"What brings the pleasure?" Nema asked, looking up from his paperwork as Vel stepped through the doorway with Hileya and Celia.
The merchant's quarters hadn't changed since they'd signed their lodging contracts—same ornate desk, same leather-bound ledgers stacked neatly in the corner, same distinct smell of wood and incense.
Vel stepped forward. "I need to ask you about something."
"You didn't have to come, you know," Vel said, glancing back at Celia with a raised eyebrow.
Celia crossed her arms, leaning against the doorframe. "Then what do you expect me to do? No class, no duel, no training, and I don't want you doing anything weird to Hileya."
Celia's protective streak had only grown stronger since they'd arrived at the Academy.
"Nema," Vel said, turning his attention back to the merchant, "do you know anything about magical contracts? Especially about the ones... that the Academy uses for unattuned students."
"Oh..." Nema's expression shifted, the pleasant merchant smile giving way to something more guarded. He leaned back in his chair, fingers drumming against the polished wood of his desk.
"The Academy technically does not use it," he said carefully. "It's merely... a 'suggestion' for the unattuned should they choose that path."
Nema's eyes flicked toward Hileya for a moment before returning to Vel.
"The method... historically, was used for... slaves." His voice dropped lower. "While ethically, it's still considered taboo, the perks, however, are undeniable."
Vel felt Hileya stiffen beside him, and Celia pushed off from the doorframe, suddenly more attentive.
"Please, sit," Nema gestured to the chairs before his desk.
Vel took a seat, with Hileya and Celia following suit. The merchant pulled out a delicate teapot from beneath his desk.
"Some tea while we discuss this... sensitive matter?" He poured three cups with grace.
Vel accepted the cup, noting how Nema's usually cheerful demeanor had grown more somber. "You mentioned slaves?"
Nema nodded, his fingers tracing the rim of his own cup. "In the past, magical contracts were primarily used to bind slaves to their masters. Complete control of autonomy, prevention of harm to the master—you name it. The slaves were treated as property, passed down through generations, especially with long-lived races like Elves or Scalefolk."
"But there was something the masters didn't account for," Nema continued. "The slaves accumulated power from their masters over time. Some grew stronger than those who bound them, yet remained chained by the contracts."
He leaned forward, lowering his voice. "Until one slave—a draconic race member—discovered a loophole."
"What happened?" Vel asked.
"Word of mouth says he died. But then he was brought back."
"Brought back?"
"Rumor says it was deliberate, but no one can confirm it." Nema's fingers tapped against the desk. "You see, draconics who live long enough can transform into wyverns when they die. Think of it as a second life. He gave up his draconic form permanently and became a beast."
Vel's eyes widened slightly. "And the contract?"
"Voided. The contract bound a draconic, not a wyvern." Nema paused. "After breaking free, others followed his example. A war erupted, led by the freed slaves. They won and established their own nation in the eastern mountain range about four centuries ago. Now it's the Union of the Winged Folk."
"The kingdom agreed to their terms for peace—no more slaves in the traditional sense. They maintain an ambassador here to oversee the treaty." Nema set his cup down with a soft clink.
"However, criminals whose status is reduced to slaves through legal punishment—that practice still continues. That's why any contract now requires consent from both parties."
Vel leaned forward, keeping his voice steady despite his rising frustration. "Is it possible to alter the terms of contracts?"
Nema's eyes narrowed slightly. "To some degree, yes. The terms can be negotiated, but..." He paused, choosing his words carefully. "You cannot change the fundamental magical aspects of the binding."
The merchant's gaze shifted between Vel and Celia. "But why are you interested in such matters? Both of you have already been accepted by—" His words cut off as his attention finally settled on Hileya standing quietly behind them.
"Hm..." Understanding dawned in his eyes. "Don't tell me..."
Vel remained silent, and Hileya's hands clasped tighter around her skirts. Their lack of response spoke volumes.
"Do you know what you're doing?" Nema's voice sharpened. "As far as I know, Hileya still belongs to Lady Halen."
"Belongs?" The word tasted bitter in Vel's mouth. He fought to keep his tone measured despite the anger bubbling beneath. "Hileya might be a servant, but she's a person of her own." His fingers pressed into the arms of his chair. "Besides, I'm not the one..."
"It was my idea."
Vel turned at Hileya's quiet but firm voice. She stepped forward, hands still clasped in her skirts but chin lifted with determination.
"Lady Halen wanted me to be helpful to young master Vel. This is the path I chose. I'm neither betraying Lady Halen or young master."
Nema's expression darkened. "And you understand what you're committing yourself to?"
"Whatever it is—" Hileya began, but Nema raised his hand, cutting her off.
"If you're asking for my help, there will be a price." He pulled a fresh sheet of parchment from his desk drawer. "But I will deny any responsibility in this should she ask."
Vel watched the exchange, noting how Hileya's shoulders had squared, her usual submissive posture replaced by something more resolute.
"What kind of price?" Vel asked carefully.
The merchant's lips curved into a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Undetermined. Call it an owned favor. I will ask for return when the time comes."
Vel didn't like the sound of that—open-ended debts were dangerous—but he nodded slowly. "As long as it doesn't involve harming others."
"I'm a businessman, not a monster," Nema replied, seeming almost offended.
Nema stood up and walked to a locked shelf against the wall. He pulled out a dark bottle, handling it with reverence. Inside, an iridescent ink shifted between deep purple and midnight blue.
"This isn't something I show to just anyone," Nema said, voice lowered. "Here's what we can alter in terms of the contract."
He began writing on the parchment, his quill scratching softly as he listed items.
"Time and duration," he said, making a notation. "Termination—who gets to decide when it ends. Extension—and its conditions."
Vel leaned forward, studying the list as it grew.
"Free autonomy to a certain degree," Nema continued. "The attendant must not harm their master, intentionally or accidentally. The attendant cannot sign another contract while having this one active. The attendant must not stay inactive while their master is in apparent danger."
Vel glanced at Hileya, who was watching the process with intense focus.
"The attendant must serve the purpose agreed upon in this contract." Nema tapped the quill against a blank space. "To be filled here."
He set the quill down and looked up at them. "And most importantly—the contract cannot be voided within one year due to its magical properties. The binding needs time to settle, and premature breaking causes... complications."
Vel frowned at this last stipulation. A year was a significant commitment.
"What kind of complications?" he asked.
Nema's expression grew more serious. "Mana reflux."
Vel felt a chill at the gravity in the merchant's voice. "What's that?"
"The contract aligns the master and attendant's mana pathways," Nema explained. "Disrupting it right after it settles in causes severe magical backlash. It's harmful to both parties."
Like severing a connection before properly closing it, Vel thought. Corrupts both systems.
"How harmful?" Celia asked, leaning forward with concern etched across her face.
"Depends on the strength of both parties," Nema replied. "Minor cases result in temporary magical instability. Severe cases..." He drew his finger across his throat in a cutting motion.
A heavy silence fell over the room. Vel glanced at Hileya, who had gone pale but maintained her composure.
"So..." Nema cleared his throat, "what is the agreed purpose of this contract?"
Hileya and Vel looked at each other. Something unspoken passed between them—uncertainty, determination, and a trace of fear.
"Personal maid," Hileya said finally, her voice quiet but firm.
Nema raised an eyebrow, his pen hovering over the parchment. "Just that? Nothing about magical training or attunement development?"
"That's between us," Vel said firmly. "The contract only needs to cover her official duties."
"Fine." Nema wrote the designation on the parchment. "Anything else I should know about?"
Vel crossed his arms. "I think you've covered the essentials."
"Well, there is one more thing," Nema added, setting down his quill.
Vel leaned forward. "What is it?"
"There could be some side effects."
"You should have led with that," Vel said, his tone sharpening. "What kind of side effects?"
"During the initial phase—shared sensations, exchanging thoughts." Nema waved his hand dismissively. "But it will fade over time. You'll be yourself again."
"That's... concerning." Vel shifted uncomfortably in his seat. The idea of someone else in his head, even temporarily, made him uneasy. What if Hileya glimpsed memories of his past life? Or worse, what if she saw the interface only he was supposed to see?
"What might they share with each other?" Celia asked, voicing the question Vel was too worried to ask.
Nema leaned back, steepling his fingers. "It varies depending on how strong the bond becomes. Some pairs just finish each other's sentences. Others share brief visions or emotions."
He paused. "There were rare cases where the bonds grew too strong. They refused to separate, others became lovers. Very rare, but possible. That's why—"
"Why what?" Vel asked.
"That's why half-elves existed even during the conflict."
Celia shifted in her chair. "Maybe Hileya should stay with me during this period. I can watch for any unusual effects."
Vel caught the slight edge in her voice but her suggestion made sense given his concerns.
"I don't mind that," Vel said, perhaps too quickly.
Hileya looked between them, her expression carefully neutral. "If young master and Miss Celia think it's best..."
"It's settled then," Nema said, reaching for the strange iridescent ink. "Shall we proceed with the contract?"
Nema handed the special ink and quill to Vel and Hileya with a solemn expression.
Vel held the quill but didn't move to sign yet. He turned to Hileya. "Are you sure about this?"
Hileya met his eyes, her expression steady despite the weight of the moment. "I am, young master."
"Once we sign, we can't break it for a year. You understand that?"
"I understand."
Vel studied her face for a moment longer, searching for any hesitation. Finding none, he nodded.
"The master signs first," Nema instructed, pointing to a line at the bottom of the parchment.
Vel took the quill, dipping it into the strange ink. The liquid seemed to cling to the nib, almost reluctant to let go. He hesitated for just a moment before signing his name with a flourish.
Hileya accepted the quill next, her fingers trembling slightly as she added her signature below his. The ink dried almost immediately, taking on a metallic sheen against the parchment.
Nema leaned forward, his brow furrowing. "That's strange..." he murmured, staring at the contract.
"What is?" Vel asked, trying to keep his voice casual despite the sudden spike of concern.
"Usually, the ink glows and magic forms," Nema explained, reaching out to touch the parchment cautiously. "But nothing's happening."
As Nema spoke, Vel noticed something flashing in the corner of his vision—a notification from his interface.
[New follower contract received. Accept?]
Yes / No.
That explains it, Vel thought. The system was intercepting the magical contract, treating it as an administrative function rather than allowing the normal magical manifestation to occur.
He mentally selected 'Yes' while maintaining a puzzled expression for Nema's benefit.
Instantly, the contract began to glow with a soft golden light. The parchment dissolved, breaking down into countless particles of luminescent dust. The particles split into two clusters, each flying toward Vel and Hileya. They circled around their wrists before being absorbed into their skin. Small sigils appeared briefly where the particles entered—intricate patterns that pulsed once before fading away as if they had never existed.
"Interest—ting," Vel said, watching as Hileya finished examining her hand where the sigil had appeared.
"Is that all?" they both said simultaneously, then looked at each other in surprise.
Vel looked at Hileya, taking in her expression after their simultaneous response. A moment of silence stretched between them. Hileya's cheeks flushed pink as she quickly averted her gaze, looking down at her hands folded in her lap.
From the corner of his eye, Vel noticed Celia's lips pressing into a thin line, her cheeks puffing slightly as she crossed her arms over her chest.
"I guess it's working," Nema said with a satisfied nod. "Well, do you need my assistance with something else?"
Hileya rose from her seat as Vel shook his head. "No, thank you."
Before they reached the door, Nema's voice stopped them.
"Master Vel. There's one more thing I need to ask."
Vel turned, waiting for him to continue.
"What have you been doing at the Academy?"
"What do you mean?"
Nema's expression grew serious. "There have been people asking about you."
"What kind of people?" A cold weight settled in Vel's stomach.
"Nobles, merchants. Your name keeps coming up in their conversations." Nema leaned back in his chair. "I cannot say their names, but in my years in this business, this is a sign. They're either gathering information about you or investigating."
He met Vel's eyes directly. "Whatever you're doing—be careful. You still owe me a favor."
As they exited the office and stepped into the corridor, Vel's mind raced. People were investigating him. Was it the duel with Thornwood? The tournament performances? Or maybe it was that incident in the nobles' courtyard when he'd produced the Pegasus Knights seal—had someone looked into that?
He became acutely aware of Hileya walking just behind him. The contract. The shared sensations Nema had warned about.
Keep my thoughts to myself. Keep my thoughts to myself.
He repeated the mantra silently. The last thing he needed right now was for her to sense his growing concern through their new bond.
A soft giggle escaped from Hileya.
Oh, this is not good.
She could already sense his thoughts. The bond was working immediately.
At least Celia had offered to keep Hileya with her during the initial phase. Distance—he needed distance until these side effects faded. The last thing he needed was someone else glimpsing the truth about who—or what—he really was.
"Should I resume my duty?" Hileya asked softly as they walked through the corridor, her voice hesitant.
Vel nodded quickly, perhaps too eagerly. "I think it's best for both of us. So we don't accidentally share things that we don't want to." He carefully avoided meeting her eyes.
"Celia, thank you for agreeing to help," Vel said, turning to his friend who walked beside them with arms still crossed.
"Don't mention it," Celia replied with a casual shrug, though her tone remained slightly tense. "I'll make sure she's comfortable in my quarters."
Vel wasted no time heading back to his quarters, his pace quickening as he turned the corner. He needed distance to test if it would weaken the mental connection.
---
Vel tossed and turned in his bed, unable to find a comfortable position. Every time he started to drift off, a new sensation would jolt him awake. The soft brush of fabric against skin that wasn't his. A warmth in his chest that felt foreign yet intimate. The fresh taste of mint on his tongue despite not having had any tea.
He pulled the blanket over his head with a groan. Was that flutter of anxiety his own? Or was it seeping through the bond?
A wave of embarrassment washed over him—definitely not his own. His face heated in response. What were they doing over there?
More importantly, what was Hileya picking up from his end?
The contract's side effects were far more intense than Nema had warned. Another burst of warmth bloomed in his chest, accompanied by contentment he hadn't felt moments before.
Vel pressed his face into his pillow. The uncertainty gnawed at him. He couldn't tell where his consciousness ended and Hileya's began.
What if she glimpsed something she shouldn't through their connection?
Sleep, when it finally came, brought no relief from the question.