A soft knock came at the door.

“Can I come in?”

It was Nora’s voice.

Audree blinked the sleep from his eyes, wincing as he sat up.

“Yeah... you’re fine,” he called.

The door opened, and Nora stepped in—followed by someone Audree definitely didn’t recognize.

A woman, tall and composed, dressed in elegant robes of black and deep crimson. A pointed hat sat atop her head, casting shadows over her sharp eyes. In one hand, she carried a staff of silvered metal, its head encasing an orb of swirling red liquid that glowed faintly, pulsing like a heartbeat.

Audree stiffened.

Magic guard? Enforcer? Was she here to arrest him for—

Nora smiled gently. “Now that you’re awake... she can help.”

She gestured toward the imposing figure. “This is an old friend. A blood mage. Her name is Velra Runeswell.”

Velra dipped her head, staff clicking softly against the floor.

“Yes, Nora called for me when things... escalated,” Velra said, her voice warm, but with an unmistakable weight behind it. “And I came as soon as I could.”

She stepped closer, studying Audree with a curious expression. “I remember when you were just the size of a wolf’s heart. Ah, those were the days. I was heartbroken at the thought of Nora losing her little baby Audree.”

Audree blinked. “Uh... yeah…”

Velra smiled.

“Now,” she said, her tone shifting into something more focused. “You must be in considerable pain. Let me take a look at the damage.”

Audree hesitated. He was still sore—most of his body ached—but the worst of it had faded, especially along his side where the slime had somehow... healed him? Or maybe he’d healed it and it had returned the favor?

None of this made sense.

Velra approached, kneeling beside the bed.

“Let’s see what we’re dealing with,” she murmured.

She gently took his right arm—Audree flinched instinctively, but her grip was light—and rolled back the sleeve.

Then she stopped.

Her eyes widened slightly.

“What in the world... have you all been getting up to?”

Nora immediately leaned forward. “What? What’s wrong?”

Velra turned the arm slightly to show her—the golden runes still faintly glowing, etched into the skin like living ink. And at the center of Audree’s palm...

The golden cauldron.

With the green skull.

And that haunting smile.

Velra’s expression darkened.

“Audree,” she said carefully, “can you tell me—exactly—what happened?”

For the next ten minutes, Audree explained everything.

Leif. The makeshift arm contraption. The runes. The spellbook that was really just his old notebook. The slime. The surge of mana. The explosion.

And the dream.

He left nothing out—not even the statue with the axe, or the green fire, or the throne.

When he finally stopped talking, the room was quiet.

Velra stood still, arms crossed, watching him with a tilted head and narrowed eyes.

Then she let out a long, measured breath.

“Well,” she said slowly, “that was all... very interesting.”

She nodded, her voice softer for a moment. “You’re clearly a smart boy. Gifted, even, when it comes to magical theory.”

Audree blinked. “Uh... thanks?”

Her expression changed in a heartbeat.

“But also,” she said flatly, “incredibly stupid.”

Audree wilted slightly.

“Magic,” she continued, pacing slowly, “is not something you play with. And runes—especially runes—are more dangerous than alchemy ever could be. One wrong stroke, and boom. Excuse my language, but you’re lucky to be alive.”

Audree stared down at his sheets, deflated.

“But...” Velra added, her tone softening again, “you may have a bright future ahead of you. Assuming you don’t blow yourself up again.”

She leaned over, studying the runes on his arm more carefully now.

“I recognize some of these—elemental, channeling patterns... But others?” She squinted. “These... I’ve never seen before. Where did you learn about these?”

Audree hesitated. “From a book I got at Haldo’s library.”

Velra raised a brow. “Ah. So the old man is still alive and hiding out here.” Her lips curled slightly. “I’ll have to pay him a visit.”

She looked like she was already plotting something.

“Do you still have the book?”

“Uh...” Audree glanced around. “It should be in my bag.”

Nora winced. “Um... your bag kind of... exploded.”

“What?” Audree’s face dropped. “Even my bag?”

He slumped against the pillows, sighing deeply. “This is worse than I thought.”

Velra chuckled under her breath. “Well, I guess I will have to bother that old coot, then.”

She straightened, her staff tapping against the floor.

“Anyways, I’m glad you weren’t dabbling in some sort of witchcraft deals. Those can leave you with... problems.” She gave him a sharp look. “Not like you don’t already have one.”

Audree narrowed his eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Velra ignored the question.

“Now, that dream of yours... the throne, the lake, the statue?”

She folded her arms again.

“You probably weren’t dreaming at all. More likely... you were in your soul space.”

Audree blinked.

“Soul space?”

Velra gave him a tight smile.

“Oh, we’re definitely going to talk about that.”

“So,” Velra began, tapping her staff lightly against the floor, “your soul space—it’s exactly what it sounds like. It’s where your soul resides, a private realm formed by your mana. Most mages only ever see it when meditating or dreaming deeply. It’s a sort of... inner sanctum.”

She studied Audree carefully. “And the fact that you accessed it? That means you have mana. Your soul has formed a stable structure—only mages can do that.”

“Okay...” Audree said slowly. “So what’s the catch?”

“Normally,” Velra said, “when someone has a soul space, they also have a keyword. A word that reflects their soul’s nature and determines what sort of magic is easiest for them to access. What’s yours?”

Audree looked down. “I... don’t have one. I’ve never been tested.”

Velra blinked. “What?”

Nora chimed in from the corner, arms crossed. “We never had him tested. Those tests are expensive, and most folks don’t take them unless the child shows signs of magical aptitude. He didn’t, not by thirteen, so...”

“It would’ve been a waste,” Audree finished.

Velra let out a sharp exhale and rubbed her temples. “You people in Aurumhold confuse me. In my country, everyone gets tested—even if it’s rare to find someone compatible, it’s still worth checking. Imagine how many mages you’ve let slip through the cracks just because of your kingdom’s obsession with profit.”

She held up a hand before anyone could respond.

“Okay, okay. Let’s not get political.”

Audree shifted. “What’s your keyword?”

Velra grinned. “Ah ah ah. Rule number one of being a mage—never tell someone your keyword.”

“But you just asked for mine!”

“And that,” she said, booping him gently on the nose with her finger, “would’ve been your mistake.”

Audree scowled. “Unfair.”

“Absolutely,” she said, entirely unbothered.

She walked to the side of the bed, tapping her chin in thought.

“Based on what you described from your dream... the soul space is supposed to reflect a core truth about the mage. Their nature, their drive. You said there was a cauldron—alchemy. That makes perfect sense, considering your talents.”

She began pacing slowly.

“But the throne... that’s more complicated. Symbol of power, rulership, control. It could represent a hidden part of you—ambition, maybe. Or destiny.”

“And the woman?” Nora asked, her voice quiet.

Velra paused.

“She could’ve been a god. Or a being acting as one. You said she had an axe? Braided hair? Wings?”

Audree nodded. “And a rune in her palm. One I didn’t recognize.”

“Sounds like some kind of divine figure. I’ve read accounts—priests sometimes describe similar visions when they're chosen by higher powers. But usually those priests are keywordless... except in Sanctaris.”

She trailed off, brows furrowed.

Audree thought for a moment, Sanctaris? Going back on what he could remember, Sanctaris was a country that people would go on long travels to reach. Some sort of holy country. All the people that went there mainly went there to get closer to their god or something like that.

“Nothing about this makes sense. I’ve never heard of a goddess wielding an axe. And yet... that presence, that power. It lines up.” Velra tapped her staff on the ground.

She turned back to Audree, her gaze sharp.

Audree swallowed.

“So,” she said, tracing the symbol with her finger, “from what you described... it sounds like you chose that throne—the cauldron throne, as you called it.”

She tapped the center of his palm.

“Here’s the cauldron... and all this gold? That’s probably tied to the throne’s symbolism—power, sovereignty, something ancient. But this...”

She pointed to the purple skull hovering above the cauldron mark.

“You said the statue smiled just before the green flame overtook it, right? That could be her—whatever she was—leaving her mark. Some lingering influence.”

She straightened, letting out a breath.

“This is mostly theorycrafting. Magic can be... inconsistent. Especially when gods, old realms, and soul spaces are involved. Until we figure out your keyword, we’re working with half a map.”

She looked him in the eye.

“But tell me, can you feel your mana pool now? Even a little?”

Audree hesitated, his brows furrowing. “That’s the thing—I don’t think I have one. When I was linked with the slime... I could feel what mana was supposed to feel like. How it flowed, pulsed, moved.”

He flexed his hand slightly.

“But in myself? I’ve never felt that. Not even now.”

Velra stilled.

“You said you felt the slime’s mana pool?” Her voice dropped, serious now.

“Yeah,” Audree replied, “like... I could sense it. It let me channel spells. But that was all from it, not me.”

Velra stepped back, pacing slightly.

“That’s not supposed to be possible. Mana is personal—unique. There are contracts, channels, summoned familiars... even magical relics. But accessing another being’s mana pool directly?”

She shook her head.

“That’s a new one.”

She turned, her robes flaring slightly with the motion.

“This is getting too big for idle chat. I need to heal you as best I can—then we’re going somewhere.”

She left her staff standing upright on the floor. Its red liquid orb pulsed faintly with each breath she took.

“Norra,” she said, her tone gentle, “I’ll need you to step outside. Just for now.”

Nora looked hesitant. “Just... don’t hurt him any more than he already is.”

“I’ll try not to,” Velra said with a wry smile.

Nora cast one last look at Audree, then nodded and slipped out, closing the door behind her with a soft click.

Velra cracked her knuckles, rolled her shoulders, and said with a tone too casual for the situation, “Welp. Let’s begin.”

She raised her staff. The orb at its tip began to swirl—red liquid churning violently inside like it had been set to boil. Her voice shifted, deepening as she chanted an incantation in a language Audree didn’t recognize. Old. Alien.

The air thickened.

Objects in the room began to float—the glass vials and potion jars trembling, levitating slightly off nearby shelves. A low hum built around them like an invisible chorus of voices.

Audree winced. He could feel it—the magic. Not his own. Hers. Flowing toward him like a river of heat and pressure.

And then—

Green.

His arm, the one marked by the throne’s rune, flared. Not red like Velra’s magic. Green—sickly, wild, hungry.

Velra gasped and staggered back, clutching her staff. “Shit—what the—”

She cut the spell instantly.

The green energy still flowed. It snaked through Audree’s veins, his runes pulsing like living things. The cauldron symbol on his hand glowed brighter, the skull above it curling its grin into something closer to laughter. The air itself seemed to shiver.

And then—silence.

The glow faded.

Velra caught her breath, her expression hard to read.

Audree looked at her. “So... was that supposed to happen?”

“No.” She rubbed her forehead, shaken. “That wasn’t healing. That was... theft. Whatever’s in you, Audree, it didn’t just absorb my mana. It took it. Like a parasite. It felt... greedy. Like it would’ve drained me dry if I let it.”

Audree said nothing. He couldn’t. His hand was still tingling, faintly warm from the unnatural magic.

Just then, the slime—who’d been quietly resting—suddenly wobbled onto the bed. It seemed to sense the residual energy. With a low, wet sound, it pressed itself against Audree’s marked hand.

The green light flared once more—but this time, dimly, gently. The slime absorbed the excess mana, drawing it away from the cauldron and skull like water soaking into cloth. It gave a rumbling gurgle—something like a cat’s purr—and curled next to Audree’s side.

Velra stared. “Right…”

“I’m not sure what that was,” Audree muttered. “I don’t think I ever have been.”

Velra finally exhaled and backed away. “You, Audree, are something strange. And I don’t mean that lightly.”

She turned to the door. “I need to speak with the old man—Haldo. Maybe he can make sense of all this. In the meantime, you are to rest. No more experiments. No more spells. Let Ina handle the healing with potions. You’ve got... something wrong, and I need time to figure out what it is.”

Audree nodded. “Sure, I guess.”

Velra gave one last uneasy glance at the still-glowing rune on his hand, then stepped out.

Moments later, the door creaked open again, and Nora walked in with a gentle smile and a bowl of steaming broth.