As usual the System's words were mocking and unhelpful. As if this was just another minor inconvenience.
I couldn't help but scream at the System's audacity in my mind. But my scream was soon drowned out by a wave of unfiltered emotion that was definitely not mine.
Bone-deep terror. That's what hit me first.
A suffocating fear of being out of control and it wasn't just a fleeting feeling. It was like I was vividly reliving Kaelen's shadow form lashing out.
The painful struggle to pull himself back and that terrifying realization that he was losing the fight.
I felt the shame, the self-loathing and the crushing despair of a monstrous power he couldn't contain or stop.
His deepest and darkest fear was playing on an endless loop in my mind.
The Chain-Golem and his father's commanding voice surged through me, multiplied by his own terror.
I almost convulsed, my whole body was shaking uncontrollably. I started sweating on my forehead.
I was gasping for air but I still felt like I was drowning. My scars flared with cold a unfamiliar fear, not my familiar heat.
At the same time, Kaelen was choking. He spasmed, stiffening under me. A wave of my own emotions, doubled by the Soul Resonance, crashed over him.
[Kaelen's Internal Monologue]
He was still reeling from the tackle and the insult to his princely dignity, when the wave hit him hard.
It was an unbearable weight of Guilt.
So much crushing guilt. It tasted like ash and bitter herbs. He felt the heart wrenching shame of failing to save a burning village, the silent screams of innocent lives lost.
He felt the heavy burden of responsibility. He felt… unlovable.
That deep-seated, painful belief that caring for anyone only led to their destruction. That his very existence brought ruin.
His stomach churned in a raw, burning sensation.
His aristocratic nose picked up the scent of my pain. It was a a nauseous smell that made him want to vomit.
Her guilt was like a real desperate thing, clinging to him and demanding to be acknowledged.
It was overwhelmingly spicy. Infact too spicy. He wanted to push it away, to escape it, but it was inside him.
[Zahara's POV]
I just collapsed, crying. not just from my own distress, but from the unbearable weight of his monstrous fear.
It was loud. So loud.
"Stop fearing so loud!" I choked out, pushing him away to create some distance.
"It's too much! I am suffocating… I can't even breathe!"
Meanwhile Kaelen was choking a strangled groan that ended in a retch.
He suddenly pushed me off him scrambling away and clutching his stomach.
He dry-heaved, bile rising in his throat. His face, already pale from lack of sleep, was now a sickly green. His eyes, though back to their normal gray, were wide and bloodshot, reflecting pure misery.
"Your guilt is spicy," he gasped, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand in disgust.
"It's… it's overwhelming! Like trying to swallow a dragon made of self-loathing!"
"Oh, boo hoo, the prince can't handle a little emotional depth!" I snapped back, my own voice tight from the pain of his fear.
My whole body was shaking. "Maybe if you weren't so busy suppressing everything, it wouldn't hit you like a runaway train!"
"And maybe if you weren't so busy trying to carry the weight of the whole world on your shoulders, your guilt wouldn't taste like burnt ash and despair!" he retorted, glaring at me, still clutching his stomach.
We were both miserable. Physically and emotionally drained.
The bounty hunter, tangled in his own club on the floor, wisely kept his mouth shut.
Just then, Lyra's head popped up from the door. Her hair slightly damp and her face with an unholy smirk.
She looked at us taking in our disheveled state. Kaelen's dirty face and my trembling body, suddenly a happy grin spread across her face.
"Oh, my! Looks like Soul Resonance is a blast, isn't it?" she chirped, very much unaffected by our situation.
She held up a small, shimmering vial. "I knew I kept these for a reason! Calming draughts! Or, for emergencies like this, an 'emotional reset button.' They taste like boiled socks, but they work wonders!"
She didn't wait for an answer, uncorking one and practically forcing it into Kaelen's hands.
He gagged but drank it, squeezing his face even more. She then brought out another vial, pushing it into my hand.
"Go on, Z. Your aura's a mess."
I drank the bitter liquid, my stomach rumbling in protest. It tasted like damp earth and old things.
But slowly the clashing emotional noise in my head began to recede. The sharp edges of Kaelen's fear, my own guilt… they dulled.
The were turning into distant echoes and no more screaming realities.
"Alright, alright, that's enough drama for one night," Lyra announced, clapping her hands together, checking out the scene with a critical eye.
"Clearly, your little Bond is experiencing some… growing pains. I suggest a truce. A temporary one. For the sake of everyone's sanity. And my very sensitive nerves."
Kaelen was still pale but still managed to glare at her. "A truce?"
"Yes, a truce!" Lyra insisted, stepping between us, her arms outstretched like a determined mediator.
"You two are currently a walking, talking emotional dumpster fire. If you don't find a way to coexist, this Bond will either kill you both, or the System will come up with even worse penalties. Like, I don't know, making you sing opera duets." She shuddered.
"No one wants that."
I eyed Kaelen. He still looked very repulsed by the idea of compromise, but his stomach seemed to have settled.
The System, in its infinite wisdom, had truly found our breaking points.
Mutual anguish. Emotional torture.
"Okay," I conceded, my voice tight.
"A truce. For now. No intentional emotional warfare. No trying to weaponize your feelings, Kaelen."
He nodded grudgingly, his gaze still fixed on me.
"Agreed. No deliberately… broadcasting emotional distress. And no trying to use my fears against me, Chainbreaker."
Lyra clapped her hands, a bright, satisfied sound. "Excellent! Now, to seal the deal… a hug! A System-approved hug for conflict resolution!"
She spread her arms wide, clearly expecting us to hug each other.
"Absolutely not," Kaelen and I said in unison, our voices flat, disgusted.
Lyra sighed dramatically. "Fine. Then I'll have to resort to my emergency measure." She pulled out a roll of heavy-duty, magically reinforced duct tape from a pouch on her belt.
It shimmered lightly.
"Either you hug it out now, or I'll duct-tape you together. Your choice. And my duct tape is very strong. It has binding runes. You'll be stuck for days."
Kaelen and I exchanged a long, horrified look. The duct tape, surprisingly, looked more terrifying than the Chain-Golem.
"Temporary truce," I muttered, pinching the bridge of my nose.
"Agreed. But no hugging. And no duct tape."
"Agreed," Kaelen ground out, his face a mask of profound suffering.
Lyra pouted, then shrugged, putting away the duct tape.
"Fine. You two are no fun. But I'm still deducting your mutual aversion from your overall Bond score. Now, about that pesky System. It just sent me a new notification. Apparently, it likes to outsource its quests."
Her comms device, still on my tunic, flared with a new message, pushing past any lingering mental static.
[New Quest: "Complete Joint Quest with Rivals Veyon/Sari."]
[Objective: Steal Temple supply crates.]
[Reward: "Trust Exercises" (LOL).]
I stared at the glowing text, then at Kaelen, then back at the text. "Are you kidding me? We have to work with them? The smug prince and his deadpan sidekick? The ones who just used magical attack dogs on us?"
Kaelen's jaw tightened. He looked even more disgusted than he had been about sharing a bed.
"Steal Temple supply crates? This is beneath me. And 'Trust Exercises (LOL)'? The System has a deranged sense of humor."
Before we could even finish our mutual outrage, a sudden, familiar shimmer appeared in the dim inn room.
Two figures materialized as if from thin air, landing with their usual flair.
Veyon, still impeccably dressed and radiating smug confidence, tossed a perfectly folded Temple guard uniform at Kaelen.
Sari, equally smug tossed another, slightly too large, at me. They were both wearing identical, pristine Temple guard uniforms.
"Suit up, losers!" Veyon chirped, a wide, utterly infuriating smile on his face.
"You're late for the party. And the Temple has a very strict 'no tardiness' policy for its new recruits."