"I still don't understand what that means," I said to Ted, gesturing at the impossible architecture in my soul courtyard. The golden light made even my confusion look philosophical. "Mastering Valor? It's sitting on top of that mountain. That's got to count for something."

  I pointed toward the massive circle of blue symbols hovering over the mountain that made up my soul. The thing pulsed with its own rhythm—a cosmic heartbeat strong enough that I could feel it in my bones. The symbols shifted and rotated in patterns that made my eyes water when I looked at them too long, cramming more meaning into each shape than my brain wanted to handle.

  "Look, kid." Ted materialized beside me, flask already in hand. "That's what it says. Everywhere I look in here matches up with what they're saying out there. You need a shitload of mana in your body, and you gotta figure out how to use Valor. That thing you did with the snake monster? That's something Valor can do."

  He took a swig and gestured around the courtyard with the casual authority of someone who'd been giving pep talks since before I was born. "You gotta figure out what the Seal can actually do besides sitting there all menacing, and then you gotta make it listen to you."

  Oh.

  Everything clicked into place. That satisfying snap when understanding finally hits and the world makes sense for about half a second.

  Up to now, magic had been mostly passive for me. An aura that helped protect my friends, and enough physical enhancement to make me feel superhuman. I was a Paladin in the most basic sense—tank the damage, heal the party, look good while doing it.

  But what else could a Paladin actually do?

  I started pacing the courtyard, footsteps echoing off stone that felt more real than reality itself. "I've been able to use spirit-aspected mana to protect against most physically manifested magic. The acid breath and energy attacks from the Varglids had trouble getting through it."

  My mind raced. "Light mana works great for destroying monsters with Winchester but I haven't figured out how to use it otherwise. Life-aspected mana works as pure healing energy, even if it costs me stupid amounts of power every time."

  Ted nodded, his weathered face creasing into something that might have been encouragement. "Now you're getting somewhere."

  "And the refined mana." I stopped pacing, feeling a familiar electric tingle. "That thing that let me do the real paladin shit—lay on hands and cleanse evil or whatever you want to call it."

  The memory of healing Erik—or maybe even reviving him—felt different from magic. Raw, overwhelming power that made everything else seem watered down.

  "Could I call down radiant fire? Or just become light?" The questions tumbled out. "Where are the boundaries of divine magic?"

  It had to be divine magic. That's what it felt when the power moved through me—not borrowed or learned, but mine. Something I'd always known but forgotten.

  I wasn't going to say it out loud, but when refined mana hit Valor and ignited into a mana burn, I felt invincible for that split second. Not strong or tough—genuinely untouchable. An immovable object.

  "Some sort of divine protection?" I caught myself. "It can't be infallible though."

  I looked to Dawn, who was smiling at me from her perch on the railing overlooking the infinite ocean. She sat with the casual grace of someone literally born from pure light, golden hair catching illumination from nowhere.

  "Okay, so if runes are concepts that my soul understands, and magic can be anything..." I returned Dawn's smile, some tension easing from my shoulders. "We've established that. So physically I need to find my mana limits, and spiritually I need to figure out Valor's limits?"

  "Bingo." Ted's voice carried the Boston satisfaction of a teacher whose student finally got it. "And maybe even Dawn's."

  I thought about all the Paladin stories I'd read growing up and felt my stomach sink. The legendary heroes who stood against impossible odds, who wielded divine power naturally, who could reshape reality through righteous will.

  "There's no way I'm getting that done in three weeks."

  Ted laughed—gravel in a cement mixer. "Well, it ain't like you sleep anymore. So you've got twice as much time as anyone else."

  True, and somehow deeply unsettling. Being an Eidolon meant this was my sleep now. I kind of missed dreaming.

  Dawn put a fingertip to her pursed lips, expression shifting to something mischievous. Then she had an idea, pointing upward at the fractal sun above with dramatic flair.

  The sun shifted blue.

  A wave of force exploded outward from it, washing over everything and dyeing the world in brilliant azure light. Overwhelming pressure surrounded me—the air gone solid and pressing against every inch of my body.

  But it wasn't crushing. It was supporting.

  Thousands of concepts exploded outward from the transformed sun in a ripple that sent my mind reeling. They hit with the force of a cannonball made of pure meaning, each one carving itself into my consciousness:

  The weight of courage measured not in grams, but in how many spirits it can raise.

  The distance between standing alone and standing first, where every step forward multiplies into footsteps of those who discover their own courage in your wake.

  The exact angle at which a raised spear catches the collective breath of those who dare to believe impossible odds don't matter.

  This was it. What a Paladin actually was, complete with all the spells and abilities I'd expected. Most were Valor's, but some were Dawn's—Light made manifest into radiant flames and divine healing.

  But a Paladin wasn't a holy warrior with fancy armor and a healing touch. A Paladin was when one person's courage became contagious—individual defiance transformed into collective hope. Standing for what's right and giving everyone else permission to be brave.

  The concepts burned themselves into my soul with the intensity of falling stars, each one a piece of something larger and more beautiful than I'd imagined.

  Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

  And suddenly it was gone.

  The sun shifted back to golden, and I stood there staring at Dawn with my mouth hanging open. The overwhelming pressure faded, leaving behind an ache—the ghost of something profound.

  "Your soul knows what it is to be Paladin," she said simply, then went back to staring at the sky.

  I still recognized the concepts floating in my memory, but they were abstract now. Water cupped in hands. Though it didn't matter. The seed was planted.

  I didn't need to master Valor; I needed to be Valor.

  I stood by my original judgement of being completely fucked.

  Stepping back into my soul-space jolted me awake with that familiar snap of reality shifting. I sighed as Valor settled over me—a warm blanket washing away most of the worry from my revelation. Maybe I should've been concerned about how easily the feeling pushed aside anxiety, but after making a building explode with my shoulder, I was inclined to trust whatever kept me functional.

  Needing to clear my head, I sat up. Red was immediately alert, ears perked.

  Walkies? The word came through our bond with eager anticipation that vibrated through my chest.

  I had to stifle a laugh. I'd used that term exactly once, and Red latched onto it. He loved the concept of going out and walking with me. Though by 'walking,' I meant he'd sprint off for thirty minutes and return with a mana orb from some hapless monster, proud as hell.

  "You're such a dog," I whispered, scratching under the blue rope we'd fashioned as a makeshift collar. The rough texture was familiar against my fingers, and he took my words as the highest compliment.

  We didn't bother keeping quiet—Katie had literally slept through an entire attack on Sylvarus while tucked away in a safe zone. The girl could sleep through anything.

  I manifested my clothes from my soul-space, savoring the familiar sensation as fabric settled across my shoulders. The feeling never got old—dressed by invisible hands in a heartbeat.

  Stepping into the common area, I found only two lantern orbs glowing from bowls flanking the sitting area, soft amber light barely pushing back darkness. I grabbed one—you could never have too many—and Red and I headed for the well-lit hallway.

  The contrast hit hard. I blinked, eyes watering as they struggled to adjust. Even Red seemed thrown by the sudden brightness, ears flattening momentarily.

  The door clicked shut behind me. My aura warned me of Dara's approach. I turned toward her as she materialized from nothing.

  "Why is it so bright out here?" I asked.

  She blinked, tilting her head. "There's no point in dimming the lights until the tower locks down at midnight. Many are still studying or training."

  I looked down at Red, whose tail wagged so hard his entire back end swayed. Pure joy radiated through our bond.

  "Did you show up to join us on our walk?" I scratched behind Red's ears, and he practically vibrated with the need to explore.

  Dara smiled, moving to Red's other side. "Lead the way."

  The irony of her basically being the tower and asking me to lead wasn't lost on me, but I picked a direction and started walking.

  Almost immediately, my stomach flipped in that nauseating way I associated with Dara or Gary moving me around the tower. The sterile hallway dissolved, and suddenly we were walking on a marble path through a garden of flowers. The air smelled rich and loamy, tinged with floral sweetness.

  "This feels better for Red," Dara said, her smile genuine.

  Overwhelming, frantic doggy happiness crashed through my bond with him. Red bolted off through the flowers. After a moment, without using my aura to track him, all I could see was his red tail popping up whenever he stopped to investigate something interesting.

  I stretched as I continued walking up the pathway, acting casual. "Were you waiting for me to wake up?"

  "We need to talk about what you called me." Dara's voice went quiet, her face more serious than I'd seen.

  "Greedy?" I asked. Her expression shifted to sharp annoyance.

  "I can throw you out again. It's a very long trip from here. But no—dragon."

  I shrugged. "Gary and I had a chat. Face to face."

  Dara's posture stiffened, gaze sweeping across the field with sudden intensity. "Red too?"

  "Yeah. Though he didn't seem surprised at what he saw. And now I'm finding out he's a Beast King? That strikes me as more than a Beast Lord like Lagniappe."

  Dara's smile returned, softer. "His is not a story I know much about. But if you hadn't figured it out by now, he's ancient."

  "He sure doesn't act like it." I thought back to everything—how he got excited about walkies, his fascination with fresh smells, how he'd vibrated with joy over belly rubs and fetch. Sure, he was technically a seven-tailed fox-dog that could breathe liquid plasma, but he was still a dog.

  "Did Red tell you that word somehow? Or perhaps Ted?" Dara's voice carried almost hopeful notes.

  "Nope, that was all me. Dragons have got to be the most popular magical creature in Earth stories."

  Dara sighed, the sound heavy with something I couldn't identify.

  "That word has been forgotten and twisted in the Multiverse, Ben Crawford. It is best not to use it."

  "Are you like Gary?" I asked.

  Dara hesitated, steps faltering slightly on the marble path.

  "No." She fidgeted nervously, fingers picking at her shirt hem. "You met my child Gu Li—my physical form was once similar. Gary is old enough to have known the Arcadians. My kind were not. We were much younger when..."

  "Were?" The word hung in the air as realization crawled up my spine. My heart sank. "Dragons don't exist in the physical world anymore, do they?"

  Dara shook her head, expression distant. "This is all we have to interact with mortals now. We were always more spiritual than physical anyway." Her voice carried the weight of something ancient and lost. "For some, like Gar'yulong, serving as anchor to the Monster Hunter tower is an honor. The younger of our kind see it as penance for transgressions long forgotten."

  The sadness in her tone made my chest tight.

  "And where do you fall on that spectrum?"

  "Somewhere in between." She paused, gaze drifting toward where Red's tail still bobbed among distant flowers. "Though after Gu Li's loss, I find myself feeling punished for a crime I never committed. Whatever this Hollowflame is, it must be stopped. And I'm thankful to have your help. For your help in putting my son to rest."

  I winced at the mention of Gu Li's death. Dara showed little grief in her day-to-day activities, but she was letting her guard down now.

  "We found a Hollowflame-corrupted monster near some secret entrance to Gary's tower too. But we destroyed it," I said, the memory of that rotten feeling making my skin crawl. "It's even on La-Roc now, but it felt more like ashes or a fire left to smolder."

  "It's spreading?" Dara's eyes widened with alarm. Then suddenly, she spun to face me and bowed slightly. "I'm glad you were there to stop it. And I need to apologize for my behavior during the attack. I was... am scared to have something so destructive so close and undetected."

  I shook my head, raising a hand. "Dara, you were clearly grieving. And knowing what you are now? That was terrifying as hell. But I don't blame you. I had the same thoughts. I'm trying to fight this along with everyone else."

  Dara took a deep breath, shoulders relaxing for the first time. "Thank you. I think I need to speak with Gary. But in the meantime, I may have been overzealous with protecting the recipe books, which was a mistake. Please forgive me—I'll grant you access as well. And once things settle down, I think I have a small project you might help me with."

  I whistled low, genuinely glad to be making headway with her. "Thanks, Dara! I'd say that makes up for scaring the shit out of me a month ago."

  Her smile bloomed genuine and warm. The garden dissolved, and suddenly we were standing in the familiar tower halls again. The marble felt solid under my feet, real in a way the garden hadn't quite managed.

  Red came cantering over, claws clicking against the floor. Slight disappointment drifted through our bond—apparently he hadn't been ready to leave.

  "Well then, if we're even..." Dara said, her expression shifting into something decidedly more mischievous. "Perhaps I can shift karma a bit."

  The lights began dimming with mechanical precision. A cascade of heavy thunks echoed through the halls as locks engaged throughout the tower. The sound rolled past us—dominoes falling.

  Suddenly, Dara was gone.

  Every door around me had sealed shut with audible clicks. The hallway plunged into an uncomfortable darkness that pressed against my eyes.

  Midnight.

  "Oh, come on, Dara! Sunrise is nine hours away—what am I supposed to do?"

  My aura blared through my mind, screaming danger as several white stone golems simply walked out of the walls and started patrolling through the halls. Their footsteps echoed with the grinding sound of stone against marble.

  "I was going to give you a gift, but if karma is balanced then you'll have to earn it," Dara's voice drifted from nowhere, tinged with amusement. "And hopefully, you'll learn not to call me greedy again."

  I stared at the approaching golems, then at Red, who looked about as thrilled with this development as I felt. The last of the light in the hall faded.

  I really needed to watch what I said around Dragons. There was no winning with them.