Chapter 60: A New Familiar

Chapter 60: Chapter 60: A New Familiar

The question wouldn’t leave him alone. *What happened to the real Theon’s soul?*

He stood there a while, his expression sobering as the thought turned over in his mind. If my soul had taken over this body after reincarnation, where had the original soul gone? Had it disappeared entirely? Been shoved into some corner of his own consciousness? Or was it still in here somewhere, waiting?

The longer he thought about it, the more questions piled up with no answers underneath them. Eventually he sighed and let it go. *Nah. I’ll figure that out later.* There was already too much happening around him to chase a mystery with no leads. For now he had more pressing problems, chief among them the five years that had been stripped from his lifespan.

Five years. His fist clenched at his side. *I’m definitely getting those back.*

He lifted his head and took stock of the room. Ifrith. The ancient elf. The strange, half-visible figure sealed inside the cage. Lyra. Lazaria, pale and swaying where she stood by the bed, refusing to sit down even though her legs looked like they might give out any second. And finally, Eiralyth.

The sight of her jogged something loose in his memory. Right. She’d asked to become his familiar.

He was about to say something when Ifrith spoke first.

"Master."

Theon turned. "What is it?"

Ifrith pointed toward the cage. "What should we do about them?"

Theon looked over, genuinely surprised. He’d forgotten it was even there. His brow furrowed as he studied the towering block of ice. "Actually, what magic did I even use to make this thing?"

Nobody answered right away. Even Ifrith hesitated. It was the ancient elf who finally raised a small hand, slow and reluctant.

"You used," he said, then paused for effect, "an ancient sealing technique."

"Which one."

The elf swallowed. "Grand Ice Catalyst Prison."

Theon’s eyes went wide. He stared up at the ice again, and fragments came back to him: the sword in his hand, the ruined battlefield, the clones scattered like broken toys, the elf’s fury. The memory still felt like it belonged to someone else, something he’d watched happen rather than lived through.

He called up World Archive without thinking, and the familiar rush of information filled his mind.

WORLD ARCHIVE

*Grand Ice Catalyst Prison. Ancient Magic. Primordial Level.

A sealing technique capable of imprisoning any target within the user’s effective range.

Once activated, the prison cannot be broken from within. The sealed target remains trapped until the creator releases them.*

*I actually did that?*

The elf slammed both tiny hands against the inside of the ice. "Exactly! Now you understand how impressive this magic truly is!" Then, catching himself, he softened his tone into something almost pleasant. "Which is precisely why you should release me."

"No."

The pleasant expression fell apart. "What?"

"No."

"Why not?!"

He pressed his face to the ice, indignant. "I am the headmaster of the Imperial Academy! You cannot keep me locked up like some common criminal!"

"You tried to kill me."

A beat of silence. "That was a minor misunderstanding."

Ifrith’s eyebrow twitched. "A minor misunderstanding."

"Yes."

"You used Absolute Zero."

"Also a misunderstanding."

"You nearly killed everyone in this wing."

"...A particularly severe misunderstanding."

Theon pressed two fingers to his forehead. This man was unbelievable. The elf pushed on anyway, voice climbing toward desperation.

"Please, Your Highness. Release me. I swear I will never raise a hand against you again."

Theon studied him for a long moment. "On one condition."

The elf’s eyes lit up. "Anything."

Theon pointed at Ifrith. "Ifrith turns you into a pet."

The room went dead quiet. The elf’s face drained of color as the words sank in.

"...What?"

"A pet."

"You cannot possibly be serious."

"I am."

"I am an ancient elf!"

"I know."

"A primordial existence! I have lived for *thousands of years!*"

"Congratulations."

The elf’s whole body trembled. "My dignity!"

Theon shrugged. "Actually right now your life is on the table, not your dignity."

The elf’s eyes darted from Theon to Ifrith and back again. Ifrith was already smiling, and it wasn’t a friendly one. The elf took a step backward, forgetting for a second that there was nowhere to go.

"Wait," he said.

Ifrith cracked his knuckles, unhurried. "Finally."

The elf’s ears flattened against his skull. "Wait, wait, wait!"

"Master, thank you for granting me such wonderful opportunity," Ifrith said, walking toward the cage.

"You’re welcome," Theon said, grinning now.

"NO!" The elf scrambled back, but the prison gave him nowhere to run. Ifrith raised one hand, magic already gathering in his palm in a slow, bright coil.

"WAIT! I’VE RECONSIDERED!"

"Too late," Theon said, leaning against the wall to watch.

"I DON’T AGREE ANYMORE!"

"You already agreed."

"I WAS UNDER DURESS!"

"Transformation," Ifrith said, and released it.

Light swallowed the elf whole. His robes dissolved into the glow. His long ears shrank, folded, vanished into something smaller and rounder. His whole body shrank with them, and along with it, most of his aura, that vast, ancient weight, thinned down to almost nothing.

When the light cleared, a small wolf stood inside the melting prison. Its fur was dark and soft-looking, its ears twitching, its paws far too small for the outrage building behind its eyes.

It looked down at itself. Then up at Ifrith. Then at Theon. Then down at its paws again, as if checking they were really there.

"What," it said, in a voice pitched several octaves higher than before, "have you *done* to me?"

Theon had to bite down hard to keep from laughing outright.

"WHY AM I A PUPPY?!"

"Master, the puppy seems upset," Ifrith observed.

"Hmm," Theon said, nodding slowly, entirely too pleased with himself.

The puppy’s glare could have peeled paint. "Do not call me a puppy."

"I think we should feed him," Theon said.

"Understood."

"Wait, why are you discussing my meals like I’m an actual pet?!"

Neither of them answered. The wolf kept protesting behind them, something about being headmaster, about dignity, about several centuries of accumulated authority currently being ignored by two people already walking away.

"Keep him quiet," Theon said over his shoulder.

"Yes, Master."

"I CAN STILL HEAR YOU BOTH."

Theon let the door swing shut behind him and stepped out onto the balcony.

Cool morning air hit him first, sharp enough to clear the last of the fog from his head. Then the view stopped him where he stood.

The Imperial Academy sprawled across the mountains like something built for gods rather than students. Towers climbed above the cloud line. Massive stone halls stood wedged between peaks that looked like they’d been there since before anything had a name. Early sunlight poured gold across the rooftops, and below the dormitory, clouds drifted in slow unbroken sheets, with the tips of far mountains cutting through them like blades laid flat.

Students moved through the courtyards below, ordinary and unbothered. Some carried stacks of books. Others jogged toward classes they were clearly running late for. A knot of them stood laughing about something near the fountain.

Everything looked completely normal. Too normal.

Theon rested both hands on the railing and frowned. "Wait. Didn’t something happen here?"

Ifrith stepped out beside him. "Something happened, Master?"

"The attack. The destruction. There was a hole torn straight through the academy." He gestured down at the grounds. "Why is everyone acting like none of that occurred?"

"You’ve been unconscious for three days, Master."

Theon turned to face him fully. "Three days?"

"Yes."

His mouth opened, then closed, then opened again. "Three *days.*"

"Yes."

"What happened to my classes?"

"I handled it," Ifrith Said, calm as ever.

"Handled it how?"

"I stopped anyone from entering your room."

"...Everyone?"

"Most of the instructors came looking for you at some point."

"And?"

"I turned them away."

Theon stared at him. "You turned away the *instructors.*"

"Yes."

"What did you even say to them?"

"That if they wished to see you, they would have to go through me first."

Theon looked at him for a long moment, then started laughing. "You’re out of your mind."

Ifrith smiled, entirely unbothered. "I am your servant."

Theon glanced down at the grounds again. The massive scar that had once split the academy in two was gone, the stonework seamless, as though nothing had ever happened there. "You fixed all this?"

"Not me. The academy repaired itself overnight."

"Good," Theon said, and meant it.

He turned back toward the room, his eyes settling on the cage. The half-visible figure was still inside it, still waiting. He looked to Eiralyth.

"Can you let him out?"

She hesitated, glancing first at the caged figure, then at Ifrith, who gave her a small nod. Only then did she raise her hand and dissolve the ice.

The figure didn’t waste a second. He crossed the room and caught his beloved just as her knees finally buckled, holding her upright with a gentleness that looked strange coming from someone who’d spent the last few days sealed in ice. For the first time since Theon had woken up, her face softened.

He let them have the moment without interrupting, and turned instead to Eiralyth.

"You wanted to be my familiar. Why?"

She answered without any hesitation at all. "Because that way I won’t have to be far from my Ifrith."

Before Theon could respond, a new voice cut in from behind him.

"How touching."

Ifrith spun around. "Lyra."

She smiled, all false innocence. "What? I’m only saying."

"Saying what, exactly."

"That you two are so lovey-dovey."

Ifrith’s face went red instantly. "I am not lovey," his voice dropped, "dovey."

Theon lost the fight against his own laughter. "Hahaha."

"Master."

"Sorry," Theon said, wiping his eye, not sorry in the slightest.

He turned back to Eiralyth and held out his hand. She reached hers out slowly to meet it, then Theon stopped short.

"Wait. How do I even contract a primordial demon again?"

Ifrith stared at him. "Master."

"What?"

"You forgot."

"...Maybe."

Ifrith sighed. "Just give her a name."

"Oh. Right."

He looked at her properly for the first time, at the silver white hair catching the morning light like fresh snow across a rooftop. He thought for a moment.

"Silver."

The name had barely left his mouth before the air around her changed. A silver glow wrapped around her body, lifting her off the ground. Wind gathered and spun, pulling her hair upward in slow streams as magic poured into her from somewhere Theon couldn’t see.

He stepped back instinctively. "What’s happening?"

"She’s evolving," Ifrith said.

The glow grew brighter, and the balcony itself began to tremble under it. Then, without warning, the light detonated outward in a single silent burst before vanishing entirely. Silver drifted back down to the stone floor, and Theon could feel immediately that something about her had changed, deepened, settled into something new.

Text appeared in his vision.

*Contracted Primordial Demon.

Contract Successful.

Naming Complete.

Evolution Complete.*

Then, a second notice.

*New Familiar Registered.

Name: Silver. Race: Primordial Demon.

Status: Familiar.*

Theon smiled. "Not bad."

A third notification followed right behind it.

*Pending Familiar Evolution Detected. Fenrir Alpha.*

His smile dropped. "Oh. I almost forgot about Fen."

"You did," Ifrith agreed.

"Fen," Theon called.

His shadow rippled, and the massive wolf stepped out of it, lowering his head. "Master."

"It’s time, isn’t it?"

"Yes, Master."

"What are you evolving into?"

"A Platinum Class Beast."

Theon’s eyes went wide. "Platinum Class? Are you serious right now?"

"Yes."

He took an involuntary step back. "That’s insane."

Fen only waited, calm as bedrock, while another notification unfolded in front of Theon’s eyes.

*Evolution Requirement complete.

Fenrir Alpha. Evolution Available.

Target Evolution: Celestial Fenrir.

Proceed with Evolution?*

Theon read it twice, then smiled. "Yes."

The moment the word left him, white light tore out of Fen’s body and swept across the balcony in a single gust that pulled at Theon’s coat. Below them the clouds churned. Mist coiled around Fen’s shape as his dark fur bled white from the inside out, spreading paw to tail until nothing dark remained. His aura climbed with it, pressure building until the railing itself started to hum under Theon’s palms.

Sunlight seemed to brighten on cue, pouring down in a column that swallowed Fen whole as his body lifted clear off the ground. His eyes opened, blazing with light of their own.

Then it was over. The glow dropped away all at once, and Fen descended to the stone in complete silence, fur now a brilliant, unbroken white, a faint halo turning slowly above his head.

Theon just stared. "Whoa."

"Master?"

He stepped closer, circling once. "You’re... beautiful."

Fen dipped his head. "Thank you, Master."

*Evolution Complete.

Race Updated. Fenrir Alpha → Celestrial Fenrir.*

Theon pulled up the new stat sheet immediately, and his eyebrows shot up. "Light Magic?"

"Yes, Master."

"You can use Light Magic now?"

"I can."

"Teach me," Theon said, grinning.

"Of course, Master."

One more notice slid into view.

New Familiar Skill Acquired. Shapeshifting.*

"Shapeshifting?"

"I can take a human form now, Master."

Theon blinked. "Human? That could actually come in handy."

Fen waited a beat. "But?"

"Let’s save it for later," Theon said, still smiling.

"Understood." Fen bowed his head, then dissolved into a streak of white light that folded back into Theon’s shadow and vanished.

Theon turned to Silver and nodded once, satisfied. "Good."

He looked around at all of them, the whole strange, exhausting family he’d somehow assembled. "Now we’ve got the whole..."

He stopped mid-sentence.

Something in the air had shifted. The morning breeze turned cold in a way that had nothing to do with the weather. His smile fell away on its own, and he turned his head slowly, skin prickling with the certainty that someone, somewhere, was watching him.

His eyes found the highest peak overlooking the dormitory, and far off, something caught the light and flashed once.

A figure stood at the edge of that distant ridge, utterly still, a long telescope raised to one eye. Watching. Watching *him.*

A chill ran down Theon’s spine.

"Ifrith."

Ifrith came beside him in an instant. "I felt it too, Master."

Theon’s gaze hardened as he stared across the distance at the motionless silhouette, waiting, patient, giving nothing away.

"Someone’s been watching us," he said quietly.