Tale of Four

Tristan couldn’t believe the words he had just heard and stared at Serevus, the phoenix, unbothered by his stunned gaze. "I hope that day never comes, but if it should, I will be happy to know that I shall never become like you." Tristan’s eyes hardened, staring at Elias. "So consumed by a creature who cares for nothing but itself, with a grandiose opinion of themself, believing that everything they do is good and right." Tristan turned back to Serveus. "Tell me. What if you’re wrong and he fails? After all, he is a kinslayer. Cursed to have a horrid fate."

Serevus’ flames snapped and grew, burning brighter. His gaze was intense as he stared into Tristan’s eyes. "Then we will have failed. He shall return to the ground, and I shall return to the immaterial, waiting to return and try again." Tristan nodded and sighed.

"I wish you good fortune, Your Highness." Tristan looked at Serevus a final time, knowing Elias would need it. Elias coldly stared, holding his arm out. Serevus jumped atop it and perched himself atop his shoulder.

The grand double doors closed behind him, and Tristan lowered his head. Even if he wouldn’t admit it to the Phoenix, he knew it had a point in some regard. He was scared, scared of what constant merging would do. There was always learning swordsmanship, but Tristan brushed it off. He wasn’t talented with it. He knew that well enough. Grabbing his chin, he stared blankly at the ground.

"Annabell." Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes. "I know you told me of ways to get used to learning forbidden knowledge, but are there things I can do to get stronger?" Tristan paused, trying to think of other ways to get power that didn’t include the merging. His mind instantly went to one group, "What about Arcane power or soemthing like that?"

Although the Magi could, many didn’t use their power in violent ways; they were scholars after all, and arcane power was the way they studied. Despite that, Tristan thought of the places beyond the sea, and what he knew. The Old Kingdom before it fell was known to have sorcerers as their main weapon. A little research and it was clear they were people who wielded the Arcane.

Then he thought south and the stories of the Eternal Dynasty. If it was true, they could summon their Gods to the real world via the Arcane to fight for them. It was what was claimed to have kept the dynasty alive for thousands of years by this point.

"For most people, Tristan, it’s simple. Some are born lucky, and others are not. Some are born with an immense amount of arcane power, but do not have the mind that makes them capable of using it. Whereas some are blessed with a mind that others do not have, yet lack the arcane power to make it worthwhile." Annabell slowly replied.

"Then what about me?"

"Even if that phoenix is awful, he was right about one thing. You are not normal, but a Comsaton. Your blood, via me, connects to the immaterial. It is where we rest whenever unsummoned. Where in the immaterial I can’t say, at risk of you, but we do. Very few Magi figure out they can connect to the immaterial and grow that power within them, afterall it is something that makes no sense unless done." Tristan quickly understood what Annabel was getting at, "Every Cosmaton who has a summon, even if born without Arcane power, can potentially become a Magi, simply by merging."

"So we must merge anyway," Tristan said in a low voice.

"You saw earlier with Mabel and her wolf." Her tone went sombre, remembering Mabel being dragged away. "Summons are connected to the summoner not by blood but by their soul. Your blood is simply the way we connect to the mortal world and can take a physical form. It is why, when her wolf was cut, she felt the pain despite receiving no wound."

Tristan nodded but narrowed his eyes. "So if I got hurt, what about you?"

"It depends. Knowledge you learn can’t hurt me unless I don’t know it as well. After all, what is there to attack? But if you were really badly hurt, it would hurt me." Annabell thought for a moment. "As for physical attacks, it depends. If I was stabbed, it would really hurt you, but a cut would likely be fine." Tristan nodded and quickly redirected the conversation back to the original point.

"But if we are connected by the soul, why must we merge to grow arcane power?"

"You understand that to merge, you must surrender certain amounts of control to me." Tristan nodded. "As well, we become one when we do it, not two people in one body." Rolling his eyes, he nodded again, already having felt it before. "Well, when you do that, because we become one, your body becomes a sort of parasite to the immaterial. When we merge, think of the immaterial as a leaking bucket that holds an ocean, and underneath it is a cup, which is your body. Every time you merge, you collect just a little bit of the power within the immaterial. To it, it is nothing, but for you it is noticeable."

Annabell fell silent and flew off after Tristan. Flying ahead, she landed atop a painting of a woman with golden hair, looking ahead with a stern look, holding herself elegantly. "This is also a reason why each merge changes the summoner."

"What do you mean?" Tristan looked at Annabell as she held herself in shame.

"Becuase we become one, it means we leave a piece of ourselves in you. As you know, it is hardly anything for each individual merging. But that isn’t the only reason. The human body can only hold so much. For some people, it is vastly more than others, but everyone has a limit. This limit can be broken in numerous ways, but in most cases the outcome is bad, because it was done the wrong way. Now the other main reason we leave a part of ourselves inside the soul when we become one is to increase the amount of power your vessel can hold."

"So it’s protection?" Tristan’s voice was full of confusion.

"Yes and no. Yes, it helps protect the body from gaining too much arcane power it can’t withstand, but no, becuase even if this didn’t happen, what we are would still influence you. After all, we merge at the level of the soul, Tristan."

"I always wondered?" Tristan met her eyes. "You make it sound like it always affects the summoner and not the summon. If our souls merge, surely you must be affected as well."

Tristan could tell Annabell smiled. The dove looked up into the sky and didn’t move for a second before shaking her head and talking, "It can happen, but likely never would. We are aspects of the first King Tristan. Let’s use me for an example. Unless you are more pure than me as a person, or you are so evil that it can shake me, then there is nothing to influence." Her gaze sweetened. "There is also the case of if the summoner’s will is too strong. If they so vehemently refuse to change, they can stop it, but the problem is, should they continue to merge and reject the summons’ influence, they risk overloading their body with power from the immaterial as their soul rejects the power that helps increase the strength of the vessel."

"I see. So it is possible but likely impossible." Annabell nodded. Leaning against the wall opposite Annabell, Trisan fell and slumped to the ground, leaning his head back and staring up. "So to grow arcane power, I must merge. Is there nothing, Annabell? No way you know that doesn’t mean we have to do that?"

Annabell desperately thought. After a while, she nodded. "You were born with Arcane power, not a lot, but you were." Annabell finally spoke, "I never really paid attention to it before because you always had me, and there was hardly a reason to learn about it. Learn from the Magi. See if you have the mind for the Arcane. If you do, learn ways to connect to the immaterial and harness its power. It should be easy for you, compared to normal people. After all, you have already connected to it numerous times via me."

"If I don’t?"

"Then there is no point. If you are inept, it will be like scaling a mountain to do basic things. I don’t want to be mean and make you sad, Tristan, but there really is no point if you don’t have the mind for it." Annabell flapped her wings and carried on with a lively tone, "But you’re smart, so I bet you do."

Hearing her childish voice blurt the words out, he couldn’t help but laugh. He wasn’t even sombre about potentially failing, yet any worry he may have had was now completely gone. "We can always find another path if we must," Tristan said and stood up. Annabell flew off the painting, landing atop his head.

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