. Boy though he was, he still nearly matched her height. “I don’t think she would have hurt him,” Ms. Summerfield said in a mournful near-whisper. “Not for a second.”

  “Where is she now?” Xenron asked. “Maybe I can talk to her.”

  “I don’t know,” Ms. Summerfield said, “but apparently they arrested her after tending to her own wounds. She’d being held, and they won’t even let me see her. Say she’s a ‘dangerous suspect.’” Ms. Summerfield shook her head. “I wouldn’t want you to overextend yourself, dear, but could you please try to talk to her? I just want to know if she’s going to be alright.”

  Xenron nodded. “I’ll talk to her, Ms. Summerfield. I’ll do what I can. I promise.”

  He felt the promise settle around him like chains as she held his hands together in hers and thanked him. Now you’ve gone and done it.

  Xenron sat down with Leo, suddenly very glad for the companionship, and at his prompting explained the situation. Xenron gave his explanation with half his mind, the other half working the issue, and he could tell at a glance that Leo was doing the same once he’d heard him out, his brow knitted and fingers drumming. That was something Xenron loved about Leo - while he enjoyed their spots of leisure time, he was the first to plunge in when there was work to be done. Before long, Leo spoke in low tones.

  “She’s being treated as an aggressor when the narrative is clearly that she did harm accidentally. The most likely antagonist is Delirium,” Leo said.

  Xenron nodded. “Why would she be treated like an aggressive criminal? In the worst case, she’s a petty criminal that was poisoned.”

  “Politics,” Leo said without hesitation. “If the sequence of events Ms. Summerfield described is correct, then her peer Ms. Bushida simply walked into the security office. Think about that moment. A powerful caster without control of her magic, so, someone likely inebriated, walked straight into a security office without resistance.”

  “It’s a gross oversight. Maybe someone didn’t show up to work?” Xenron pondered.

  “Or some petty suit understaffed a ‘secure’ area and is trying to save face by framing this as a terrorist attack,” Leo posed.

  Xenron wasn’t offended by the insinuation. Ken would sometimes needle Xenron with jabs at his father’s character - a habit that annoyed Xenron, even if he wasn’t going to try to get the boy in trouble for it. In contrast, Leo knew better than to come after family. This wasn’t that - even a strong leader might sometimes struggle with useless middle managers. Xenron tossed the possibility around in his head.

  “It’s a possibility - and that’s assuming Ms. Bushida bears any fault in the first place.”

  “I’m sure she did something wrong,” Leo said. “No one has any incentive I can see to put in the effort and destroy her character over nothing.”

  Xenron hummed as if agreeing, but didn’t feel the same. Something about the depth of Ms. Summerfield’s confidence and sadness at losing her peer - Ms. Bushida hadn’t been around that long - had struck a chord with him.

  “I assume you can’t exactly talk to her and find out?” Leo asked.

  “You know I don’t have any weight to throw around politically,” Xenron groaned.

  “Sure. It’s just a pity. I’d wager your new ability would be good for catching lies.”

  Xenron blinked, then looked around before giving Leo a conspiratorial look.

  “Cover me, I’m going in,” Xenron said, quoting the most recent Greatsword of Glory chapter. He set his head down on his hands and focused on the mental image of Ms. Bushida, the beautiful chef. She’d always made him a little nervous, but often put little treats or motivational quotes in his boxes, never saying anything about it. She didn’t seem like a bad person. It was embarrassingly easy to conjure the image of her delicate cheekbones, peach skin tone, jet black ponytail, sharp eyes with just a touch of makeup.

  The harder part, made more difficult by Leo’s protests that he tuned out, was channeling his mana. But there was a rightness to using this ability that made it possible. He did not see hallucinations of himself being strangled or of the rain, this time. Instead, it was a Lucerna girl’s gentle smile as she soothed him to sleep. That was a strange image for the Dread, but he pushed through it all the same. Before he lost his nerve, he had to find Ms. Bushida.

  At first, Xenron had thought he had two unrelated, strange abilities: Soul Sight, and the ability to remotely project his consciousness - or else, have extremely vivid fever dreams. It was Leo who had theorized something simpler - one Distinction. Soul Severance. He guessed that Xenron could cleave his soul from his body, and that allowed him to drift freely through the world. In Leo’s mind, Soul Sight was a consequence of this ability. Because Xenron was uniquely in tune with his own soul, he had the same awareness of those of others.

  Stolen novel; please report.

  That didn’t seem quite right to Xenron. For one thing, his soul was hardly ‘free’. He’d tried projecting it out of his body and walking down the hall. He’d managed it for a short distance before feeling a great weight, as if the hall behind him had become gravitational “down”. Drawn back to his body, he had startled upright. He’d put out the idea that perhaps his adventures in Jarion and the wilderness were merely dreams, but Leo was intent on finding out one way or the other. He’d challenged Xenron to find him on another floor of the Keep. Leo had made it easy by meditating on the thought of Xenron and nothing else, their mutual search for each other acting like a beacon for Xenron in the darkness. Regardless, though, he had found Leo, and had confirmed it by conversing with him and confirming the details of the conversation in person.

  The revelation that Ariel was almost certainly a real person had shaken Xenron into an unexpected fit of tears. There was always an unreality to her, her struggles, and her courage. Still, despite how he’d been sent away, he was been grateful to have met her.

  Remembering that bittersweet morning, Xenron set it aside and focused hard on the image of Ms. Bushida. She wouldn’t be signal boosting herself the way Leo had, but if Xenron’s impression of her was correct, she would be genuinely upset and confused right now. If he was lucky, that kind of desperation would be a blank-check call for help. Sure enough, Xenron focused on a distant spark in the void. He felt a disembodied tearing sensation as his soul pulled free and soared into the darkness. He traveled quickly in the murk, and he soon came to rest before the person he felt sure was Ms. Bushida.

  The woman’s soul was midnight black, closed off like a protective shell and letting out no light. That was the theory, but there was a crack, and through the seam came sunrise orange light. Xenron could not articulate what that glow was, but he knew intuitively it was a treasured dream, and for just a moment he saw the face of a kindly, stern old man. Transfixed and curious, he reached out and touched the black casing without thinking.

  The entire soul went from black to crimson, fierce with fury, and it twisted about its humanoid form like a serpent, striking out at Xenron. He barely avoided the attack.

  “Who are you?!” a woman’s distorted voice demanded. As when he visited Ariel, Xenron didn’t hear so much as feel and know the words within himself.

  “I’m a friend,” Xenron said, but the body coiled around and struck from below. Xenron’s motions were disorienting to him - as he leapt away in a panic, he tumbled, and his perceived ‘up’ direction changed. He now seemed to look down on the serpentine mass, dodging across the plane as it struck out at him. Xenron couldn’t help but hum appreciatively. He recognized now what Ms. Bushida was doing. At Leo’s insistence, Xenron had read what little was known about soul projection and spiritual defenses. For the latter, most techniques were imprecise and abstract, based on ideals more than formulas - because how else could the soul defend itself? It wasn’t like people could just pilot their soul, independent from their body. It thrilled and frightened Xenron to confirm that, yes, there was something he could do that most people couldn’t. This was real - Xenron knew Ms. Bushida’s voice. Having clearly heard him, she hesitated and the serpentine form coiled. “I’m here because I promised Ms. Summerfield I’d try to help.”

  That got her attention, and immediately the coiled form settled back towards the glowing humanoid form of a woman. The black shell was diminished, showing Xenron a violet weariness wrapping her soul like so many ribbons - or ropes, perhaps.

  “I’m sorry I attacked you. I hope you’ll forgive my reticence, but I don’t have any way of confirming what you’re saying. The last few days have been… difficult.”

  Xenron frowned to himself - though he realized it wouldn’t do anything for her, who couldn’t see him. So, he forced himself to speak - to try to learn more. The prisoner was willing to share the more obvious details of her detainment. She had spent days or weeks in a hospital wing, she guessed, she couldn’t be certain because no one told her how long she’d been out. She’d then been transferred here, to some kind of holding cell, she wasn’t sure where, days ago. There weren’t windows, so she had only a rough sense of time. She’d complied and hadn’t been treated with violence, yet, but they hadn’t told her anything at all while asking their own questions and keeping her in solitary confinement. Xenron was happy to at least confirm for her that the overall timeline was about two weeks based on Rosalia’s account.

  When she didn’t answer Xenron’s questions about the incident itself, he realized looking at her creeping anxiety that she thought he might be part of that same questioning. Swearing under his breath, he looked at the situation from her perspective. An unidentified spirit had attacked her soul, then began to question her. She was trying to trust him - but trust was a hard thing. He’d failed to keep Ariel’s trust after she gave it freely. Do I dare tell her who I am? Would that even make things better? And if they’re questioning her, wouldn’t that be the same as disclosing my new powers? Xenron knew he should tell his father about Soul Severance, but that would be done directly - it was too important to disclose hastily. Wracking his brain, Xenron found himself ‘speaking’ in the telepathic way of this form.

  “I’m sorry that I can’t give you a lot of information - or direct help - right now. All I can say is - looking at your soul - I don’t think you did anything wrong. I think you’re tired and scared but honest, and trying to set things right. If there’s anything that you can safely part with to help me prove that’s the case, I’d appreciate it.”

  Xenron waited a long moment, then sighed and started to turn.

  “I can’t remember anything,” Ms. Bushida finally said. “There’s the shape of things - worry, fear, a struggle. But it’s all threadbare. I know I didn’t take any drugs, like what they said were in my system - not intentionally. My memories are sharp up until I noticed I’d left my phone upstairs. But after that… I can’t remember walking into the camera room at all.”

  Xenron turned and nodded appreciatively. “That sounds terrifying. Thank you for telling me.”

  “I know - it’s nothing to go on. I’ve told them the same, and they don’t seem impressed. Just tell Rosalia I’m alright. I don’t want her fretting about this.”

  “Of course,” Xenron said, feeling awkward. After he was sure she wouldn’t say more, he departed, waking in his body after a moment’s drifting. His mouth was dry, and he heard Leo conversing with someone.

  “Should we bring him to a nurse?” an unfamiliar boy’s voice said.

  “He’s fine,” Leo’s voice responded. “His Highness has a habit of napping at inopportune times.”

  “Interesting, could it be a matter of bad sleep? Maybe anemia? Folks back home had some herbal remedies I could recommend.”

  Xenron yawned and stretched expansively, pretending to wake up.

  “Sorry, I’m up,” he said. “I think my iron’s fine, I just need a better sleep schedule.”

  “No worries,” said the boy with side-swept crimson hair and ocean blue eyes. He wore a disarming smile and casual training clothes showing well-developed muscles. “Just figured I’d check in. Pleasure to finally meet you! I’m Eric.”

  Xenron shook his extended hand tentatively, getting a firm shake from the boy.

  “Will I see you in the exhibition?” Xenron asked conversationally. The boy’s face lit up.

  “Of course! I’ll try to put in good showing. My favorite podcaster always says it’s important to make an impression, good or bad - you can always iterate! But I’d like to start strong, given the chance… anyway, I’ll leave you to it before your food gets cold.” Grinning broadly, the boy turned and walked away. Xenron looked to Leo as he left, who simply shrugged.

  “Probably a just a sycophant,” Leo said. “More importantly, what did you see?”

  Xenron again wasn’t sure he agreed - the newcomer did appear sincere. But the main point was pressing. Xenron spoke in a whisper. “She’s being held somewhere - close, I think - but I don’t have a great sense of spacing in that state. I’m not sure about time. How long was I out?”

  “Just a few minutes,” Leo said, and Xenron felt a thrill. The timing was close to what he had guessed. Leo ran his fingers through his hair, taking a long sip of coffee. “This is bigger than us, Xenron. We already know His Majesty wants you to stay within your circle, limiting your influence and power for now. But this ability of yours… it has implications. The ability to observe events remotely, gather intelligence, and report back without leaving a trace is valuable beyond what I can even quantify - and yet, I’m not sure it solves this particular problem.”

  “So you agree it’s a problem?” Xenron said, zeroing in on the point of interest.

  “Ms. Bushida doesn’t seem like a bad person - but I don’t know the whole story. What did you find out?”

  Xenron gave Leo the full account of what he’d heard, and realized from his friend’s frown how little he had to go on.

  “I get it, but it’s not like I can do nothing. You didn’t see Ms. Summerfield crying.”

  “I did, actually,” Leo said, scratching his head and looking away. He continued in a low tone. “I don’t like it either. But Xenron - you’ve insisted that I speak honestly, so I will. There’s a lot that isn’t as it should be wherever there’s power in our empire, or so I see it. The oligarchs of the great families throw around their weight so their people have economic advantage, caring nothing of the ripples it makes everyone else wade through. Archaic policies dating back to the Mad King or even Reiner’s Punishment Edicts linger as law because there’s too damn much of it to try to overturn with slow processes.”

  “So you’re saying we should look away?” Xenron cut in.

  “No. I’m saying there’s no shortage of places to do good - unfortunately, those of us without a lot of power, which includes you for now, need to decide very judiciously where to play our cards.”

  Xenron slowly nodded. “As a chess player, I understand. It’s not worth sacrificing several pieces, or a significant positional advantage, to save a pawn. And yet… it’s not the same with people, I think. There are things the rules of chess, or military theory, don’t account for. I gave both of those women my word that I would try to help - so, I will.”

  Leo blinked, his scowl turning into a gentle smile. He set to eating.

  “What?” Xenron asked, losing the low tone. “Did I say something weird?”

  “It’s nothing. I was just remembering when we acted out that scene from the The Epic of Xexherre together.”

  Xenron crossed his arms, remembering how he’d cried. “You’re laughing at me? Now?”

  “It’s really nothing,” Leo said, grinning. “You win,” he continued. “Let me know if I can help.”

  That offer gave Xenron no small amount of confidence. They would do something for Ms. Bushida - come what may.