[One Week Later][Location: Royal Academy Grand Dining Hall][Time: Breakfast]
Sol had developed a routine.
Arrive early, claim a seat at the far end of the scholarship students' table, eat quickly while reading, leave before the hall became too crowded. It minimized interactions, avoided Marcus's attention, and gave him plausible deniability for being "socially awkward" rather than deliberately isolated.
This morning followed the same pattern. He'd claimed his usual spot, pulled out his book—the beginner's rune primer for appearances, though he'd memorized it days ago—and was mechanically eating porridge while his mind worked through the contract theory Professor Aldwin had explained yesterday.
The hall was half-full. The usual morning chaos of children chattering, utensils clattering, and servants moving between tables with fresh bread and fruit. Background noise Sol had learned to filter out.
So when a voice cut through the ambient sound like a blade through silk, Sol's attention snapped up immediately.
"YOU!"
The entire dining hall went quiet.
Sol looked up from his book to find a boy standing on a chair three tables away, one arm extended dramatically, pointing directly at him. Gold hair caught the morning light streaming through the tall windows. Red eyes—not brown, not amber, but genuinely red like rubies—fixed on Sol with unnerving intensity.
[Instant Analysis: Unknown Subject][Age: Approximately 5 years old][Level: 14][Physical Appearance: Gold hair, red eyes, noble clothing][Posture: Dramatic, theatrical, completely unselfconscious][Emotional State: Determined, curious, genuinely confused]
But it was what Sol saw beneath the surface that made him stop breathing for a moment.
[Status Window - ANOMALOUS DATA][Name: Godfrey (presumed)][Age: 5 years][Level: 14][Class: ???][Divine Graces Detected: 49]
Forty-nine.
Sol had encountered Divine Graces before—rare blessings granted by gods or divine entities to chosen individuals. A single Grace was extraordinary. Three or four marked someone as genuinely holy. Ten was the stuff of legends—saints and prophets who reshaped history.
Forty-nine was impossible.
Sol's analytical mind immediately began cataloging what he could sense:
[Divine Grace of Walking] - Can walk on any surface, including air, water, fire, concept [Divine Grace of Temperate Spirit] - Immune to environmental extremes, perfect internal balance [Divine Grace of Divine Champion] - Enhanced physical/magical capabilities when defending others [Divine Grace of Divine Sight] - Can perceive truth, divine energy, hidden blessings [Divine Grace of Untouchable Faith] - Divine protection against corruption/curses [Divine Grace of Pure Intent] - Actions aligned with genuine purpose carry divine weight [Additional Graces: 43 more detected but unreadable at current distance]
What in the name of all the gods is this child?
"Why do you sit alone?" the gold-haired boy called out, his voice carrying across the silent hall with perfect clarity. "Every day you sit at the edge, you eat by yourself, you read your book and pretend nobody exists. Why?"
Every single person in the dining hall was staring now. Sol could feel hundreds of eyes on him—children, servants, a few teachers who'd been supervising breakfast.
Marcus was at his usual table, looking between Sol and the strange boy with barely concealed delight at the public spectacle.
"I..." Sol started, his mind racing for an appropriate response. "I'm reading."
"You can read with people!" The boy hopped down from his chair and began walking toward Sol's table. Not walking—gliding. His feet touched the ground, but occasionally didn't, his body supported by something invisible whenever his stride would have made him stumble.
He's using Grace of Walking without even thinking about it, Sol realized. It's so natural to him that he doesn't notice. Like breathing.
The boy reached Sol's table and climbed onto the bench across from him without asking permission. Up close, those red eyes were even more unnerving—not malevolent, but intensely focused, like looking into concentrated purpose.
"I'm Godfrey," the boy announced. "I've been watching you for a week. You're interesting."
"I'm Sol," Sol said carefully, very aware that the entire dining hall was still silent, still watching.
"I know who you are!" Godfrey said cheerfully. "You're Father's newest bastard. The one from the orphanage. Everyone talks about you." He tilted his head. "That makes us cousins, I guess. I'm also Father's son, but Mother is Lady Celestine, so I'm legitimate." He said it without any malice or superiority—just stating facts. "Do you like being alone, or are you alone because nobody talks to you?"
The question was so direct, so genuinely curious, that Sol found himself answering honestly without meaning to. "Both."
"Hmm." Godfrey pulled Sol's bowl of porridge over and took a spoonful, completely uninvited. "This is cold. Why are you eating cold porridge?"
"Because I've been sitting here for twenty minutes reading."
"But why not ask for fresh porridge? Or eat faster? Or—" Godfrey's eyes widened suddenly. "Oh! You're here early on purpose. You're hiding."
This child is far too perceptive.
"I'm not hiding," Sol said. "I just prefer quiet."
"Liar." Godfrey said it without accusation, just observation. "My Divine Sight shows me when people aren't being completely true. You're not exactly lying, but you're not telling the whole truth either." He leaned forward conspiratorially. "That's okay. I don't tell whole truths either. Sometimes the whole truth is too big for people to handle."
Sol stared at this bizarre five-year-old who spoke like a philosopher while eating stolen porridge.
Around them, the dining hall slowly returned to its normal noise level as people realized the spectacle was over. Conversations resumed. Attention shifted away.
But Marcus was still watching, his expression calculating.
"Your eyes are weird," Godfrey observed, studying Sol's face with unnerving intensity. "One sees things that are, one sees things that could be. But they're both looking backwards at the same time. Like you're remembering something that hasn't happened yet." He paused. "That doesn't make sense. But it's what I see."
He can see my Prescient Recognition skill, Sol realized with growing alarm. Divine Sight is reading my fundamental nature through my eyes. What else can he see?
"You're also really old," Godfrey continued casually, finishing Sol's porridge. "Not your body—your body is four. But inside you're old. Ancient old. Like Professor Aldwin but even more. How are you so old?"
Sol's heart actually skipped a beat. In 847 years, only a handful of people had been able to perceive his true nature this easily. And this child was doing it while eating breakfast.
"I don't know what you mean," Sol said carefully.
"Yes you do." Godfrey grinned—a surprisingly childlike expression despite everything else. "But that's okay. Everyone has secrets. I have secrets too!"
"Like what?" Sol asked, deciding to redirect.
"Like how I can walk on air! Watch!" Godfrey stood up on the bench, then simply stepped off—into empty space. He walked three steps on nothing, then turned and walked back to the bench. "Nobody else can do this. Well, powerful mages can with spells, but I don't need spells. I just walk."
Several nearby students had noticed and were staring. Godfrey waved at them cheerfully.
"You should probably not demonstrate that publicly," Sol said quietly.
"Why not? It's what I can do. I have forty-nine Divine Graces." He said it like someone might say they had forty-nine coins—mildly impressive but not really understanding the magnitude. "Mother says I'm blessed by the gods. That I'm meant for something important."
"The gods don't typically grant forty-nine blessings," Sol said carefully. "That's... unprecedented."
"I know! Isn't it exciting?" Godfrey bounced slightly on the bench. "Mother says I might be a Chosen One. But I don't want to be a Chosen One—those always die tragically in the stories. I want to be a Seraphight!"
"A Seraphight," Sol repeated. The Glowing Protectors of Alexandria—an elite order of holy warriors who defended the kingdom from divine threats. He'd met a few in his previous life. Powerful, devoted, and genuinely heroic. "That's... ambitious."
"It's not ambitious if it's your destiny," Godfrey said seriously, all childish cheer suddenly gone. His red eyes locked onto Sol's with frightening intensity. "I'm going to save the world one day, Sol. I know it. I can feel it. Everything I am, everything I've been given—it's building toward something important."
And in that moment, Sol saw it. The absolute conviction. The bone-deep certainty. This wasn't a child's fantasy or delusional grandeur. This was genuine prophetic understanding radiating from every one of those forty-nine Divine Graces.
Godfrey believed he would save the world because he knew he would save the world.
Is this kid really just a kid? Sol wondered. I'm 847 years old in a child's body, but this feels different. This feels like someone who's been... prepared. Crafted for a purpose.
"You're staring," Godfrey observed, returning to his cheerful demeanor. "People stare at me a lot. It's the red eyes, I think. Or the gold hair. Or the way I sometimes float without meaning to." He glanced down and realized he was indeed hovering half an inch above the bench. "Oops."
He settled back down with a little thump.
"Do you have friends?" Sol asked, genuinely curious.
Godfrey's expression fell slightly. "Not really. People think I'm weird. They're not wrong—I am weird. But it's hard to be friends with people who are scared of you or who treat you like you're made of glass because you're 'blessed by the gods.'" He looked at Sol hopefully. "That's why I wanted to talk to you. You're weird too! But different weird. Interesting weird."
"I'm not weird," Sol protested.
"You're reading theoretical magic texts in the library that are way above your age level, you have the eyes of someone who's seen centuries, and you somehow convinced Professor Aldwin to take you as a private student after only three months at the Academy." Godfrey ticked off points on his fingers. "That's weird. Good weird, but weird."
How does he know about Aldwin?
"Divine Sight," Godfrey explained, as if reading Sol's thoughts. "I can see significant connections between people. You have a golden thread connecting to Professor Aldwin that looks like learning-and-trust. It's pretty."
Sol was rapidly recalculating everything he thought he knew about Divine Graces. He'd studied them academically, had even contracted with blessed individuals before, but he'd never encountered someone so thoroughly saturated with divine power that they could perceive the metaphysical structure of relationships.
"Can you see other connections?" Sol asked carefully.
"Some!" Godfrey looked around the dining hall, his eyes moving from person to person. "Marcus has threads to lots of people—mostly red ones that look like control and fear. Kieran has a weak blue thread to Marcus that looks like obligation-and-suffering. Lyra has a green thread to you that looks like concern-and-curiosity." He focused back on Sol. "You have threads too, but they're strange. Most of them go far away, to places I can't see. Thirteen really strong golden threads that disappear beyond my sight range. And one weird purple thread that goes... down? Through the ground? That's odd."
The contracts with the Thirteen, Sol realized. He can see them. Even though they're suspended, even though we're separated by miles, he can perceive the fundamental bindings.
And the purple thread going down? That was probably his connection to the Manor itself—or what remained of it.
"You're analyzing me," Godfrey observed. "Your eyes are doing that thing where they calculate everything. It's okay—I'm used to being analyzed. Priests do it all the time. They try to figure out what the gods want with me."
"What do you think the gods want with you?" Sol asked.
Godfrey was quiet for a moment—the first true pause since he'd started talking. When he spoke, his voice was softer, more serious than any five-year-old should be capable of.
"I think they're preparing me for something terrible. Something that's going to try to destroy everything good in the world. And I'm supposed to stop it." He looked at Sol with those unsettling red eyes. "Does that sound crazy?"
"No," Sol said honestly. "It sounds like prophecy."
"Mother says I shouldn't talk about it. Says people will expect too much from me, or try to use me, or make me into something I'm not. But I had to tell someone. And you..." Godfrey smiled slightly. "You're safe to tell. Because you have your own secrets, your own destiny. You won't try to use mine."
This child is terrifying, Sol thought. Not dangerous—I don't sense malice—but terrifying in the way truly pure purpose is terrifying. He's a weapon the gods are forging. And he's still so young he doesn't even understand what he's becoming.
"We should be friends," Godfrey announced suddenly, all seriousness vanishing. "I decided. You're my friend now."
"You can't just declare someone your friend," Sol said.
"I just did!" Godfrey hopped off the bench. "Friends eat breakfast together, so tomorrow you sit at my table. Not this lonely edge table. My table has better light and Cook always gives us extra pastries." He started walking away, then paused. "Oh, and you should probably be careful of Marcus. He's planning something involving you. His red control-threads got really active when I started talking to you. I think he doesn't like other people paying attention to his targets."
Then Godfrey walked off—literally walked off, his feet leaving the ground halfway through his stride as he sort of glided-floated toward the exit.
Sol sat in stunned silence, his porridge gone, his book forgotten, his mind reeling.
[Analysis: Godfrey][Threat Level: Zero (genuinely benevolent)][Complication Level: MAXIMUM][Divine Graces: 49 confirmed, each one potentially world-altering][Perception: Can see through Sol's disguise completely][Purpose: Genuine hero-in-training, prophetically certain of future importance][Social Status: Another of King's children, therefore Sol's "cousin"][Immediate Problem: Has now publicly connected himself to Sol]
Marcus was going to be furious. Sol had spent weeks being careful not to attract attention, not to make alliances, not to give Marcus additional ammunition. And now this divine-blessed, impossibly-perceptive five-year-old had loudly announced friendship in front of the entire Academy.
But looking at where Godfrey had walked off—where a faint golden afterglow still shimmered in the air from his Grace of Divine Champion activating unconsciously—Sol couldn't quite bring himself to regret it.
In 847 years, he'd met countless heroes, champions, chosen ones, and prophesied saviors. Most were frauds or fools. Some were genuine but weak. A rare few were truly extraordinary.
Godfrey felt like the rarest category of all: someone who didn't just have destiny, but understood it. Accepted it. Was walking toward it with eyes wide open despite being only five years old.
Is this kid really just a kid? Sol wondered again.
And the answer, he realized, was both yes and no. Godfrey was genuinely five—his enthusiasm, his social cluelessness, his innocent certainty about declaring friendship. But he was also something more. Something the gods themselves had touched and transformed from birth.
Sol was 847 years old in a four-year-old body.
Godfrey was five years old with 49 Divine Graces and a destiny that terrified him even as he walked toward it.
They were both children pretending to be children while being something else entirely.
I guess he's my cousin, Sol thought, finally processing that detail. Another of Father's children. Another bastard? Or legitimate like he claimed?
It didn't really matter. What mattered was that Sol had just acquired the most dangerous possible ally: someone who could see through every lie, who attracted divine attention like lightning rods attract storms, and who had just publicly tied himself to Sol's reputation.
Marcus was definitely going to make this a problem.
[Later That Day][Location: Royal Academy Gardens][Time: After Final Classes]
Sol found Godfrey sitting in a tree.
Not climbing—sitting. He'd walked up the trunk and was now perched on a branch twenty feet above the ground, his legs dangling in open air, humming quietly to himself.
"Godfrey," Sol called up. "We need to talk."
"Then come up here!" Godfrey called down. "The view is better!"
"I can't walk on air."
"Have you tried?"
Sol sighed. "Yes. It doesn't work when you don't have Divine Graces."
"Oh. Right." Godfrey hopped off the branch—literally just stepped into empty space—and walked down to ground level as if descending invisible stairs. "Sorry. I forget not everyone can do this. Mother says I need to be more aware of my blessings." He reached the ground and grinned. "So! What do we need to talk about?"
"The breakfast scene," Sol said carefully. "You made us the center of attention."
"Was that bad?" Godfrey looked genuinely confused. "You were alone. I wanted to talk to you. So I talked to you."
"You pointed at me in front of the entire dining hall and demanded to know why I sit alone."
"Yes. And you told me! Both because you like being alone and because nobody talks to you. Which means we're friends now and people will talk to you. Problem solved!" Godfrey seemed very pleased with his logic.
Sol rubbed his temples. "It's more complicated than that."
"Why do people always say things are complicated?" Godfrey asked, sitting down in the grass and patting the ground next to him. "Things are usually pretty simple. You were alone and unhappy about part of it. I'm alone and unhappy about all of it. Now we're alone together, which is better."
There was a certain undeniable logic to it. Sol sat down next to him.
"Can you really see my... connections?" Sol asked. "The threads you mentioned?"
"Yes! They're beautiful. Most people have two or three really strong threads. You have thirteen that go far away, one that goes down, and now a new one—kind of silver-blue—that connects to me!" Godfrey seemed delighted by this. "That's the friendship thread. It's very shiny."
"And you can see that I'm... older than I appear?"
Godfrey nodded. "Your body says four years. Your soul says..." He squinted, as if looking at something far away. "I don't know the number. A lot. Centuries. It's like you're made of memories and experience all compressed into a tiny space." He tilted his head. "Did you die and come back?"
Sol froze. "What?"
"That's what it looks like. Like your soul has the mark of death on it, but you're alive anyway. That's one of my Graces—Divine Sight of True Death. I can see who's supposed to be dead. You're supposed to be dead, but you're not. So you came back somehow."
This child was going to give Sol a heart attack.
"If I tell you something," Sol said carefully, "can you keep it secret?"
"Yes!" Godfrey said immediately. "I'm very good at secrets. I have to be. If people knew all my Graces, they'd never leave me alone. I only told you about a few of them."
Sol weighed his options. Godfrey could already see through most of his disguise. The child knew Sol was ancient, reincarnated, connected to powerful distant entities, and hiding his true nature. Trying to maintain the pretense seemed pointless.
And something about Godfrey's absolute honesty made Sol want to reciprocate.
"I died," Sol admitted. "A long time ago. I was someone important. Someone powerful. And I made arrangements so that when I died, I would be reborn. Here. As Sol."
"That's amazing!" Godfrey's eyes went wide. "So you really are ancient! How old?"
"Eight hundred and forty-seven years old."
Godfrey was quiet for a moment, processing. Then: "That's so cool. Did you know magic when you were old? Can you still do it?"
"I knew a lot of magic. I can't do most of it anymore—this body is too young, my mana pool too small. But I'm relearning."
"And the thirteen threads? Those are people who belonged to you before?"
"Belonged with me," Sol corrected gently. "Not to me. They were... my family. In a way. They served me, but also I served them. It was complicated but good."
"And they're looking for you," Godfrey said with certainty. "I can see it in the threads. They're searching. Moving. Getting closer."
"Yes."
"When they find you, will you leave the Academy?"
It was the question Sol had been avoiding thinking about. "I don't know. Maybe. It depends on what happens."
Godfrey looked sad for a moment. "I hope you don't leave. I just made a friend. It would be sad if you left immediately."
Sol felt an unexpected pang of sympathy. This child—this divine-blessed, prophetically-destined five-year-old—just wanted a friend. Someone who could talk to him like a person instead of a holy vessel.
"I'll stay as long as I can," Sol said. "And when I do leave, you can come visit. If you want."
"Really?" Godfrey brightened. "Promise?"
"Promise."
"Good!" Godfrey hopped to his feet. "Now we should practice magic together! You can teach me what you know, and I can show you my Graces! It'll be like mutual learning!"
"Godfrey," Sol said carefully, "people will notice if a four-year-old and a five-year-old start demonstrating advanced magical knowledge."
"Then we'll be sneaky! I'm very good at sneaky. I have the Grace of Unnoticed Presence—when I want people not to notice me, they don't. Unless they have their own divine sight or really strong perception abilities."
Of course he does, Sol thought.
"Fine," Sol agreed. "But we practice in private. And you can't tell anyone what I teach you."
"Deal!" Godfrey stuck out his hand for a shake. When Sol took it, he felt a brief warm pulse—divine energy sealing the agreement. Not a contract in the magical sense, but a sacred promise witnessed by whatever gods watched over this bizarre child.
They spent the next hour in a secluded corner of the gardens. Sol explained basic magical theory using examples Godfrey could understand. Godfrey demonstrated his Graces—each one more impossible than the last.
Grace of Temperate Spirit let him put his hand directly into a candle flame without burning. Grace of Divine Champion made him temporarily glow with golden light when Sol pretended to be in danger. Grace of Perfect Balance meant he could stand on one finger if he wanted to. Grace of Eternal Renewal meant small injuries healed in seconds.
And more. So many more. Forty-nine Graces, each one a miracle, all stacked inside a five-year-old who treated them like interesting toys rather than world-shaking power.
"Your Grace of Divine Sight," Sol asked as the sun began to set. "Does it have limits?"
"Hmm." Godfrey thought about it. "I can't see everything. I can't read minds. I can't see the future exactly—just what people are meant to become if they follow their paths. And really powerful magic can hide things from me. Mother has protection spells that make her look blurry when I use Divine Sight on her."
"Can you see what I'm meant to become?"
Godfrey looked at Sol with those red eyes, his expression becoming distant and focused. Several long seconds passed.
"I see two paths," Godfrey said finally. "One where you become something bright and golden—rebuilding what you lost, protecting people, using your knowledge to help. The other where you become something dark and cold—alone, focused only on revenge and power, pushing everyone away."
He blinked, and his expression returned to normal. "But paths aren't destiny. You choose which one you walk. That's what Mother says—we can see where roads go, but we pick which road to take."
Sol absorbed that. Two possible futures: redemption or damnation. Friendship or isolation. Building or destroying.
"Which path do you think I'll choose?" Sol asked.
Godfrey smiled. "The bright one. Because you made friends with me, and friends keep you on bright paths. That's what friends are for!"
It was such a simple, childlike answer. And yet, coming from someone with forty-nine Divine Graces and the literal ability to see truth, it carried weight.
"Thank you, Godfrey," Sol said quietly.
"You're welcome! Now we should go—dinner's soon, and Cook makes the best roast chicken on Sixthday. You're sitting with me tonight, remember?"
They walked back toward the Academy together—Godfrey occasionally floating half an inch off the ground without noticing, Sol carefully staying terrestrial.
[New Relationship Established][Godfrey: Divine-Blessed Cousin][Friendship Bond: Active][Threat: Marcus will respond to this alliance][Opportunity: Access to someone who can perceive truth and destiny][Complication: Godfrey will make staying hidden nearly impossible][Assessment: Worth it]
As they entered the dining hall together, Sol noticed Marcus watching from his table. The crown prince's expression was calculating, cold, and very, very dangerous.
But Godfrey just waved cheerfully and walked straight to his table—literally straight, his path cutting through the air at an angle that defied gravity for three steps before returning to normal.
Sol followed, very aware that his carefully maintained low profile had just exploded spectacularly.
But looking at Godfrey's genuine smile, at the first real friend he'd made since reincarnating, Sol found he didn't entirely mind.
For 847 years, he'd learned that having powerful allies was useful.
Having genuine friends was rarer and more valuable.
Even if that friend was a five-year-old divine-blessed prophet who could walk on air and see through every secret.
Especially then.
[After Dinner][Location: Academy Rooftop - Restricted Access][Time: Dusk]
Godfrey had walked them straight through a locked door.
"That's not supposed to be possible," Sol said, watching the solid oak door that Godfrey had simply passed through as if it were made of mist.
"Grace of Walking," Godfrey explained cheerfully, holding the door open from the inside. "I can walk through barriers if I really focus. Doors, walls, wards—they're all just surfaces, and I can walk on any surface. Through any surface. Over, under, around, or inside." He paused. "That last one feels weird though. I don't do it much."
Sol stepped through the now-open door and onto the Academy's highest rooftop. The view was spectacular—the entire city of Alexandria spread out below them, the Great Library glowing with enchanted lights, the palace in the distance like a crown of marble and gold.
"Nobody comes up here," Godfrey said, closing the door behind them. "Too many stairs, and the door's always locked. Perfect for private conversations!"
"About that," Sol said, sitting down on the stone ledge. "You said you had more Graces you hadn't told me about."
"Forty-nine total!" Godfrey bounced on his heels. "But some are more important than others. Some are just... there. Like Grace of Perfect Temperature—I'm never too hot or too cold. Useful, but boring. Or Grace of Endless Breath—I can hold my breath for hours. Cool, but not relevant most of the time."
"And the relevant ones?" Sol prompted.
Godfrey's expression became serious—that unnerving shift where the five-year-old disappeared and something much older looked out through red eyes. "Grace of Shared Soul," he said quietly. "It's one of my strongest. And I think it's why the gods made sure we met."
Sol's analytical mind immediately started calculating implications. "Shared Soul. That sounds like a binding ability."
"Sort of!" Godfrey sat down next to Sol, his legs dangling over the edge. They were three stories up, but he seemed completely unconcerned with the height. "It lets me share my soul's energy with people I trust. Not permanently—just... connect our mana pools. Like two wells that feed into each other."
Sol's breath caught. "You can share mana?"
"More than that. The Grace lets me help people grow. When I connect with someone using Shared Soul, their mana pool expands faster. Much faster. Because they're not just drawing on their own growth—they're drawing on mine too. And I have..." Godfrey gestured vaguely at himself. "A lot. The gods gave me a really, really big mana pool to hold all my Graces."
[Godfrey's Mana Pool: Estimated 800+ MP][Sol's Current Pool: 67.4 MP][Potential Growth Rate with Shared Soul: SIGNIFICANT]
"How much faster?" Sol asked, his voice carefully controlled despite his racing thoughts.
"Mother says people who share my Shared Soul grace grow about three times as fast as normal. Maybe more if they practice properly." Godfrey swung his legs idly. "And once your pool reaches a certain level—maybe 200 or 300 MP—the sharing becomes bidirectional. We'd charge each other. You'd grow faster because of my bigger pool, and I'd grow faster because..." He tilted his head. "Because you're old. Your soul knows how to handle mana in ways mine doesn't. So we'd be teaching each other's souls simultaneously."
Sol stared at this five-year-old who was casually offering to solve the single biggest obstacle to Sol's recovery.
"Why?" Sol asked. "Why would you do this? Sharing soul energy—that's intimate. Dangerous. If I betrayed you, if I was secretly malevolent, I could hurt you through that connection."
"But you won't," Godfrey said with absolute certainty. "Divine Sight, remember? I can see your paths. I can see your soul. You're not malevolent—you're complicated and careful and scared of hurting people. Which means you're safe." He smiled. "And you're my friend. Friends help each other. I can help you grow stronger, so I should."
"There must be limits," Sol said. "Costs. Divine Graces always have balance built in."
"Smart!" Godfrey looked pleased. "Yes. The Grace of Shared Soul has rules. First: I can only share with people I genuinely trust and care about. Can't fake it—the Grace knows. Second: The connection works best when we're practicing magic together, meditating together, or doing synchronized mana exercises. Third: If one of us gets corrupted or cursed, it could flow through the connection to the other. We'd share dangers as well as benefits."
He pulled his knees up to his chest. "And fourth: The more people I share with, the less effective it becomes for each person. Right now I'm not sharing with anyone, so you'd get the full benefit. But if I shared with, say, five people, you'd each only get one-fifth of the growth boost."
Sol processed this information with the speed of 847 years of experience. The risks were real but manageable. The benefits were extraordinary. And Godfrey was offering this freely, without expecting anything in return except friendship.
"What do I need to do?" Sol asked.
Godfrey brightened immediately. "Just say yes! Well, and accept the connection. It works through agreement—I offer, you accept, the Grace activates. Then we just need to practice together regularly to maintain the connection. Daily would be best, but even three or four times a week would help."
He held out his hand, palm up. It began to glow with soft golden light—divine energy made visible. "I, Godfrey of Alexandria, blessed by the gods with forty-nine Graces, offer you the Grace of Shared Soul. Will you accept my friendship and trust, share in my growth as I share in yours, and let our souls walk the path to strength together?"
The formal wording suggested this was a sacred ritual, something with divine weight behind it.
Sol looked at that glowing hand. Looked at Godfrey's earnest face, his red eyes bright with hope and genuine care. This child who could see through every lie, who knew Sol was ancient and reincarnated and hiding, and who chose friendship anyway.
"I, Sol of Alexandria," Sol said carefully, "accept your Grace of Shared Soul. I accept your friendship and trust, will share in your growth as you share in mine, and will walk the path to strength together."
He placed his hand over Godfrey's.
The world shifted.
Golden light flared between their palms, then rushed up Sol's arm like warm water flowing through dry channels. It poured into his chest, found his mana pool, and instead of filling it, expanded it. Not gradually—immediately. The walls of his pool stretched, grew, multiplied in capacity.
[MP: 67.4/67.4 → 67.4/89.2][Shared Soul Connection: ESTABLISHED][Growth Rate Modifier: 3.2x normal rate][Bidirectional Charging Threshold: Will activate at 250+ MP][Connection Quality: OPTIMAL (genuine mutual trust detected)]
Sol gasped. He could feel Godfrey's presence now—not intrusively, not overwhelming, but there. A warm golden thread connecting their souls, their mana pools, their growth. When Godfrey's pool circulated energy, Sol's pool resonated. When Sol's pool refined mana, Godfrey's pool learned the technique.
"Oh wow," Godfrey breathed. "You feel... ancient. Like touching a library that's been growing for centuries. This is amazing!"
"You feel like sunlight," Sol said, still adjusting to the sensation. "Bright and warm and impossibly pure."
They sat in silence for a moment, both adjusting to the new connection.
"Your pool just grew," Godfrey observed. "It went from small to... less small. Still small compared to mine, but bigger than it was. The Grace gave you an initial boost—like welcoming you properly."
Sol could feel it. His mana pool had expanded by about thirty percent instantly. And now, with the connection active, every meditation session would be three times as effective. Every spell practice would refine his capacity faster. Every day would bring him closer to his former power.
At this rate... at this rate he could reach 200 MP in two months instead of six. Could reach 500 MP in half a year. Could actually rebuild meaningful power while still young.
"Thank you," Sol said quietly. "You have no idea what this means to me."
"I have some idea," Godfrey said. "Your soul was screaming with frustration at being so small and weak. I could see it through Divine Sight—like a giant trying to live in a doll's house. Now you'll grow faster. Be more comfortable." He grinned. "And I'll grow faster too! Your soul already taught mine three new refinement patterns. I didn't even know mana could do that!"
Sol realized Godfrey was right. The connection was already bidirectional in knowledge, even if it wouldn't be bidirectional in charging until Sol's pool grew larger. Godfrey's raw divine power was flowing into Sol's pool, helping it expand. And Sol's centuries of cultivation knowledge were flowing into Godfrey's techniques, helping him refine what he already had.
They were teaching each other's souls how to grow.
"We should practice together every morning," Sol said. "Before breakfast. An hour of meditation and mana circulation."
"And evenings!" Godfrey added. "After dinner, we come up here, practice techniques, share what we learned during the day. I can show you more of my Graces, you can teach me magical theory, and we'll both get stronger!"
It was perfect. Exactly what Sol needed. And Godfrey genuinely seemed as excited about helping Sol as about being helped.
"Marcus is going to hate this," Sol observed.
"Marcus hates everything that doesn't make him the center of attention," Godfrey said with surprising insight. "But he won't be able to do anything about it. The Grace of Shared Soul is sacred—blessed by the gods. Even the King can't order me to break it without angering divine powers. And I won't break it anyway, because you're my friend."
Sol looked out over Alexandria, feeling the new connection pulse with warmth in his chest. Twenty-four days until he could contact the Thirteen. But now, with Godfrey's help, he'd be much stronger when that reunion happened. Strong enough to actually do something useful instead of being a helpless child they had to protect.
"Your mana pool is already working more efficiently," Godfrey observed, his Divine Sight apparently showing him the changes in real-time. "You have really good control for someone so young. Oh wait—you're not young. You're ancient. That makes sense."
Sol laughed despite himself. "I keep forgetting you can see everything."
"Not everything! I can't see what you're thinking. Just what you are." Godfrey paused. "Though sometimes what people are tells me what they're thinking. You're thinking this changes everything. That you can actually plan for the future now instead of just surviving day by day."
"Am I that transparent?"
"Your soul is doing a happy dance," Godfrey said seriously. "It looks like golden sparkles. Very pretty."
They sat together on the rooftop as the sun set, two children who weren't quite children, connected now by divine Grace and genuine friendship. Below them, Alexandria glowed with evening lights. Above them, stars began to appear.
And between them, a connection pulsed with shared growth, shared trust, and shared destiny.
Whatever came next—Marcus's retaliation, the Thirteen's arrival, the complicated politics of the Academy—Sol would face it stronger than before.
Because he had a friend.
And that friend could share souls.
[Connection Status: Grace of Shared Soul - ACTIVE][Sol's Growth Rate: 3.2x normal (will increase to 5-6x once bidirectional charging activates)][Godfrey's Growth Rate: 1.8x normal (benefiting from Sol's refinement knowledge)][Time to 250 MP: Estimated 8-10 weeks with daily practice][Note: Everything just changed]
[That Night][Location: Shared Quarters][Time: Lights Out]
"So," Marcus said into the darkness. "The divine boy chose you."
Sol didn't pretend to be asleep. Marcus knew he was awake—they all knew.
"He chose to be friendly," Sol said carefully. "I didn't ask for it."
"No, you never ask for anything, do you?" Marcus's voice was soft, dangerous. "You just exist, and interesting things happen around you. The professors notice you. The divine-blessed children seek you out. You're so humble, so unassuming, so obviously not trying to stand out."
Silence for a beat.
"And yet here you are, standing out."
"Marcus—" Kieran started from his bed.
"Quiet," Marcus said, and Kieran went quiet. "I'm just observing. Sol attracts attention without trying. First Professor Aldwin's private tutoring. Now Godfrey's public friendship. It's fascinating how someone so young, so supposedly insignificant, manages to collect allies."
Sol said nothing. There was no good response.
"Godfrey is blessed by the gods," Marcus continued. "Forty-nine Divine Graces. The priests say he might be a Chosen One. And he looked at the entire Academy and chose you for friendship. Why do you think that is?"
"I don't know," Sol said honestly.
"I think," Marcus said slowly, "he sees something in you that others don't. Something that scares me. Because Godfrey doesn't make mistakes about people. His Divine Sight shows him truth. So if he thinks you're special..."
The unspoken threat hung in the air: Then you are special, and I need to do something about that.
Lyra shifted in her bed. "Can we sleep? Some of us have early combat practice."
Marcus laughed softly. "Yes. Sleep. We all need sleep. Tomorrow is another day for Sol to not try to stand out while standing out anyway."
Sol listened as Marcus rolled over, his breathing eventually slowing to sleep patterns.
But Sol didn't sleep for a long time.
He'd made a friend. A genuine, honest, divine-blessed friend who saw through everything and liked what he saw anyway. A friend who'd shared his very soul to help Sol grow stronger.
And in doing so, Sol had gained something he'd almost given up hoping for: a real path to recovery. The Grace of Shared Soul pulsed warmly in his chest—a constant reminder that he wasn't alone, wasn't trapped at 67 MP forever, wasn't helpless.
Three times normal growth rate. That changed everything.
In two months, he could have 250 MP—enough for basic contracts, enough for the connection to become bidirectional, enough to actually contribute when the Thirteen arrived instead of being dead weight.
In six months, he could have 500 MP—enough for moderate magic, enough to defend himself, enough to start rebuilding what he'd lost.
And in a year? In a year, with Godfrey's help, he might have 800-1000 MP. Still nothing compared to his former 10,000, but enough to matter. Enough to be dangerous. Enough to protect what was his.
Marcus had painted a target on his back by befriending Godfrey, yes. But he'd also given Sol the means to grow strong enough to endure whatever Marcus threw at him.
Twenty-four days until the Thirteen arrived.
But now, those twenty-four days weren't just about surviving. They were about growing. Learning. Becoming strong enough that when his family found him, he'd be someone worth finding.
Sol closed his eyes and began the meditation exercises, feeling Godfrey's connection pulse in rhythm with his own mana circulation. Even sleeping, the Grace of Shared Soul worked, slowly expanding both their pools, teaching both their souls.
Thank you, Sol thought toward that golden thread. You have no idea what you've given me.
And from the other end of the connection, faint and warm and half-asleep, came a response: Yes I do. I gave you hope. That's what friends are for.
Sol smiled in the darkness.
Twenty-four days.
He could wait.
He could grow.
And when the time came, he'd be ready.
Because he had a friend who shared souls.
And together, they'd become something neither could be alone.
[End Chapter Ten]
[Status Update][Sol's New Status: Days until Thirteen contact: 24][Current MP: 67.4/89.2 (expanded by Grace of Shared Soul)][Growth Rate: 3.2x normal (will increase to 5-6x at 250+ MP)][New Ally: Godfrey - 5 years old, 49 Divine Graces, can see through all of Sol's secrets][Divine Connection: Grace of Shared Soul - ACTIVE][Threat Level: Marcus (escalating rapidly)][Complication: Public friendship with divine-blessed child will draw massive attention][Opportunity: Accelerated growth path + genuine friendship + divine protection][Note: The quiet approach has failed. But Sol now has the means to grow strong enough to matter.]