Seventh World: Soul bond

Near the Oasis

The silence around the oasis was no longer peaceful. It was heavy, suffocating, punctuated only by the soft whisper of the desert breeze. Archit's still form, now respectfully covered by a spare cloak, lay stark against the golden sand. The recent psychological assault by the guardian, forcing them to relive their deepest fears, had left them all raw and exposed. But the voice that had accompanied their awakening, revealing Archit's treachery, had shattered any remaining sense of security.

Captain Kael, his face a grim mask, slowly lowered himself to sit cross-legged near Archit, his gaze fixed on the body. "A spy," he murmured, the word tasting like ash. "One of our own. By the gods, how long was he with us?"

Suresh, still pale from his ordeal, spat onto the sand. "Can't believe it. He seemed… alright. Quiet."

Vikram, ever the pragmatist, wiped sweat from his brow. "Looks can deceive, Suresh. We've seen that too many times in the capital. But Archit? I barely knew him. He was assigned to us last-minute, wasn't he?"

Naveen, his snake-bonded senses still on high alert, his eyes darting around the oasis perimeter, chimed in, "Yeah, I remember that. Less than six months before we left. Said he was new to the Imperial Guard's desert division. Transferred from some remote outpost." He paused, a troubled look crossing his face. "Funny, though. None of us really knew him. Not truly. We were too focused on getting ready."

Arin, who had been listening intently, walked slowly towards them, the green glow of Kaia's bond a faint pulse on his arm. He knelt by Archit's body, his expression unreadable. "This doesn't change anything," he said, his young voice firm, cutting through their quiet turmoil. "Our mission is still the same. We need that cure for my brother. Vyuha needs him strong." He looked from one face to the next, meeting each man's gaze, conveying both his shock and his unyielding determination. "This… this just means we have to be smarter. Trust only those we know. But we're still together. We're still a team. Right?"

Kael met his eyes, a flicker of pride and renewed determination there. "Right, Prince Arin."

"Right!" the others echoed, their voices a unified, low rumble.

Arin stood, his gaze sweeping across the oasis. "Good. Now, we have a job. The elder said something about a special bush, with green fruit. No gemstone, just the fruit. We need to find it." He began to walk towards the edge of the oasis, his eyes scanning the rocky outcrops. "Let's start looking. Dhruv, check the highest points. Naveen, along the water's edge. Rishi, Aditya, Vikram, help Kael get us settled for the night. And stay sharp."

As Arin began his search, his eye power sharpened by Pip's constant, low hum on his shoulder, he noticed something nestled between two large, wind-sculpted boulders. A small, crude wooden cabin, barely more than a shack, built into the rock face. It looked old, weathered, but surprisingly intact. A temporary shelter for travelers, perhaps. A grim thought crossed his mind: Could this be connected to the man the elder mentioned? The one who sought a cure for his daughter?

"Naveen," Arin called, motioning towards the cabin. "Come with me. Let's see what's inside. Others, keep setting up camp, but stay alert."

Naveen nodded, his hand already on the hilt of his short sword, his snake-bond making him instinctively cautious. "Understood, Prince."

Inside the cabin, dust motes danced in the last shafts of sunlight filtering through cracks in the wooden walls. The air was stale, heavy with the scent of old fabric and something indefinable, something ancient. The cabin was sparse, with a makeshift cot, a rusty cooking pot, and a few tattered supplies scattered around. Then, in the corner, slumped against the back wall, they saw it. An old corpse. It was mummified by the dry desert air, preserved yet shrunken, its features indistinct, but its clothing remained.

Naveen gasped, his breath catching in his throat. He slowly knelt, his eyes wide. "By the gods… Prince Arin… I know that dress. The color, the style. It's the same as the elder described. The man… the one who came for his daughter. He must have died here."

A profound sadness washed over Arin. He looked at the desiccated form, imagining the desperation that had driven this man so deep into the desert, only to find such a lonely end. "He didn't make it," Arin whispered, his gaze lingering on the empty, hollowed eyes of the corpse. "He died just short of his goal."

They exchanged a look. "We should bury him, Prince," Naveen said, his voice unusually soft. "For his journey. For his daughter."

Arin nodded, a lump in his throat. "Yes. We will. We honor those who dared to hope here."

As they prepared to move the body, a voice, deep and resonant, echoed not around them, but directly within their minds. This time, it was softer than the one that had revealed Archit's betrayal, almost a whisper, yet it was unmistakably the guardian of the oasis. And strangely, only Arin and Naveen heard it. The other members outside continued their tasks, oblivious.

"He did not seek a cure for sickness," the guardian's voice rumbled, its words filling Arin's mind, overriding all other thoughts. Naveen flinched, his eyes wide, indicating he heard it too. "He sought something else. A power he called 'life essence.' He believed it could grant him eternal youth, break through the limitations of levels without effort, without consequence. He sought selfish gain, not selfless healing."

Arin's breath hitched. "Life essence?" he thought, startled by the revelation. "But the elder said..."

"The elder speaks of what is true for the pure of heart," the guardian's voice continued, a hint of ancient weariness in its tone. "But there are many whispers in the desert, young Prince. Many twisted desires. This man... he believed he could cheat the natural order. His death was his own doing. Not of my hand, but of his corrupted intent. The desert consumes those who seek to violate its balance, just as it protects those who truly respect it."

The voice faded, leaving Arin and Naveen standing in the musty silence of the cabin, the heavy truth hanging between them. The implications were chilling. Not only was the desert testing them, it was actively judging their intentions. The cure was for the selfless, not the greedy.

Pip's Help

They buried the nameless traveler on a small rise overlooking the oasis, marking his grave with a cairn of stones. It was a somber task, made heavier by the guardian's revelation. Arin, lost in thought, was reflecting on the new layer of danger they'd uncovered when he noticed a light absence.

"Pip?" he muttered, instinctively reaching for his shoulder. His pure white, golden-lined companion was gone. "Pip! Where is he?!"

A wave of panic rippled through him. Pip was small, vulnerable, and absolutely crucial to their success with his eye power. "Everyone! Pip is missing!" Arin's voice, usually calm, held a rare note of urgency. "Search! He couldn't have gone far!"

The team immediately fanned out, their voices calling the rat's name, their flashlights sweeping the darkening landscape. Arin, however, felt a different kind of sensation. It was a subtle, yet powerful hum, originating not from his immediate surroundings, but from a short distance away. It was Pip's soul bond, but it felt… different. Stronger. More vibrant.

He focused, reaching out with his mental connection to Pip. The sensation drew him towards one side of the oasis, towards a cluster of surprisingly tall, ancient-looking trees that grew where the rocks met the water. And there, perched precariously on a high branch, was a small, brilliant white shape.

"Pip!" Arin exclaimed, running towards the tree. As he got closer, he sensed the incredible change. The hum from Pip was now a distinct thrumming, vibrating with a new kind of energy. Pip, usually a blur of nervous energy, was strangely still, his tiny eyes closed, a faint, golden aura pulsating around his small body.

"He's... he's leveled up," Arin breathed, awe in his voice. He could feel it, the surge of power through their soul bond. Pip, a level 3 magical beast, had transcended. He had undoubtedly snuck away after the mental trial, perhaps drawn by some unique energy from the oasis itself, and consumed something potent, something "delicious" as the guardian's voice might put it. The intense, almost trance-like sleep Arin had felt was Pip undergoing his transformation.

The little rat stirred, his eyes slowly opening. They seemed even brighter now, gleaming with a new kind of intelligence. He let out a tiny squeak, then scampered down the tree, landing perfectly on Arin's outstretched arm and scrambling up to his usual perch on his shoulder.

"You leveled up, little one," Arin whispered, stroking Pip's head. "What did you eat?"

Pip nudged his ear, then vibrated with a surge of information directly into Arin's mind – a chaotic, yet clear image of a tiny, glittering insect that seemed to be made of pure light, which he had devoured near a glowing root.

Arin smiled. Sometimes, when magical beasts or even humans with strong bonds reached new levels, they could awaken latent abilities. The chance of gaining new abilities increased significantly with a higher category of soul bond, and Pip, as a royal beast, had always been of the highest tier.

And then he felt it. A profound expansion of Pip's already incredible senses. "My search area..." Arin murmured, focusing. "It's huge now. I can feel it. A five-meter radius around Pip, like a constant spiritual scan." He closed his eyes, concentrating. "And... I can see what Pip is seeing within that distance. Not just in my mind, but like a real overlay. It's like having another pair of eyes, seeing the spiritual stuff."

This was incredible. This was a game-changer. The desert, once a vast, featureless expanse, now offered itself to Pip's enhanced senses.

"Alright, little friend," Arin said, a newfound hope blossoming in his chest. "Let's find those green fruits."

Pip, back on Arin's shoulder, immediately began his work. His head swiveled, his nose twitched, his tiny ears rotating like miniature radar dishes. Arin, using his newly enhanced shared vision, saw the world through Pip's eyes: faint, shimmering auras around hidden life, subtle disturbances in the spiritual flow of the sand. Pip's spirit detection ability was now truly active, a palpable force.

Suddenly, Pip's body tensed. He pointed his tiny nose directly towards a cluster of low-lying, nondescript bushes not far from the oasis edge. Arin focused his extended vision. There it was: a faint, but distinct, spiritual signature, unlike any plant he had sensed before. This was it. A bush that could not be bonded, just as the elder had described.

Hope surged through Arin. He moved quickly towards it, the team following, anticipation mounting. They arrived at the bush, examining it eagerly. It was indeed a hardy, unyielding plant, its leaves a deep, almost emerald green. But then, Arin's heart sank. He peered closer, his enhanced vision scrutinizing every branch, every leaf.

"There are no fruits," Arin said, his voice flat with disappointment. "None. The bush is bare."

The silence that followed was heavier than any desert night. They had found the right bush, the unbondable one, but it offered no cure. The emerald fruit, the key to my brother's healing, remained elusive, a cruel mirage in this oasis of false hopes.