Sometimes, Iseis reflected as she looked at the person in front of her who had literally shown up out of nothing, it didn't pay to change your habits.

She'd only ever prayed sporadically, in the past. Partly, that was because she'd always lived in an uneasy truce with the concept of priesthood in general — somewhere between being a cleric or not, or perhaps being a priest but not like those priests. She had hardly been leading prayer services for the community. And she knew that her patron was rarely in the mood to answer prayers, and on the rare occasions she desired something of Iseis or otherwise wanted to speak to her, Leian wouldn't wait until she was kneeling in a (generally non-existent) sacred space practicing devotionals.

Ever since the recent unrest, and especially since the start of the war, she'd been trying to pray more regularly, though. Iseis found herself appreciating it more than she'd expected. It was a moment of calm in the chaos — especially since it seemed universal that it was very rude to interrupt a priest at prayer (so it also made for a good excuse).

Apparently, it also opened one up to visitations of the less than completely divine sort; there was a lesson in that, she supposed. Though putting it like that might be a little unfair to Berren.

"This is a rare and unexpected honor," she noted, straightening up and clasping her hands. "I do not recall you ever seeking me out before."

"These are strange times," the undead Aishan drawled. "And you should feel honored."

"I will endeavor to try," she said drily.

"'Endeavor to try, my lord'," he corrected her.

Iseis paused for a moment, looked him up and down. She was about to reply with a smart remark, but stopped. She did suspect he actually liked banter, but she didn't know how serious he was, and it cost nothing to give people respect.

"As you wish, my lord," she said, putting enough emphasis on the words to make her stance clear. "I assume you came here for a reason? Not just to inform me that you prefer a local style of address?"

Berren Green-Gray of Onciris smiled thinly. Despite being dead and thus incorporeal, he seemed to fill the space he inhabited, a subtle reminder that he had been a warrior and was still dangerous. But it was not danger pointed at her.

"As it happens, I've decided that those of us on the right side of the 'verse's sense of irony should stick together," he said. "And you are a lot more tolerable than the rest of the natives. Given that you know a wider 'verse exists and all. Of course, it's hardly their fault," he added at her expression. "I do agree with Alianais about progress."

Iseis couldn't help but look skeptical. "I remember a lot of protestations about her lack of character, when we first met. And about how their civilization wasn't worth the name. And the general futility of trying to aspire to civilization when your people fell."

"Sometimes people say things they don't mean when they're upset," he dismissed. "No need to hold centuries-old words against me. Remember how Leian introduced me? Regardless, we've all improved since then. Three cheers for progress. And our dear lady has finally got up to interesting things again. Fighting the good fight and all that."

Iseis gasped theatrically. Heavens, this was actually somewhat fun. "Don't tell me. You actually agree with Leian and are on her side? Who would've thought?"

"I may hate her, but at least she's not Deirianon."

Iseis studied him for a moment. She knew the relationship between the two of them was very complicated, to say the least. Mostly, she knew what Leian had let slip on occasion; she had at least mentioned him more often than Iseis had seen Berren. And she suspected he was overstating things.

They might both claim they hated each other, but even if that was true, it was a worn-out sort of hatred; something that had faded and been colored by other emotions and a very long time spent together. They had lived together for a thousand years and were both still here. Of course, she knew they had both wronged each other greatly; and she doubted they'd ever apologized for it, but they'd also been tied by the soul since then.

"Confirm something for me, if you would," she said. "Lord Berren. Since you are dead, there must be a way for you to gain energy in addition to being tied to the material world, otherwise you would not exist."

"It may have escaped your notice, priest," he drawled, "but I am still very much present. And in good health, I assure you."

"But you lack a body to anchor you, and yet you are still here and your soul has not washed away in the Great River," she pointed out.

Berren scoffed lightly. "What do you know of soul magic?"

"Very little," she admitted. "But I do understand the basic concept of a shade like you, Berren Green-Gray. Can you not just answer the question?"

He crossed his arms. "Fine. Yes, I'm bound by Leian, as you know. And yes, this bond is keeping me present. If she severed it, I might hang on for a while — the odd few decades, perhaps — but eventually, unless I found another source to sustain me, I would … move on, as they say. And there is no suitable source on this world."

Iseis nodded. She'd suspected that. It would at least partly answer the question of why he was still here and what he got out of the situation.

"Which is not to say I am staying because of a cheap shortcut to immortality," he said, placing a slight derisive emphasis on the word. "I am bound, and I wouldn't be strong enough to leave anyway, so what else am I going to do on this rock?"

"I assume it wasn't intended to work like this," Iseis noted, not engaging with the rest of his words.

"You think?" Berren shook his head. "This sort of soul-service as a penance for crimes, paid to the victor strong enough to demand it, is supposed to last a matter of decades at most. The victor is usually not a young person anyway. Normally, the head of your lineage would gently persuade you to stop if it took too long, letting the bound soul be cleansed and reincarnated - or whatever your particular religious beliefs are. It's hardly set up for deities. I am likely the longest-lived shade to ever exist, at least of this particular kind. Let's consider it my contribution to science."

"Which means you likely got far stronger than a normal shade."

The dead man smiled sharply, flashing teeth for an instant. "And you can draw obvious inferences, how nice. That will serve you well in the coming tribulations."

"I'll choose to take that as a compliment." Iseis paused, glancing around. They had already spoken for a while now, and she was getting a little anxious. She'd walked away from the soldiers of the army to be out in the fields, and was currently hidden from view, from the village they'd taken over as a base, by a small copse of trees. But it wasn't entirely deserted — it could hardly be, with so many soldiers and the Swarm Drones grazing in the fields — and they were starting to attract a bit of attention.

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"While I appreciate the compliments, may they be back-handed or not, and the assurance that you are on our side, do you have a more specific goal here? I don't suppose it would be too much to hope for a gesture of goodwill to prove your declaration."

Berren waved a hand negligently, and a veil of darkness descended over them. Or at least, a faint gray shimmer that she could tell made it very hard for anyone to see them. It also seemed to swallow all sounds, while still leaving enough gaps, cleverly positioned, that she could somewhat look out and see their surroundings. Iseis focused on the magic Berren had used, sensing the way the mana spread through the air and analyzing its patterns. It was a clever, elegant bit of magic; and both obvious and simple enough that she felt she could pick it up without any additional explanations.

"Originally, I was just going to leave you with the means to call out to me for help," Berren said. "But now, I'm thinking I might give you a short lesson on soul magic instead."

Iseis paused. She'd learned only a little soul magic, mostly picking up bits and pieces from Leian on occasion. It wasn't like she'd used it much. There was generally little call for it on this world, evidently. And it was dangerous for someone half-trained, so Leian had discouraged her from practicing it, anyway.

"That would be appreciated," she finally answered.

"Good. Stop me if you know this already. Generally, the first thing you need to be able to do more than dabble is actually see people's souls. That is not easy, as it is not something you can see with your physical eyes, and it is separate from regular mana and the skills needed to perceive it. Especially to start, it requires meditation, reaching an altered state of consciousness."

"I'm aware," she interrupted. "There are other ways of gaining this capacity, at least temporarily, like certain spells."

"True; spells, and even certain drugs and concoctions to facilitate it exist, generally by pushing you into such an altered state," Berren nodded. "They are usually temporary and often come with drawbacks. I personally consider them crutches best discarded as soon as possible. You should attempt perceiving souls without being deep in meditation or drugged as soon as possible, once you know what it is like. The best first step in that endeavor is to use your own magic instead of having a spell cast on you. Being able to do it consistently is the necessary foundation for further skills. Have you reached this threshold yet?"

"No, my lord," she admitted. "I've managed it before, but mostly on accident. I'm unsure how to improve."

"That's fine." He smiled. Surprisingly, Berren was much more amenable as a teacher. "Luckily, you have a great opportunity. Watch my mana and analyze what I'm doing; I'll make it obvious for you."

Naturally, Iseis watched closely. It took her a moment to make sense of the streams of mana he wove into an intricate net between them. It was like an illusion, except it wasn't, because she could sense the mana clearly and it was evidently still flowing like a spell. She wasn't familiar with this method of showing spellwork, though it was very intuitive to see. It had to require precise control from him, but, clearly, that wasn't an issue. And it was even functional; parts of the web-weave reached out to his eyes, or whatever passed for them for a shade.

For several long minutes, she lost herself in studying the mana. The magic was both breathtakingly complicated compared to a simple beginner's spell, and yet very clear. Iseis also studied its connection to him, which was unlike what she'd seen before, but that only made sense. Finally, she carefully started trying to mimic what she sensed.

"Good, I think you're getting it." Berren clapped his hands together. There was no sound. "Now, look closely. You have a golden opportunity to practice here, as I said. Since my soul is not hidden by a body, it is much easier to see. You should be able to do it."

Iseis frowned slightly. She traced the pattern of mana, which he had clearly stopped maintaining in favor of letting it dissolve, and followed its connection to him. Berren appeared as a physical entity in the sense that he was visible and caused physical sensations in an observer, but that was clearly a mere joke played on the physical world. There was certainly something causing the effect and tricking her eyes, just not the figure she saw. And following his mana, while trying to perform the spell he'd shown her, made it obvious.

Berren's soul was … asymmetrical, in a word. She wasn't seeing it with her eyes, at least not truly, so any impression Iseis received wasn't truly accurate, it was simply how her mind interpreted it. The closest analogue would be a white inset against the black background of the world, or a swirl of colorful oil paint dropped onto a clear pond by a careless artist. He was still Berren, in a recognizable sense. His soul was made out of layers, but they were neither static nor separate, instead constantly shifting and moving while largely remaining the same; that much, she recognized from her previous attempts at soul magic. There was a chain, or a bond, or a tether — something winding around its outer layers and through a gap, wedged into the outer edge of the 'core' of the soul (there was really no such thing, just levels of closer or deeper layers); and it felt like Leian, which she recognized right away.

"Do you see me? Describe it."

Iseis tried. She struggled to put what she sensed into words. Global didn't seem to have good words for it, but she did her best.

Berren nodded thoughtfully. Iseis was starting to gather how the slight flashes at the very outermost layer of his soul corresponded to emotions or sensations; it was a bit like a cut-rate psychic ability, she supposed. "Oil paint on water? I haven't heard it described like that before, but it's evocative. Now try again. Tell me something interesting about myself."

He seemed to recede, his presence getting paler, as he veiled himself. But Iseis felt she had figured out the trick of it now, and it was easy to keep his soul in her metaphorical sight. "You are feeling something positive, are you not?" she asked.

Berren shrugged casually. "Your progress is tolerable and doesn't make me despair at the prospect of being considered your teacher. Alright, now look at yourself."

Iseis didn't hesitate. She had tried this before, to no avail. But this was different. She focused on her magic, controlling her mana as precisely as possible, to achieve what he's showed her, and then … she looked at herself. Not literally, of course; that would have been rather difficult. But her less physical senses weren't so constrained by biology, and she perceived her own soul after spending only a little time trying.

It was similar to Berren's, but obviously not as unmoored. It was much harder to see any details because of that. Her soul was firmly anchored to her body, and to what she could vaguely sense as her mind. It was likely more of a conceptual abstraction from her body and soul. Still, the basic structure was perceivable, and Iseis could sense there were no tethers similar to what Berren had. Her being a Champion of a goddess was not reflected in her soul. At least not directly — there was a part of an outer shell that felt like Leian, but it was essentially an imitation, dedicated primarily to her status and the part of her identity tied to it, rather than explicitly to her goddess' influence. That was a thing of her body, which carried some of her patron's mana.

Iseis blinked, closing her eyes for a moment to recenter herself, and looked at Berren. She smiled widely. "I suppose old dogs can learn new tricks."

"Hardly. If you are old, I must be ancient."

"You are," she said, deadpan.

Berren looked unimpressed, but she had the impression that he was slightly amused, too.

"Regardless, this should be enough," he said. "I will not keep you any longer. Thus is any debt I might owe you erased. If you need more, it will be a favor from me. Remember from whom you learned this, and try not to misuse it too badly."

"Favor?" Iseis shook her head. "I don't think I know what you mean. And does that mean this was our only lesson?"

"You don't remember what I'm talking about, do you?" Berren smirked. "Oh, who cares. I might give you further lessons if you do well."

Then he left without waiting for a response. This time, she actually managed to track him for a moment, before he disappeared completely; presumably to the Mirrored Halls.

The gray shell she'd barely noticed anymore dissolved, and Iseis turned to leave. She was still wondering what he'd meant. Had she done him some favor she had forgotten? And how did he think she would need to use this skill?

Right outside the shell, several people were waiting for her. They looked anxious, which made her curse the time she'd taken here. The magic had muddled her sense of time a little, but at least it couldn't have been more than an hour or two, could it?

"Lady Iseis." The one she was most familiar with, Captain Unher, bowed shallowly. "We apologize for disturbing you, but you are urgently needed."

Iseis steadied herself. "How so, Captain?"

"We received a message from the capital. The Western Confederation pulled a trick at a diplomatic meeting. It may be Princess Janis' life at stake."

Iseis stared at him in surprise for a moment, her thoughts abruptly refocused. The princess was hurt? "I'll leave right away. Tell me everything you know."

She'd always liked Janis. If only she hadn't been out of communication with the empress here in Esemen. Hopefully, she would be able to help now.

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