"What Determines the Spirit One Summons?" Asked the scarred boy.
Kazin picked up a small bowl of water and swirled it gently, watching the ripples dance across its surface. "Summoning is no simple thing. You do not choose the spirit—it chooses you. And why does it choose you? That, my dear children, is determined by five sacred truths."
"Innate Soul Resonance."
He tapped a finger against his chest. "Each of you has a soul, and that soul hums with a frequency unique to you alone. It is like a song only the spirits can hear. A warrior with fire in his heart will call forth a spirit of flames. A gentle healer, whose hands bring comfort, may find a water spirit answering their call. And a liar—a sly one who whispers sweet falsehoods?" He smirked knowingly. "They may find themselves bound to a shadowed trickster, one who delights in deception as much as they do."
He let the words sink in before continuing. "Do not think you can hide your true nature. The spirits see through all masks."
"Secondly, State During the Summoning Ritual."
His gaze darkened as he set the bowl of water aside. "The moment of summoning is perilous. Your emotions—your fear, your anger, your desperation—are as much a part of the ritual as the words you speak. A boy filled with fury, who seeks vengeance, will not summon a gentle spirit. No, no. He will call forth a creature of wrath, one that will burn everything in its path."
Kazin sighed, his eyes distant, as if remembering something long past. "I have seen it before. A girl who wept as she prayed to the spirits... and a sorrowful guardian came to her, one that carried the weight of her grief. And then there was a man who stood in peace, calm as still water, and he was met with a spirit of wisdom, one who sought balance above all else. Remember this, children—your spirit is a reflection of you in that very moment."
"Ancestral Bloodline & Spiritual Heritage."
He gestured toward a young boy in the front. "You, child—who was your grandfather?"
The boy straightened. "He was a warrior, Master Kazin. A great one."
Kazin nodded knowingly. "Then it is likely that a warrior's spirit will answer your call. Blood remembers. The spirits do, too. Some families have long-standing bonds with certain spirit lineages. A family of healers may find themselves forever linked to spirits of light, while the descendants of warlords may be forever shadowed by spirits of destruction."
He leaned in. "And sometimes... sometimes, an ancient pact binds a spirit to a family for generations. A debt owed, a promise kept. Some are blessed by their ancestors' choices. Others... are cursed."
"The Summoning Medium & Offering."
Kazin reached into a pouch and pulled out three items—a golden feather, a small vial of dark liquid, and a single tear-shaped crystal. "What you offer to the spirits matters. These are not just trinkets. They are keys, guiding your call to those who will listen."
He held up the feather. "A gift of the sky, and so the wind spirits come." Then the vial. "Blood, the essence of life, calls to those who have lost theirs—vengeful wraiths and restless souls." Finally, the crystal. "And a tear, shed from true sorrow, may summon a spirit of mourning, one who understands grief as deeply as you do."
He let the crowd observe the objects before setting them down. "Choose your offering wisely. A careless offering may bring forth a spirit you never intended."
"Lastly, strength of Will and Compatibility."
Kazin's voice grew grave. "Summoning a spirit does not mean binding it. Spirits have their own will, their own desires. Some will test you. Some will reject you outright. Only those with unshakable resolve—those whose souls burn with purpose—will command great spirits."
He looked over the group, his expression hard. "A weak heart will summon a weak spirit. And a weak spirit... is a death sentence. But those who stand firm, who refuse to bow, may forge pacts with beings beyond imagination."
"This is the truth of the Pact of Spirits. It is not a gift—it is a bargain. A test. A path filled with peril and sacrifice. But for those who dare to walk it... it is the key to power."
Kina and the rest of the group sat in awe, the weight of the lesson settling in their hearts. Kazin studied their faces and nodded.
"For those who would like to try to summon a spirit and form a pact with it, remain sitted."
A murmur spread through the hut as the young adults exchanged glances, some decided to stay while others rose and left.
Kina however remained seated, uncertainty laced on her face.
"What now?" Ryojin asked, his voice low. "Are you going to do it?"
"I don't know, Rio," Kina admitted, running a hand through her hair. "Part of me wants to try… but after hearing what Master Kazin said, I think I need more time."
"I think so too."
Kina chuckled softly as she stood up. "Let's go, Rio."
Ryojin picked up the boxes, and together they stepped out of the hut.
"Looks like it's going to rain," Kina observed, glancing up at the stormy clouds overhead.
"Then we better walk fast if we don't want to get soaked."
"You're right."
And just like that, they left the sanctum and began their walk back to the orphanage.
"So, what kind of spirit do you have?" Kina asked as they made their way down a narrow street, her voice light with curiosity. "Just wondering."
Ryojin hesitated before replying. "It's… a rhino spirit."
"Rhino?" She turned to look at him, eyebrows raised. "With the speed you displayed that night?"
"Rhinos are pretty fast too," he said, avoiding her gaze.
"Huh… come to think of it, you're right," she mused, turning her eyes back ahead. "So, what level are you at?"
"Initiate."
"That's a surprise. Did you form the pact recently?"
"No… it's been three years now," he replied quietly.
"Three years? Then why are you still at the initiate level?" she asked, genuine curiosity in her tone.
Before he could answer, a raindrop landed on her cheek, followed by another—and then the downpour began.
"Guess we need to find shelter," Kina said.
"Seems like it," Ryojin replied, spotting an empty store across the street. "That place should work."
"Yeah, let's hurry," Kina said, taking off toward the store. Ryojin followed close behind, jogging to keep up.
The moment they stepped inside, the rain came down harder, hammering against the roof.
Kina exhaled, brushing wet strands from her face. "Whew. That was close."
"Yeah… you're right," Ryojin said, staring out at the rain.