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“Waaah–!” He yelled out.

Though as he fell, again he recollected what happened last time as he was given a comfortable landing from a bed of violet flowers, which had a silky, almost cloud-like softness to them.

“Oh…right, thanks again, flowers,” he quietly showed his gratitude before picking himself up.

If this is playing out the exact same way as last time, then what should be down here is that statue…He thought.

As he looked up, he predicted as much as he found himself staring at the eye-shaped statue that was somewhat hidden by vines: the “Origin Altar.”

When seeing that enigmatic, statuesque eye, a shiver ran down his spine as he remembered what happened the last time he came into contact with it.

“You’re not worthy–yet”–that’s what I was told before being kicked out without a second word. I wonder…am I worthy now? At least give me the requirements before sending me packing, he thought.

Slowly approaching the Eye of Origin, he hesitated to place his hand against it out of fear of being rejected once more, but realized there was no other choice but to face reality and get it over with.

If this works…what happens, then? Will I actually find my Soulbound Spirit? He questioned.

There was no other way to find out but to simply go forward. He did as much as he slowly pressed his bare palm against the cold stone of the Origin Alter.

Almost immediately, he felt the overwhelming sensation of his own soul being present in his body as if it gained its own nerve endings. It caused his entire body to freeze up as if turned to stone, forced to stand there like a statue as though his soul, buried deep within the core of his being, was the only animate part of himself.

A few seconds passed, and no such whisper of rejection grazed his ear as he found a small hope resting in that reality.

Is it working this time…? He thought.

“You…are worthy.”

An enigmatic voice of a woman slipped into the canals of his ear, sending a chill over his body as goosebumps came and his hair stuck up, but at the same time, it was an exciting feeling.

While remaining frozen with his fingertips pressed against the Eye of Origin, the scenery around him crumbled away as the shadowy cavern shifted into a spiraling chamber, inscribed with primordial knowledge that rested in the cosmic-shaded stone that created it.

What is this?…He questioned.

Suddenly, the Eye of Origin slid backward, moving away from his touch as he regained autonomy, taking in large inhales of air as he was finally able to control his lungs again.

Coughing out, he found himself sweating, struggling for air as it was sparse in the enigmatic space.

The density of mana…It’s different than on Arcadius, he thought.

Bringing his gaze up, he nearly fell over backwards as he was met face-to-face with a figure dressed in black-and-silver, wearing a hood that made them seem faceless, though it was impossible to tell if it was simply shadows hiding their appearance or not. They wore a silver ring on each of their fingers, covered by jet-black gloves.

“Do not be frightened, young one,” a surprisingly kind, masculine voice emitted from the mysterious figure.

“…Who are you?” He asked.

“I’m the Courier,” the figure explained, placing a hand over his chest, “I guide one’s ‘Soulbound Spirit’ to them if they’re proven worthy by the Eye of Origin. Now, please, hold out your hand.”

Though he was utterly perplexed, still hardly knowing why he ended up in the Astral Realm to begin with, he only hesitated for a second before extending his hand with his palm facing downward.

The Courier gently took his hand, turning it so his palm faced the abyssal sky before running his index finger over the skin of his palm lightly, creating a slight ticklish sensation.

What’s he doing….? He questioned.

As he watched the Courier guide his finger around his palm, he realized a seal was being inscribed on his skin: it was a six-pointed star, etched of darkness.

“All done. This seal acts as the bond between you and your soulbound spirit; simply focus your mana onto your palm and call upon your familiar with full intent,” the Courier explained, “But first, you should meet your soulbound spirit.”

“Yeah…I was going to ask about that. But, I have another question, err, Mr. Courier?” He said, looking at the new seal on his hand as he squeezed his fist a few times.

The hooded figure looked at him, “What is it?”

“Why was I brought here?…And why was I ‘worthy’ this time?” He asked.

“Ah. Those are questions I cannot answer, young one,” the Courier explained, “You will perhaps understand with time. However, I can tell you that if one has an affinity for spirits, it is most likely that one will gain worthiness in times of desperation. In cases like this, it may be that your Soulbound Spirit cut some corners with the intent to aid you. Now then, I will leave you two to meet…”

“You ‘two’?” He repeated.

For a moment, he forgot about the fact he was about to meet his ‘Soulbound Spirit’–something he didn’t know what to expect from in the slightest. Before he could even get further details from the Courier, the all-black figure vanished almost as if blending into the darkness seamlessly.

“One question answered, two more raised…” He mumbled to himself.

“Hey.”

He nearly jumped from the sudden sound, spinning around as he looked for the source of the childlike, but jaded tone.

As he lowered his gaze, he found a small girl, dressed in an all-black, gothic dress looking up at him with unique eyes that had “X”-shaped, silver pupils, matching her platinum hair that was kept in prominent pigtails.

A little girl? He thought.

“You just called me a ‘little girl’, didn’t you?” The girl said, furrowing her eyebrows with her hands on her hips.

“–No? I didn’t say anything–”

“I’m not little. Say that again and I’ll blast–”

Before the platinum-haired girl could finish, she vanished, and in place of her stood an adult male, dressed in a well-adjusted suit with long, scarlet hair.

“Forgive Hextrice,” the scarlet-haired man said with a smile, “She’s always been temperamental–she’s just excited to meet you. I’m Gavill, by the way.”

What the hell is going on? He thought.

Accepting the extended hand from the mysterious man, he shook it slowly before letting out the question he held, “…Sorry, but what’s going on? Which one of you is my Soulbound Spirit? The little–I mean, Hextrice, or you?”

The man looked at him with his eyes mostly hidden by his bright-red bangs, “Both.”