The side chamber she leads us to is smaller but no less impressive, walls lined with texts written in scripts that predate the current language. A crystal basin sits at its center, filled with water that glows with its own inner light. This is where Nashai perform their most important work—soul-reading, fate-weaving, the delicate magic that binds lives together or tears them apart.
"Now." Jelle settles herself beside the basin, her fingers trailing through the glowing water. "What seems to be the problem?"
Where do I even begin? The human thief who shouldn't exist? The divine magic that kept me from killing her? The growing sense that my carefully controlled life is about to shatter into pieces I can't put back together?
"Someone tried to steal from my patrons," I say finally, the simplest version of a situation that feels anything but simple. "When I moved to handle the situation, I encountered... resistance."
"What kind of resistance?" Jelle's eyes focus on the water, images beginning to form in its depths like dreams made visible.
"Divine magic. Something prevented me from drawing my blade." The admission tastes like defeat, but there's no point lying to a Nashai. They see through deception the way normal people see through glass. "I need to know what's happening."
The water in the basin swirls faster, colors bleeding through its depths as Jelle's magic probes the threads of fate surrounding us. I feel the touch of her power like ghostly fingers examining my soul, searching for connections I didn't know existed.
Beside me, the human thief tries again to pull free from my grip. This time I let her take a step away, but keep my attention locked on her position. Running would be pointless in a place like this—the temple's wards would stop her long before she reached the doors.
"Interesting." Jelle's voice carries new weight, the tone she uses when facing something genuinely unexpected. "Very interesting indeed."
The water in the basin erupts into light, images crystallizing with sharp clarity. I see myself standing in Vestige, wings spread in territorial display. The human thief moving through the crowd with predatory grace. The moment our eyes met, when something fundamental shifted in the fabric of reality itself.
And underneath it all, golden threads binding us together with the inexorable strength of divine will.
"A natural soul bond," Jelle says, her voice cutting through the magical display like a blade. "Forged by the gods themselves, not chosen by mortals. Rare enough that I've never seen one personally."
I can’t even process the words. Soul bonds are the deepest magic available to xaphan, the joining of life forces that creates something stronger than either individual could achieve alone. But they're supposed to be chosen, negotiated, entered into with ceremony and mutual consent.
Not forced upon unwilling participants by cosmic interference.
"That's impossible." The protest escapes before I can stop it. "Soul bonds require willing participants. They can't be imposed by divine magic."
"Most bonds, yes." Jelle's attention shifts between the basin and our faces, reading patterns I can't see. "But in very rare circumstances, when the gods themselves decide two souls are meant to be joined, they can forge the connection directly. It hasn't happened in over two centuries."
The human thief finally finds her voice. "What the hell are you talking about? Soul bonds? Divine magic? None of this makes any sense."
Jelle regards her with the kind of gentle patience usually reserved for children and the mentally unstable. "You're bound to him, child. Your life force is being tied to his by power beyond mortal understanding. The connection has been made, though not yet completed."
"I didn't agree to anything!" The thief's voice rises, echoing off the chamber walls. "I don't even know who he is!"
"Agreements are not always required when the gods decide to intervene." Jelle turns back to me, her expression serious. "The bond is real, Mihalis. I can see it forming in the water, golden threads weaving themselves tighter with each moment you spend in proximity. Fighting it will only cause pain for both of you."
I feel it now that she's named it—a pulling sensation in my chest, like something vital is being drawn toward the human thief despite my conscious will. The same force that kept my blade sheathed, rewritten on a more fundamental level.
"What happens if we refuse?" I ask, though part of me already knows the answer won't be pleasant.
"The bond will continue forming whether you cooperate or not." Jelle's fingers trace patterns in the glowing water, reading futures that branch like tree limbs. "But incomplete bonds cause... complications. Weakness, illness, eventually death if the connection isn't properly sealed."
The thief backs toward the chamber entrance, her face pale with dawning understanding. "You're saying I'm tied to him whether I want to be or not?"
"The gods have made that decision, yes." Jelle's tone remains infuriatingly calm. "Though you have some time before the bond must be completed. Days, perhaps weeks if you remain in close proximity."
I catch the thief's wrist as she tries to bolt for the door, my fingers closing around delicate bones that feel like they might snap if I squeeze too hard. She spins back toward me, her gray-blue eyes blazing with fury and something that might be panic.
"Let me go!"
"Not happening." The words come out rough, but the alternative—letting her run into the winter night and collapse from magical exhaustion—isn't acceptable. I don’t have the patience or time to deal with those repercussions. "You heard what she said. We're connected now, like it or not."
"I don't like it." Her voice cracks slightly on the words, the first real sign that her composure is fracturing. "I didn't ask for this. I didn't ask for any of this."
Neither did I, but saying so won't change the reality we're facing. The Nashai watches our exchange with clinical interest, like a scholar observing an experiment in progress.
