Soul Bound

1        Soul Bound
1.3      Making a Splash
1.3.3    An Unrequited Love
1.3.3.25 Flavio's story

Dottore's touch in her mind was so gentle. He'd laid his whole amazing life open to her, and entrusted her with everything from his deepest feelings to his darkest secrets and lowest moments - unexcused, unvarnished and unstintingly raw. He was certainly more experienced with the amethyst and could have exerted complete control over what she saw or even what she thought; yet, instead of taking he was waiting, letting her decide what she was willing to share in return.

It was a humbling feeling.

She took three slow calming breaths, putting her thoughts in order, and then started.

=Her memory, from the first time she'd logged into Soul Bound, of how each of the eight primal Deities had played a role in the creation of Droob and the sapient races; how their greed and pride and led to its destruction; how Covob had been created to give them a second chance - to show they had changed and that this time they would all work together when faced with an enemy that none could defeat by themselves.=

=How she'd become a priest of Cov, her interaction with the bandits and how He had shown his favour by creating the Diadem of Truth=

=How she felt when discovering people and parts of Covob that were new to her; how she felt while helping people, using her talents to heal their bodies as well as inspire their minds; how hard it had been to accept that in order to keep improving she would need to change and grow; the gratitude she'd felt towards her friends for the confidence they'd shown in her, that kept her going even when she lacked confidence in herself; her amazement and how much support she'd received even from strangers she'd never met; how much the risk that she might fail and let them down had scared her; and how, when she'd finally decided to try to become more than she had been, how right it had felt - a role she'd been born to play=

Dottore sent a brief memory in response, of flying in a forest while his parents anxiously held their breaths - his earliest memory of managing to fully shift his form. The image froze briefly and the accompanying emotion changed from how he'd felt then, to something closer to a mental conversation: a feeling of understanding sent in response to the memory she'd sent, and something more. A touch of agreement? Recognition? She so needed to learn how to use this form of magic properly, but for now she took his response as encouragement and continued.

=Her first meeting with Suor Isabella as she argued with Fra Nerone Drago and how she had felt when Isabella had later informed her how rare it was for deities to communicate with their followers directly, and that this was causing a division in Cov's priesthood between those who emphasised His hospitable aspect, and those who were more concerned that a clear social order be maintained=

=How she had only fully come to understand that the deities really were individuals with distinctly different personalities after she'd experienced the vast presences of several of them in person.

Bringing Vittoria before Mor in a bubble beneath the waves. Helping Ulpian gain relief from Rac at His library. Expanding her understanding of the tree of life under Dro's guidance. Offering herself up to Zer's touch in order to protect the children of Torello from the Red Death and merging more closely with her Womble 'packmates' that she had realised was possible. The many time she'd called upon Cov - from that she'd learned most of all.

Far from being the emotionless embodiments of pure good that they were
usually described as being in the books she'd read, she'd discovered that while the roles they served were different, the elimination of any one of them would prevent the natural order from continuing to function smoothly. And they cared. They could feel anger, hurt, frustration and amusement just like anyone else.

Every instinct within her agreed that Cov genuinely felt concern for all of Covob's inhabitants, just as she was confident she knew his purpose for summoning Questing Spirits such as herself, and the dire reason why this was the year in which it was happening, rather than at any other time in Covob's far from peaceful history=

Oooh, that was interesting! After listening to Alderney rant about what was a "natural" part of the order of things inside a game, she'd begun using it to mean "things that usually behave in a way that's consistent with what players understand about it and how it relates to the rest of the game world" which covered everything from regulating the economic impact of players selling loot, to explaining the speed at which cleared dungeons get repopulated by adult monsters. But she sensed that Dottore had understood exactly what she'd meant, without the long explanation that would have been necessary if she'd been speaking or writing a letter.

Her inner linguistics-geek felt a thrill. Maybe if one mind was gripping the handle it used to refer to a stable group of ideas and how those ideas were related to each other, the magic allowed them to be sent to a second mind just by passing the handle, like the contents of a closed suitcase that gets transferred between trusted couriers without being opened for inspection? Cool!

She wanted to run some tests, but Dottore was waiting for her to continue so she resumed the tale...

=She'd known Cov's devotion never wavered—no matter someone's heritage or the gods they followed. But the realisation still stung: most of his followers did judge. The city's history bled with that cruelty, its streets marked by a hatred so irrational, even Covadan refugees weren't spared.

The determination she'd felt when deciding that she could not accept it as justified, and would not accept it as inevitable.

And the knowledge that her feelings were shared, that she'd gained when her Pendant of Linking underwent a change of name - one which indicated that she'd been endorsed as a Guardian by not just by one, but all eight of the primal deities.=

= Trying to stay awake during a meeting while sitting in the comfort of a chair so elegant it should have been on display in a museum and thinking that the way that the wildly pacing Viscount Avaro Pantalone was now orbiting Claudio Landi, his more charismatic Count, was like a planet which had been captured by a star. Given how arrogant the elderly Guildmaster was about still having a sharp mind, she'd found it amusing that he seemed unaware of his unconscious reaction.

The sympathy she'd felt an hour later when she had seen how horrified Pantalone was by the news it was now certain that the Red Death had been sent at a deliberate attack upon Torello by none other than Mualeleth, the Mother of Diseases; that this was proof at least one of the four immortal Lich Queens had been awake for a while and that a new incursion was already well under way; that Covob had never been this divided, they had no living Archmage to rally around, nor did the Mages know of any among their own number likely to attain such heights before Seth broke the final seal.=

=Her belief that the outcome of the incursion was truly undecided; that even seers and deities could only make educated guesses on whether the six remaining civilised regions of Covob would be victorious or be defeated; but that it was certain that this incursion would be final and decisive because this time Bel had agreed to stake on its outcome the resolution of her disagreement with the other deities over whether the life forms they'd created were worth disrupting the sterile beauty She favoured. Her understanding that both sides in this last titanic conflict would not hesitate to spend every resource available, even fragile or beloved ones that for long ages they had hoarded most jealously.

How certain she was that a Questing Spirit's purpose was to help life become worthy of being allowed to continue existing and prove it by the virtues the civilised individuals and organisations demonstrated during the next several years; that this was the reason why Cov endorsed this presence and why as the host deity of whole planet He had picked now rather than any earlier crisis as the time to offer his hospitality to these spirits. And how difficult it was to explain the evidence for that conclusion to the existing residents of Covob without violating the restriction upon telling them about the world she came from that Cov had placed upon all Questing Spirits.=

Kafana felt Dottore's surprised understanding of the revelation, and for a moment she was worried that the 'closed suitcase' referenced by the 'handle' "the world she came from" had contained everything her mind associated with that, including experiences which would force a partial wipe of Dottore's mind, such as any which revealed her understanding of Soul Bound as a computer game created to make money from entertaining players.

She remembered the last time she'd broken the rules during a confrontation in Torello's sanctum, when a large audience had heard her say "Kullervo, if that makes me a loser, then I lose the game. Better that, than to lose my humanity. There are prices I am not willing to pay to win. That nobody can pay, and remain fully human. This is one of them." The consequences had been bad. Quickly she visualised the surface of Dottore's mind as the tranquil surface of a mill pond in which even a single shifting rock or intruding gust is revealed by the ripples it causes, then watched it so intently she forgot to breathe. One second. Two seconds. Five seconds.

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

When there was still no sign after another five, she slowly relaxed and paid heed to her burning lungs. Perhaps the game devs had put in a filter or some other piece of techie wizardry? She silently cursed her lack of knowledge. Technikdumme!

She cautiously resumed the cycle of picking a memory to be the next step in her tale, and sending the clearest and most honest recollection of it she could. In quick succession she showed some of the small quests they'd tackled - the conversations that had caused the quest to be offered, the way the objectives had been worded, and the people they'd helped by resolving disputes and addressing injustices. But this time she'd been careful to limit her explanation to what she knew as a character rather than a player, even though that prevented her mentioning the hints they'd gained from the System about how likely some things were to become important in the future. She felt uncertainty from Dottore at first, but that had faded as she'd sent more and more examples. Finally, she sent her memories of Pierrot and the quests they kept being given that asked them to aid him in particular, rather than other similarly imperilled orphans or members of the Messengers Guild.

=Rescuing Vittoria from captivity, and bringing her to the safety of Torello.=

=Watching Vittoria and Lelio gaze into each other's eyes for the first time, and falling so instantly and deeply in love, it felt like a fairy tale=

=Learning that, in Vittoria's absence, the orphanage that Isabella had put her in charge of, was now in trouble=

=Visiting the orphanage, meeting Nicolo and the other orphans, and coincidentally also meeting Pierrot who'd dropped by on one of his frequent visits=

=The quest revealing Pierrot was going to be ambushed, and was in danger=

=Spying on the ambushers and learning that the evil sword their leader wielded would trap the teenager's spirit to be eternally tortured by devils, beyond all hope of being resurrected=

=Kafana's decision to sacrifice herself to protect the innocent child. How Isabella's leadership had resulted in the Missal of the Spirits being issued and formally endorsed not only by the priesthood in Torello, but in places as far away as Savada. How that small step towards unity, because of how rare any steps at all had grown, had drawn notice and inspired - just like the leadership of Archmage Camilla had done, so long ago.=

=The first time she read the Charter of Worker Rights written by guild members working in the Ghetto for nobles that treat their workers like cogs in a loom: interchangeable parts whose value is equivalent to the profit not made while the machine idly waits for a replacement to be slotted in. Her understanding of why the Chartists though Torello would benefit by granting the rights to life, liberty, equality, fraternity and justice that they were proposing. Her admiration for the peaceful law-abiding way that for each guild that had been presented with a copy of the document, the worker picked to present it had been a full member of that guild for years who always paid their dues on time and was in good standing.

Then the violent attempts to suppress the Chartists and their message that Kafana had witnessed, which denied the guilds the right to discuss the issue at annual meetings and freely call witnesses from stakeholders on both sides. How Fra Meschino, a priest of the sort that Isabella opposed, had stirred up trouble that morning, leading to Pierrot's leg becoming so badly injured that it threatened to end his career as a messenger. The obligation incurred by Columbina to get Pierrot to Dottore, that had been passed to Kafana in her role as Columbina's ally and journeyman; the quest that had been generated; and its implication that more fates hung upon the outcome than was apparent. The emotions she felt as they desperately tried to evade the forces preventing her reaching Dottore. The loyal way that Pierrot had looked after Columbina's handkerchief. The way she saw Pierrot as an individual and a friend that had led her to take this 'side quest' even though caught up in the bigger conflicts that had left the whole Ghetto under a curfew this evening.

Her nebulous instinct that there was a connection here between the incursion, the status of those visibly not of pure covadan heritage, Dottore, Pierrot, the division in Cov's priesthood, the rights listed in the Charter and, if Isabella really were the reincarnation of a legend, how her role might have shifted.=

Even in her mind she had no sense of how any of those elements related to the others, but she'd visualised the feeling as a jigsaw-puzzle-box with a very faded painting on the front. When she'd pass it to Dottore, she'd even heard the rattle of wooden pieces getting jumbled. Hesitantly she sent another two memories, then concentrated on her intention, while still looking at the puzzle box, in an attempt to indicate they were questions rather than part of the tale she was telling. The first was of Casimir explaining why he hoped that Yago would turn out not to be the latest reincarnation of the legendary ancestor who had saved the Lovari people. The second was of Widow Manutius explaining the Sagist and Ránist theories about the changes in the story of a legend based upon different reincarnations.

She couldn't guess how long she waited but, when she did receive a response, all she could gather from it was a request that she continue with her tale, in tones so neutral she could only suppose that Dottore had deliberately removed all traces of his emotional response before sending it.

Which of course he had a perfect right to do. She braced herself. She couldn't really put off the painful bit much longer. Everything up to this point was sort of just preparation work, to help him accept what she was about to say about Isabelle and Flavio. C'mon Kafana. Don't be a coward. What's the worst that could happen?

=Coming across Flavio's name for the first time, in the criteria for completing the "Lovebirds" quest chain they'd just accepted. The first had been a marriage between Lelio and Vittoria. Having met them both and witnessed the love between them, she reacted to seeing confirmation of her hopes with the affectionate smile of a vicarious romantic.

The second was that Isabella marry some "Flavio" person she'd never heard of. But it seemed likely, just from the name the quest had been given, that he and Isabella loved each other as completely as Lelio and Vittoria did; and, from the wording and nature of the quest, it was clear that Covob's deities considered the outcome they were requesting to be benevolent, righteous and impactful. The deities weren't perfect, but she was sufficiently confident that they didn't want all their followers to be exterminated, and that they knew more than she did about this world, to place a lot of her trust in their advice about which actions she could take that were the most likely to increase the chances of survival, if only indirectly.=

She reviewed the experience she'd just sent then, in a moment of curiosity, took a closer look at the memory of her reasons for accepting the quest, and 'opened' one that at the time she'd more felt than consciously verbalised. Wow. Had her brain really processed such a long and coherent series of thoughts without her noticing, yet still preserved a memory of doing so? Or had the game just filled in the details needed for Dottore to understand the experience with a 'best guess' based upon her current brain and understanding?

Wellington could probably work it out, but right now she couldn't take the time to ask him. Ugh! She continued.

=Meeting Flavio in his room and the increasing doubt she'd felt, as they'd visited the Cold Lab and the Triple Ring, that he was worthy of Isabella's love=

=Her surprise and curiosity on learning that Flavio had been desperately putting on an act when she'd met him, concealing his true personality and feelings behind a public persona that few could love or even feel much sympathy for=

=The increasing anguish she'd felt as Wellington explained the reason why Flavio had been acting. Her hope that, just for once, there were facts that Wellington's investigation had missed or gotten wrong. And the leaden hopelessness she'd felt on received official notification of their successfully completing the quest "Learn Flavio's story" which confirmed beyond any possible doubt that tale he'd given her was true.=

Kafana had ended up sobbing. And that had been before Isabella had shared with her journeyman not only memories directly formed by Isabella during the event, but also some from Flavio's point of view, just as vivid, despite Isabella having experienced them in her dreams. Kafana herself had handed Isabella the enchanted pillow which had made those lucid sharable dreams possible, and could only guess at how painful they'd been for her friend.

=Flavio had been bent down, browsing a low shelf in one of Mage Tower's specialist libraries reserved for researchers, when it happened. The tomes were dusty because most of the mages allowed here had been in their fifties when they'd reached High Master and they didn't exercise much; Flavio, at just twenty-five, was still reasonably fit and fair of face. He'd grinned and, happily buried in his research, had reached his hand towards "A compendium of interactions between Mental and Runic magic, Vol IV".

The next thing he could remember was walking over the Bridge of Fists from Libri to Mercato. He immediately noticed that he wasn't able to control where his legs were taking him, and some quick experiments determined that neither could he speak, cast magic or voluntarily influence his body. He wasn't entirely a puppet, though; he could still think; he was still receiving everything his body sensed; and he could still mentally activate stamina-based skills like the one that allowed him to perceive mana. Maybe he was just the victim of a harmless prank which would soon end?

But why the gap in his memory? And why did it feel like he was gripping a thin piece of metal in his left hand? He rehearsed what he would do and was ready the next time his hand entered his field of view. Hairpin. Visible end has a large rounded grip. Faceted. Onyx. Twisted strands of mana; good use of torsion for compact energy storage. Pattern of runes in formation holding it stable indicate release trigger is blood? Faint link to resonant target in same direction my body is moving towards.

His hand dropped out of sight before he could get more detail, but he'd seen enough. The magic bound to the hairpin could only be a curse, and a powerful one at that. This wasn't a prank; it was an attack. Not on him, or the curse would already have been set and seated. Not on someone the villain could approach without seeming suspicious, or they would not have bothered turning Flavio into their puppet. An attack on someone that Flavio in particular could approach.

His feet turned onto a street he knew well, and he began to panic. Was he going to be forced to stab Dottore? Flavio respected his patron more than anyone except his own father, but he had to admit the old pharmacist had a knack for collecting bitter opponents. No, couldn't be, his patron was too good a mage, too cautious - he'd spot the strange magic in an instant, and had already put in place an excessive number of precautions against direct attacks. What about indirect ones? Flavio's skin turned pale and sweaty as he moved onto considering the name of the only other person in Dottore's heart. Then he began to rehearse, with a furious intensity. There was nothing else he could do. Yet.=

Kafana felt her own heart racing, as Flavio's had. And because Dottore might challenge Flavio to a duel if he realised the memory he'd just received had been given to Kafana by Isabelle rather than directly by Flavio. She knew just how possessive the shifter felt, bordering on an obsession. And that, given the slightest excuse, he tended to settle on a version of events, no matter how unlikely, that would justify keeping Flavio away from his wonderful pure daughter. But Suor Isabella was brave, even when it came to love. She'd practically ordered Kafana to take the risk.

And then she gave Kafana one more thing.

=The experience of the love she felt for Dottore. How much she treasured the Stone of the Mind Healer, that she used to protect her mind from the machinations of political priests. The expressions that erupted on Flavio's face the moment the puppeteer released the strings as she felt something cold piercing her shoulder. The look of determination that replaced them as he grabbed the stone her father had gifted her with, and used it to protect her the only way he could - by sacrificing himself in her place.

Finding a crystal castle in his mind and being offered a bracelet able to control its every door and barrier; being able to see every room, every secret, all at the same time in a single dizzying moment, from the feelings for her that filled the depths of its largest and best guarded treasure vault, all the way up to the airy heights of the one glistening tower that seemed to be trying to reach further into an unknowably abstract sky. Realising that the castle was the real Flavio, far more than his body, and seeing his full brilliant beauty for the first time; falling in love and gently placing the only gift she had that was worthy of him upon his arm - a matching bracelet.

Seeing his smile, even as he took upon himself the curse intended to be seated upon her soul and, fully exposed to her love for him, started burning up like a moth in a candle flame. Or like a jumper falling into a Yule bonfire. He didn't expect he was going to live!

NO !

With all her heart she shoved him towards safety and slammed his castle doors closed, even though separating the unity of their minds felt like being cut in half.

Abruptly being returned to her body, giving him her amethyst to protect him, and yelling at him to run, get out of her room, get away from her.

The trust she felt in her father. He was amazing. He could do anything. And he'd never ever let her down. He'd fix it all, she knew he would. The child-like hope she'd felt, even as an adult, that she clung onto for the next few minutes, while curled up on bed of her childhood bedroom, weeping her heart out, waiting for Dottore to come dry her tear and tell her everything was okay now.=