Theodric was sitting on a large grassy patch of ground, back against Barkly, relaxedly sipping cold water from his magical cooling-flask and watching over five of his students and their familiars. All of which were sitting in respective pairs across each other, practising and getting used to each other in the meditative state Theodric had taught, reaching out across their bonds and strengthening it by repetitively feeling each others’ thoughts.

  Or they were supposed to, Theodric chuckled as he poked a sleeping student in the back with a root he controlled with magic. He couldn’t blame the boy, who yelped an apology. The grass under his bottom and the Theo-sized-nook in Barkly’s side he had always squished into, was too comfy to move from. It was really nice weather as well, with blue skies and big fluffy clouds.

  The world was tranquil and calm, opposed to the usual hustle and bustle of the school castle. It's good news that the boy, Kael, was comfortable enough with his familiar that he could fall asleep—that meant their connection was strong and the bonding exercise was working. Theodric mused, enjoying the short break that came with the school hunt—he got to stretch his legs and swing his sword again, and he got to just lay down and chill with his familiar—what more could a man want?

  Theodric briefly considered taking a nap, but as their teacher, how could he, when all his students—except Kael—were all working hard? So he too, closed his eyes and focused inward.

  The grisly sight of his mangled soul greeted him, and he greeted it back with a pained grimace. The normally sphere-shaped ball of gray light, now more akin to a frayed silver net with more holes than substance, of which the caricature of a soul rotated weakly. And like water, mana from his Rings had been leaking uncontrollably, escaping the control of his net of a soul.

  Theodric had been having difficulty controlling and casting spells since rapidly expanding his soul way past its limit—every time he tried resulted in a world of hurt as his soul struggled like a slug in a bowl of salt. It made sense, as the soul controls and attracts mana to itself—the strength of a mage was determined by the ability of their soul to retain and apply its Mana Rings.

  Theodric winced, the simple flick with the root had made his gray soul throb painfully in his chest. He knew that it would hurt, but he still did it, just to see if it would still hurt again.

  Which it did.

  Theodric didn’t know why he always prod and move his injuries, even though he knew it would hurt and make it worse—which never failed to infuriate his battalion’s chief medic to no end. At least he wasn’t the only one in the team to drive her up the wall.

  Theodric sat and reminisced about his time in the War with his dear brothers in arms, fighting and training. He definitely missed them and the sense of belonging.

  Nostalgia marred by grief and trauma filled his head, but Theodric wouldn’t trade those memories for peace of mind—they were a part of him and his life now.

  So Theodric was relieved to find most of his memories intact after incurring massive soul damage. On one hand, he hypothesized that, unlike the hole blown from his familiar’s death, this time his soul was crudely stretched and snapped—so ultimately nothing was lost. On the other hand, Theodric wasn’t sure he’d know what he had forgotten, but after scouring for gaps or time-skips, he was fairly certain that, besides the memory lost from the last soul damage, nothing else was lost this time.

  Yes. Fairly certain.

  Stolen story; please report.

  But it goes without reason why Theodric needed healing, and needed it soon—he’s vulnerable while owning rare and powerful familiars. He’s basically a sitting duck that poops gold, and Theodric already had a sneaking suspicion that his handicap would soon be found and exploited by a few certain someones. Headmaster Ravencrest’s presence helped protect him within the school, but rival Houses wouldn’t let that stop their greed so easily.

  Theodric considered quitting teaching and moving back to his House’s estate while he recuperated, but soul damage was hard to heal—even the previous small chunk he suffered had not completely healed even after years of rest as a professor at Elderglow.

  No, hiding was simply not a long term solution, and he loathed being stuck inside again.

  Theodric’s best solution was to seek asylum at the Grand Temple of Light, and receive spiritual treatment and healing from the priests there. They didn't turn anyone away and they had the best healers there.

  As long as you have deep coffers filled with shiny gold of course.

  The biggest problem however, wasn’t even the hefty sum of money he’d have to cough up for Holy Water. No, it was that the Temple was built in the Kingdom of Daclecia, the neighbouring country of the Aberron Empire, and traveling there while injured and trying to avoid too much attention, was not going to be easy. Especially not with a bright green forest dragon in all its 15 feet of grassy wingspan glory.

  In some cases it would be a great deterrent for bandits, but his enemies would probably come after him with their own personal army—which might be too much even for Morvax.

  Not that Theodric’s going to voice his doubts aloud to the proud dragon of course.

  I heard that!

  He flinched in surprise when Morvax shouted down their familiar bond angrily.

  Whoops.

  Theodric’s mental block on the bond must’ve gotten weaker as well, as he hadn’t needed to consciously unblock anything when he accidentally leaked his thoughts. There were certainly downsides to when his familiars were all connected to his mind.

  Privacy was one of the first privileges to be lost. Another reason why a lot of summoners afterwards had regrets and chose to terminate their bond—no matter how damaging or fatal it was. Theodric understood, as it was an intimate thing to have, and a lot of sacrifices had to be made to accommodate their beastly companion. Especially when they were sentient and have their own opinions: it's hard to agree on things that way.

  And you’d think it would be easier when you could read each other’s minds, but oftentimes when your inner voice was already too loud to think with, adding a second obnoxious voice in the mix really gives ‘brainstorming’ a new meaning.

  Is the classes’ hunt for the Oakmane Boar going well?

  Theodric haphazardly changed the topic away from himself, reaching for the glowing strands sprouting from his soul, leading to Morvax’s and Valendor’s souls.

  Don’t try to change the subject! We’ll have a deep ‘heart to heart’ 'complaint session' about this later. But yes, the students are doing well and on schedule; we might even return to the camp early at this rate.

  Morvax harrumphed. Valendor on the other hand mentally flinched and quickly clamped down on the bond. Theodric could tell that he tried his best, but he could still sense the Night Warden internally screaming through the gaps of the wall despite his best efforts. Theodric found it quite endearing.

  Theodric tried to reassure and encourage the Night Warden, gently sending him a thought as if slipping a note under the door, but that only made him scream louder and more hysterically. And Theodric can sense Valendor trying to saw the bond off with pure thought and sheer willpower.

  Whoops.

  Theodric found it even more endearing. And even a little funny. Then he felt bad that he found amusement from the Night Warden’s obvious discomfort. He sighed.

  You’re right Morvax, we do need to talk. But it's about my soul injury, we need to plan on what to do about it. We’ll probably have to go to the Great Temple, but I’m open to any alternatives. I’m not keen on using up all my life savings or loaning money from my House, their coffers hold dust nowadays, I can’t trouble the Head even more, he’s probably busy working to keep the House afloat. Try to think of some connections you might have who could help. See you all back at camp.