"Sol. I get that you like that name better than the one in the iron book.!"
Sol nodded, and Malakai continued. "You are in my faction. Unfortunately, I can't give you my Oathbound since you might already have two by now!"
Sol nodded again.
"I mean it when I say you are in my faction. I will sponsor your growth—all I want is your loyalty."
This time, Sol didn't nod. Without an Oathbound to bind him, he couldn't promise that. Especially now some have taken a liking to him and might offer more aid.
An elder brother of Malakai had already spoken to him and had even promised an Artifact. But because they had a week to decide, Sol hadn't accepted it yet.
"Young Master Malakai, Sol is honored to serve under you, but he and our master fear whether you can protect him!" Grandma Ginger said from the side.
Sol nodded. He had spoken with Zavien about the matter and decided to delay choosing any faction for now.
"I understand your concern, but as long as Sol swears loyalty, I will protect him." The crimson eyes of the boy were stern as he said, "I have a Grade 3 Artifact I'm willing to lend you. One that will attune to you!"
Sol's eyes lit up. His hand slid into his bag and brought out his book. Both Ginger and Malakai watched him patiently.
Sol wrote something and drew some circles before closing the book and holding it close to his chest.
Eyes closed and breath calm, an orb made of metal appeared before Sol. It looked like liquid iron and vibrated.
A clanking, high-pitched sound emerged. At first it made no sense, but then it became speech.
"Apologies, Young Master Malakai," Sol bowed before adding, "for the delay. But Young Master Samwil has spoken to me. He demanded that I join him too. This matter is out of my hands but in my master's hands!"
Malakai grew angrier before asking, "What sort of Oathbound did you get from the red pond?"
Sol blinked. The high-pitched sound came again from the small ball: "I don't know!"
"Have you checked the front cover? It should be under your real name!" Malakai said.
Sol was about to remove the fabric he had layered to hide his name when Zavien's voice came.
"Sol will join you. But it depends on what artifact you have?"
Malakai stared at the mountain of flesh that suddenly appeared before bringing out a glass. Inside was a picture of a small staff.
"Staff of Amplification?" Zavien nodded. "It is very good, young master. A neutral artifact sought after by many Mages."
"Yes. All Sol has to do is swear loyalty and he can have it until he outgrows it!" Malakai assured.
"Good. But how can you defend us against Samwil?" Zavien asked.
"Easy. There is an absolute rule: no one should interfere with anyone's subject. If Sol becomes my subject, Samwil can do nothing!"
"Alright. Sol will swear loyalty seven days from now, after he bonds with the staff!" Zavien made his verdict.
The young master smiled. "I will hold you to your word!" He turned and left.
***
"We won't choose him!" Zavien said, and Sol's eyes became confused, but he didn't question his master.
"Samwil is a dangerous man with connections in many places. Once he shows interest, he will go to great lengths just to see it through." He added with concern.
"But he is not serious," Grandma Ginger said. "He only acted because he was curious and nothing more. I bet he will just mistreat Sol for fun!"
"That is the problem," Zavien said. "We just need to make sure Sol gets into another, more powerful faction that Samwil can't touch."
Sol sneaked away, leaving the two to talk it through. His problem was out of his hands for now.
Inside his room, Sol's eyes landed on the front cover near his name.
Two symbols and their meanings reached him before his body trembled and he was filled with energy. But one remains vague.
"Interesting!" He smiled.
He liked what His Royal Highness had given him. It suited him well.
Oathbound Skill: Accurate Reasoning
It was a mental skill that allowed him to think clearly, connect ideas properly, and avoid faulty or emotional thinking.
Though it wasn't a drawback, using it dampened emotions to some degree to enable analytical thinking.
Sol immediately opened his book, went to his morphology section, and activated the Oathbound Skill.
Nothing changed at first, but as he began to read, information flowed faster, and ideas began connecting with one another.
Related points of information came together, bringing greater understanding.
For some reason, he realized that the very stable complex characters he thought were good actually weren't that great.
He could still tweak them based on hints and information Teacher Sabey Salvador had given them.
Sol gleaned another idea.
The Iron Book wasn't just a container of knowledge—he could use it to analyze information by itself. He had already used it that way.
By inputting all relevant information about human anatomy, then mapping his body and putting it inside, his body became surrounded with information about his anatomy.
However, he could make things faster. He could make the book analyze information and give him answers.
But to function that way, he needed to create the perfect stable unique word.
Sol flipped to the Eiros Class page and stared at it before dismantling it. It spread and immediately gleamed that he was missing something.
He needed a key or keys that would make everything seamless.
Perhaps accurate dates rather than Day 1 and Day 2. He fixed that, but it wasn't the main key.
He made sure the time of study was included. That would help, but it wasn't the main link.
Sol made some minor changes, but after ten minutes the Oathbound skill turned off and he sighed.
His head was pounding with a headache.
He was also thirsty. He drank some water before staring at the page. Though the skill was inactive, his thoughts were still aligned.
An idea came that made him sigh. He turned to where his name was written in his unique characters, standing out like a sore thumb.
His name was the key. He closed the book and leaned back on the bed.
Eyes red as tears rolled down his face.
***
Sol had been a chirpy, vibrant boy who loved to go outside the Clan. His usual playground was at the gate.
Guests, merchants, and travelers were something he loved to talk to because they brought stories with them.
One fateful day, an old man came with a young boy. They talked, exchanged names, and the old man said he had many stories to tell but needed a place to stay for the night.
Sol was more than happy to invite them inside the Clan. He hadn't realized that they couldn't step in until he said so.
He took them to his home and gave them water. His mother had no choice but to cook food for them, and they slept for the day before leaving.
From then on, the young boy and the old man came to visit from time to time. He came with stories, even sketches of distant kingdoms.
One fateful day, Sol was deep asleep when he saw the old man in a dream. The man said, "Invite us again."
The oblivious boy said, "Alright. Come in, welcome!"
His mother violently shook him awake. As his eyes opened, he saw purple mixed with red and green light filling the room.
"What are you saying in your dreams?" she shouted at him before an old grating voice echoed in the sky, followed by flapping wings and screeches of something unknown filling the air.
Sol's mother ran with him underground, but before they descended, the same voice echoed.
Sol's name was announced and declared that he had allowed them entry to the sacred ground.
"Liars. No descendant will be deceived,"
The patriarch of the clan's voice echoed, but that visitor old man appeared before him.
"He did before, and now he did again. My boy is his friend."
A grin came to the old man that stretched beyond his skull.
"Feast on them. Bring the boy, let him watch. Let us consume his fear, let us consume his dread and despair. Let us show him paradise in blood."
Sol was brought to him, and that began the horrors that wiped out his whole clan, leaving him the only survivor.
Ever since that day, Sol lost his ability to talk.
His mind was shattered—and was supposed to live perpetually in that state forever.
But someone came and saved him.
The person also healed him and buried the memories, but made it so that the more he grew, the more he remembered.
The man then sold him as a slave to Zavien's niece, and he ended up with Zavien.
He hated his name because it was the conduit that allowed the demons entry.
Zavien was the one who made him understand what happened to his family.
Those demons were the type that didn't feed on flesh or bones—they fed on fear, dread, and all negative emotions.
If he hadn't been saved, he would have been cattle for them, always generating the negative emotions they craved.
The demons were known to have come from the outside of the kingdom and they seek to topple the Golden Capital.