That night, Rudy was more talkative than usual. It was only after an hour of laying in bed that the guy finally drifted off, his soft snores filling the room.

Michael smiled wryly. His friend was clearly still reeling from the news he heard today.

Between finding out Michael had almost died, to the news those responsible for his family's death was in custody—his emotions had been pulled from pillar to post.

Of course, Michael's day had been far more painful than his friend's. Yet he still found himself consoling the guy—causing him to let out a small chuckle.

As he lay in bed staring at the ceiling, he remembered the dream he'd had while unconscious. His mother's words, her warm embrace—they had felt so real.

"Trust your soul... Let it guide you."

Michael frowned, not knowing the meaning of the words. His soul was not its own entity—it was part of him.

What did she even mean by that? He thought, exhaling with some frustration.

However, he shook his head in the next moment, questioning his sanity. Why was he treating the dream as something real? His mother was dead, there was no way that she could visit him in such a place.

Feeling a little silly, Michael turned over, pulling the blanket up to his shoulder and trying to get comfortable. He tried to dismiss the dream, choosing to be realistic—despite how much his heart yearned for it to be true.

His fingers moved to his storage ring, running over its smooth surface as his thoughts wandered. It turned out that one of the scrolls was an ancient spell—something that was clearly as valuable as it was powerful.

Which probably meant that the other two scrolls were something similar.

So the pills… he thought, swallowing down his saliva.

By this logic, the pills within the pill bottles were also likely valuable. Remembering what had happened when he'd undone the stopper, he felt a sense of trepidation.

His soul had opened the barrier of his inner palace on its own—its yearning for the pills inside palpable.

Wait… Is that what she meant!? Michael sat up from his position, his heart thumping in his chest.

"Trust my soul… Let it guide me." he muttered, feeling his body shiver slightly.

The vague words suddenly began to have meaning. The context that he had been missing seemed to present itself at once—but it was too hard to believe.

For him to trust this theory, he needed to believe that his mother indeed visited him in his dreams. It wasn't that he didn't want to believe—to hope that she was still watching over him—but he was too afraid to do so.

If he accepted this and later found out that it was not true, he would be crushed.

Michael began to twist the ring on his finger distractedly, his mind wracked with indecision. Should he trust the dream that he had while unconscious? Was it worth taking such a risk on something that he could not prove?

He was only thirteen years old and had just properly begun his journey as a mage. What if the pills were too much for his soul? What if it was destroyed in the process? All because he clung onto the deluded visions of his subconscious.

The weight of indecision crushed him—making it hard to breathe.

He felt alone, vulnerable.

If only there was someone he could discuss this with—someone who could give him advice, or at least comfort him. Sure there was Melody and Rudy, but Michael had essentially isolated himself from them.

They did not know his entire circumstances. Not about the pills, not the remaining ancient scrolls sitting in his storage ring and certainly not his real identity.

This was the burden he had to carry alone thanks to his decision to keep such secrets. He had been telling himself all along that it was for his safety—but as he clutched onto his blanket in the dead of night, crushed under such pressure—he realized that he was just scared.

Scared of opening up, being truly vulnerable.

Rudy and Melody had already become important people in his life, so why could he not trust them fully? Why did he feel the need to hide who he truly was?

The negative emotions coalesced, hanging over him like a guillotine—ready to drop at a moment's notice. Michael's chest rose and fell, his breath quickening.

Something didn't feel right.

A sharp pain assaulted his mind cutting through the fog. Michael clutched his head, letting out a muffled groan—the sound of rhythmic banging shaking his mind.

BANG

BANG

BANG

The barrier to his inner palace shook violently, bringing with it waves of pain. Michael paled, his thoughts moving to Velmara city and the strange entity that had tried to force its way inside.

No! Not here!

He didn't have time to think, he needed to save Rudy and Melody. They were both asleep—vulnerable against such attacks.

But before he could even move to go wake his friend up, the doors to his inner palace slammed open, resulting in another wave of pain.

Michael quickly used his minds-eye looking inward in hopes of discovering the intruder. He planned to fight off the entity—using whatever means necessary to keep his soul from being snatched.

However, what he saw caused him to pause, his brain struggling to catch up.

There were no intruders inside his inner palace. In fact, a shining figure sat in the middle in the lotus pose. It looked exactly like Michael, yet it seemed to be made out of pure energy.

It's just my soul? Michael thought with confusion.

The shining figure had its eyes closed, as if deep in meditation. Yet in the next moment, those eyes opened, casting a bright light that almost blinded him.

For a moment, Michael and his soul stared at each other.

No words were exchanged, but Michael felt as if something was being conveyed to him through other means. A deep yearning for something—something that had been denied before.

There was a feeling of urgency, difficult to put into words. But Michael understood almost instinctively.

The pills…

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