My hand slid down to the middle ring.
“Heart-Bonded. Profound romantic interests that go beyond your usual dating relationships. Somemightsharefeelings together, or dreams. These would be your soulmates, or the one person you’d fight a pack of wolves off for. Their happiness is your happiness.”
Then I pointed to the smallest circle at the center.
“Spirit-Bound,” I said quietly, letting the name hang in the air. “Rare—so rare it’s considered myth. Some say it’s one soul, split in two. Others say the Fates tie it so tightly, no force could ever undo it. But no one knows the full effects. It’s said to go beyond emotion. Beyond dreams.”
I angled my head to look back at the students.
“But whatever the case, if you feel like someone’s living rent-free inside you, haunting your soul—best to get it checked out. Preferably before they start to rearrange your mental furniture.” I tapped the side of my head.
Soft laughter waved across the room. I easily picked out that warm, inviting voice again. I forced my eyes not to slide to the back row.
“Now,” I said, spinning back to the wall. “To compare those to human love-bonds…” I wrote one word beneath the headingHuman Love-Bonds: NONE.
For a moment, a hush fell over the room. Then came whispering, soft ripples of curiosity and disbelief. Tilly’s eyes went wide, a mix of horror and genuine concern.
“What do you mean?” she squeaked.
I gave a small shrug. “They don’t have them like we do.”
Looking back to the board. “They have love, of course. Just as fierce, beautiful, and tragic, but notbondedlove. Not the kind that’s magically carved into your soul by fate.”
I paused, letting it weigh into their minds. “For humans, love is what they make it—a choice. Not some fated mark that’s branded on your soul the moment you’re born.”
Culture shock painted itself across the students’ features.My lips twisted as I glanced around to witness their minds collapse into quiet chaos.
“If you think that comparison was fun—let’s do another!” I grabbed the chalk, already sketching. “How about comparing hierarchies of magical powers?”
I drew a large pyramid, dividing it into three uneven layers—wide at the base, narrow at the top.
“Let’s take a look at Hallow Land’s ranks of power.” I tapped the bottom box. “Tier One: Non-Gifted, the majority of Hallow Landers. Mind you, that doesn’t mean they aren’t dangerous. Some are masters of combat, politics, manipulation, or overallmayhem.”
A few students exchanged wicked smirks.
“Tier Two.” I pointed to the middle chunk. “The Gifted. This includes Sayers and those of the Craft. Sayers—such as Soulsayers—can speak to the dead. Shadowsayers commune with shadows. Beastsayers talk to creatures.” I rubbed my chin thoughtfully. “Think of it as communication magic. They’re not controlling souls, shadows, and beasts, but asking them.Coaxingthem. Hoping they’ll cooperate. Handy tool, if the answer is yes.”
“Those of the Craft are very similar to Luckland’s nature-based Craft—such as the Aos Sí.” Several Si studentswhoopedwith pride. “But Hallow Land Craft is older. Heavier. Far darker.”
I moved to the top of the pyramid.
“Tier Three: The Rare. Wielders and the Soothseers. And when I say rare, I meanlegendary. There are no known living Wielders—except one.”
I clenched the chalk so tight I thought it might crumble.
“The Skell King.”
Deafening silence. Rumors had been stirring around theland, all with his name in them. All the students listened intently, even Cosmo leaned forward.
“Wielders don’t ask forces. Theycommandthem. A Soul Wielder could raise the dead, playing puppeteer with spirits. A Shadow Wielder could manifest darkness, not just call it. A Beast Wielder could summon and lead a creature army, if they wished.”
I paused. “All extremely dangerous. And we’re lucky they’ve nearly died out . . .”
My fists clenched at the thought of the Skell King and I released a shallow breath.
“As for Soothseers, they didn’t just see the future. They could see across time, space, possibility. If Sayers were communicators and Wielders weapons, the Soothseers were prophecy given bodies.”
The silence settled, the weight of the truth thickening in the air. Faces contorted in horror, fascination, or both.
