Kirin felt like his whole body had been ripped apart and put together again. The golden energy was still burning through his veins like thick, hot liquid. Words echoed in his head while he fought off the lingering emotions and memories that didn't belong to him.
He wiped his mouth and straightened. The charred courtyard with its upturned stones and soil looked like a battlefield, but nothing paralleled the horror of the disfigured faces of the prisoners.
A strong arm went around his shoulder and led him to the house. He sank onto a bench within the cool stone walls, trying to steady his breathing. Someone sat next to him and gently held a wooden cup of water against his lips.
"Are you injured?" Owain's voice asked.
Kirin took the cup from him, sipped a bit of water and shook his head.
Owain frowned and clapped him on the back of the head. "What were you thinking, grabbing my man's shield to throw yourself in front of that Fae bastard?"
"You are the one who taught me that one never leaves a companion behind. I still don't understand why this ambush was necessary," Kirin muttered, feeling like a fool.
"Did you not see what he was capable of? He almost buried the whole fort in a fire pit, and…" Owain began.
"He didn't. That was me," Kirin interrupted, trying his best to hold back tears.
"What do you mean?"
Grasping for words, he tried to explain, "When he destroyed the chains and all that energy burst from him, I tried to stop him. But when I grabbed his hand, that strange golden magic flowed into me and through me, and I couldn't control where it went. At first, I thought it would burn me up inside, but then … it felt like I was no longer myself. It was like I was lost inside his head with fragments of memories and rage."
"Did he say anything?" Owain asked, looking worried.
"I don't think he remembers what happened," Kirin admitted.
"Then you must never tell him," Owain urged. After a moment of hesitation, he added, "I am not sure if we should even tell my father. It might give him ideas."
"But I don't know how to release it, and holding it in hurts."
"It is still in you?"
Kirin nodded, and Owain hurried to the door, calling for his father.
The bard sipped some more water and tried to clear his head. The pain was abating slowly, and the memories became hazy. Only the image of the woman with amber eyes persisted, her cold, beautiful voice still echoing in his head.
"Your self-control must be impeccable at all times, or you will be returned to the Source as a failed experiment."
He wasn't quite sure what that meant, but at least it had made Valerien snap back to reality.
The High Warlock rushed in, his robes billowing like white sails. "What is it, lad? Things were just getting interesting out there."
"I absorbed some of the demon's energy, so Owain got worried. But it's better now. It can wait."
The old man cocked his head and frowned, then enveloped Kirin in white mist. That energy had always felt comforting before, but now his whole body arched up in pain as if someone was trying to turn him inside out.
"I can't withdraw it. But there is something else in you that wasn't there before. It feels like it is anchoring that Fae's magic," the warlock said with interest and withdrew the white mist.
Kirin searched for the trace of raw magic that he had absorbed in the cave and let it flicker up. The High Warlock's eyes widened in surprise.
The moment he touched it, it flared up angrily and threw him back with such power that he almost hit the wall. The bard ran forward to help him up, but the old man just shook his head and got back to his feet somewhat shakily, but the look on his face was quite enthusiastic.
"I have never felt such pure, raw magic. Tell me exactly what happened," he said, brushing off the dust of his robe.
Kirin poured his heart out. A part of him still held on to the childish notion that the High Warlock knew everything and could always solve any problem he brought to him.
The old man paced around the room, listening intently. Once the tale was told, he exclaimed, "Incredible! It is a true miracle you are still alive, my boy. No one has seen or felt the Fae Veil in centuries, but you even absorbed a bit of it and lived."
"But how do I get rid of it?" Kirin asked, fully irritated by how excited the old man seemed to be by his near demise.
The High Warlock took up his pacing again, as he always did when he was concentrating or in deep thought.
"I am not sure yet. The few pieces of information my predecessors left about the Fae are old and vague, and that pretty boy out there proved some of them wrong. We must find out more first. Your life could depend on it."
Kirin swallowed nervously and gathered the courage to ask, "How long do I have left?"
"Left? You are not dying. As far as I can tell, your life energies have become stronger, not weaker", the old man said, patting him on the shoulder.
"What do you mean then?"
"What do you value most in life?"
"My freedom," Kirin replied without hesitation.
The High Warlock nodded, then looked at him in his expectant teacher manner.
"You are a scholar and a bard, Kirin. Didn't all those old songs and legends teach you about how it is possible to share someone's mind and memories in the way you described?"
Kirin stared at him. Had the old man gone mad? That was impossible!
"A Soul Bond? But I barely know him! I don't even like him!" he protested.
"You threw yourself into a lot of danger for someone you barely know and don't like," the old man said sternly.
Kirin's heart sank. "That wasn't … I am sorry, sir. But that ambush was truly unfair…"
The old man patted him on the head. "What's done is done. Let's focus on the problem at hand. Whatever bound you two together by accident or design, we have to get to the bottom of it."
"But I can't … I don't want to… How do I break it?"
The dark eyes filled with such pity that Kirin's heart sank even further.
"There is only one way to undo such a bond. One of you must die."