[Day Five of Recovery][Location: Academy Infirmary - Private Room][Time: Late Evening]
Sol waited until the healer's final check was complete, until the halls outside went quiet with evening curfew, until he was absolutely certain he had privacy.
Finally. Finally.
Five days of constant visitors. Well-meaning friends, curious nobles, concerned professors, royal officials wanting statements. Five days of never being alone long enough to do what he'd needed to do since waking up.
Actually speak with his contracted guardian.
Sol sat up carefully—his body still protested movement, mana pathways still tender—and extended his awareness inward. Found the contract mark burning softly in his chest, right next to the soul-bond with Godfrey.
[Contract Status: Meridith - Forest Guardian][Binding: Active][Connection: Minimal (not yet fully explored)][Maintenance Cost: 47 MP][Location: Royal custody, evaluation wing]
The contract was there, solid and real. His first binding in this new life. But he hadn't actually used it yet—hadn't called her, hadn't tested the connection, hadn't explored what capabilities the contract provided.
Time to fix that.
Sol closed his eyes and pulled on the contract thread, sending a pulse of intent through the binding. Not a command—he'd made that mistake with forced contracts before. An invitation. A request.
Meridith. If you're able, if they'll let you, I'd like to speak with you.
For several seconds, nothing happened.
Then the air in the corner of his room rippled, and she was there.
She didn't teleport—not exactly. More like she'd always been there and reality just remembered it. One moment empty corner, the next moment a woman standing with arms crossed, her silver hair catching moonlight from the window, her violet eyes fixed on him with an expression somewhere between disbelief and exasperation.
[Meridith - Status][Level: 287][Class: Primordial Guardian][Age: 847 years old] (Sol noted the ironic coincidence) [MP: 3,247/3,247][Current State: Bound, rehabilitated, extremely annoyed]
"A damn kid," were her first words. She stalked across the room to stand at the foot of his bed, glaring down at him. "No. A BABY. A literal BABY forced me into a contract."
Sol opened his mouth to respond.
"Do you know," Meridith continued, not letting him speak, "how humiliating this is? I'm 847 years old. I've served kings and arch-mages. I've guarded forests that predate civilization. I've killed demons and angels and things that don't have names. And now I'm bound to a FOUR-YEAR-OLD who can barely reach the kitchen counter!"
"I'm actually—" Sol tried.
"And the worst part?" Meridith leaned forward, her claws gripping the footboard. "The absolute worst part? You're not even embarrassed about it! You just contracted me like it was normal! Like ancient primordial guardians get bound by toddlers every Tuesday!"
She threw her hands up. "I've been in royal custody for five days, explaining to very confused officials how a child made a master-level contract, and not ONE person has given me a satisfactory answer for how this is possible!"
Sol waited to see if she was done.
Meridith glared at him. "Well? Explain yourself!"
"May I speak now?" Sol asked mildly.
"Don't be a smartass. You're four. You're not allowed to be a smartass yet."
"I'm 847 years old," Sol said. "Reincarnated soul. Previous life as Solomon, legendary Contractor, master of the Moving Manor. Died protecting my people, arranged resurrection through Phoenix contract, woke up as a four-year-old with all my memories intact." He paused. "Does that satisfy your question?"
Meridith stared at him. Then she laughed—sharp and slightly unhinged. "Of course. OF COURSE. The one person who contracts me after eighty-seven years of madness is a reincarnated legendary mage." She ran her hands through her silver hair. "The universe has a sick sense of humor."
"I've noticed that," Sol agreed.
She pulled the chair over and sat down heavily, her previous anger draining into something closer to exhausted resignation. "Solomon. The Solomon? Moving Manor, Thirteen contracted servants, Seal of Solomon, all the legends?"
"Yes."
"And now you're..." She gestured at his tiny body. "This."
"Unfortunately."
Meridith was quiet for a moment, studying him with those unsettling violet eyes. Then, softer: "You saved me. In the forest. You could have just killed me or enslaved me, but you didn't. You healed me." Her voice cracked slightly. "You gave me back myself. I haven't been myself in... I don't even remember how long."
"Eighty-seven years," Sol said gently. "Since your contractor died without passing your binding."
"Eighty-seven years of madness," Meridith whispered. "Of forgetting who I was. What I was. Becoming nothing but rage and pain and..." She looked at her claws. "I hurt those children. The ones you were with. I would have killed them if you hadn't stopped me."
"You weren't yourself," Sol said. "Broken contracts do that. I've seen it before—guardians without purpose, bindings without direction. It's not death, but it's not life either. Just existence without meaning."
"And you fixed it," Meridith said. "Somehow. A four-year-old baby fixed what arch-mages said was unfixable."
"I'm good at contracts," Sol said simply. "It's what I do. What I've always done."
Meridith leaned back, her expression complex. "So what now? You're my contractor. I'm bound to serve you, protect you, obey your commands. What does a four-year-old want with an ancient primordial guardian?"
"Honestly?" Sol said. "I haven't thought that far. I contracted you because you needed contracting and because everyone was about to die. The specifics of what happens next..." He shrugged as much as his injured body allowed. "We'll figure that out together."
"Together," Meridith repeated, tasting the word. "Like equals?"
"As much as a contract allows. I'm not interested in slaves, Meridith. Never have been. I want partners. Allies. People who choose to stay, not people forced to serve."
"But you forced the contract," she pointed out. "In the forest. I didn't choose—you made me."
"I forced the binding to save your life," Sol corrected. "To stop you from killing children and to stop the madness. But now that you're sane, now that you remember who you are—you can choose. Stay contracted and we'll figure out proper terms. Or I'll release you and you can go back to the forest."
Meridith stared at him like he'd grown a second head. "You'd... release me? Just like that?"
"If that's what you want," Sol said. "I'm not holding you prisoner. The contract is rehabilitation, not slavery. Once you're stable, once you're healed—you choose."
She was quiet for a long time. Then, almost whispered: "No one's ever given me choice before. Every contract I've had was made for me, not with me. Guardians don't get to choose their purpose. We're just... bound and used and passed along."
"That sounds horrible," Sol said.
"It is." Meridith looked at her hands again. "But it's all I've known for eight centuries. Choice is..." She trailed off. "Terrifying."
"Take your time," Sol said gently. "You don't have to decide tonight. We have time to figure this out."
Meridith nodded slowly, then seemed to shake herself out of darker thoughts. "Right. Okay. Business first, existential crisis later." She straightened in her chair. "You should know what you actually contracted. What I am, what I can do, what the binding gives you access to."
"I was hoping you'd explain that," Sol admitted. "I made the contract in desperate circumstances. I didn't exactly have time to negotiate specific terms."
"Lucky for you, primordial guardian contracts have standard parameters," Meridith said. "Basic function: I protect you, guard your territory, and lend you my power when needed. In exchange, you provide purpose, direction, and mana to sustain the binding."
"I'm paying 47 MP per day in maintenance," Sol noted.
"That's nothing," Meridith waved dismissively. "Once you're fully healed and your pool is larger, the cost will barely register. Hell, once you hit a thousand MP or so, the maintenance becomes self-sustaining through ambient mana absorption."
[MP: 68.4/126.4] (Still recovering, but progressing)
"What can you do?" Sol asked. "Specifically?"
Meridith grinned—showing teeth that were just slightly too sharp to be human. "I'm a primordial guardian, baby. I can do things that would make arch-mages weep with envy."
She started counting on her claws:
"First: Physical enhancement. I'm Level 287, which means my base stats are ridiculous. Strength, speed, durability—all far beyond normal mortals. I can tear through steel, run faster than horses, and take hits that would pulverize stone."
"Noted."
"Second: Guardian's Sanctuary. I can designate an area as my territory and enforce protection over it. Nothing hostile enters without my permission. It's how I protected Darkwood Forest for so long—even broken and mad, the guardian instinct remained."
"Could you extend that to, say, a room? Or a building?"
"Easily. Though I'd need to attune to the location first. Takes about a day of sitting around looking intimidating."
"Third?" Sol prompted.
"Third: Primal Magic. I don't cast spells like human mages. I enforce reality. I can manipulate nature—trees, earth, water, air. Not as flashy as fireball-throwing wizards, but more fundamental. I make things be what they should be."
"That's... abstract."
"It's primordial magic, baby. It doesn't work like your contract bindings. It just is." Meridith flexed her claws. "I can make trees grow in seconds, turn stone to mud, call storms, encourage or discourage natural life. Anything within my domain, I can shape."
Sol's analytical mind was already cataloging applications. A guardian who could manipulate environments, protect territory, and fight at Level 287? That was extraordinarily valuable.
"Fourth," Meridith continued, "and this is important: I can share my perception. Guardians see everything in our territory. Every bird, every insect, every intruder. When I'm attuned to a location, I become aware of all life within it. And through our contract, you can access that awareness."
"Like a surveillance network," Sol said.
"Exactly. Though more intuitive. You'll just know when something enters my territory, know where it is, know if it's hostile."
"That's incredibly useful."
"Told you." Meridith looked smug. "Primordial guardians are the best contracts you can make. We're not flashy, but we're reliable. Powerful. And loyal—assuming we're treated well."
"And fifth?" Sol asked. "You were counting."
Meridith's expression shifted—became more serious. "Fifth: The soul link. The one you haven't activated yet."
Sol felt it then—a dormant connection in the contract, waiting to be acknowledged. Not the binding itself, but something deeper. More intimate.
"What does it do?" Sol asked carefully.
"Links our souls directly," Meridith said. "Similar to your bond with the divine kid—Godfrey—but different. His bond is about shared growth and mutual enhancement. Mine is about power access and load sharing."
She leaned forward. "If you activate the soul link, you get direct access to my mana pool. All 3,247 points of it. You can draw on my power like it's your own, cast with my strength, channel magic that your tiny body couldn't normally handle."
Sol's breath caught. 3,247 MP. Added to his own 126 MP, that would give him over 3,300 MP to work with. Nearly a third of his former 10,000 MP capacity.
"But," Meridith continued, "it goes both ways. I get access to your knowledge. Your centuries of contract expertise. Your understanding of magical theory. Your everything. Soul links aren't one-directional—they're complete merger of resources."
"Like what happened with Godfrey in the forest," Sol said. "When I borrowed his capacity to make your contract."
"Exactly. Except that was emergency, unstable, nearly killed you because you forced it. This would be permanent, stable, designed to work safely." Meridith crossed her arms. "But it's also intimate. Soul links mean no secrets. I'd know everything about you. You'd know everything about me. We'd be bonded deeper than any other contract type."
Sol considered. The benefits were enormous—access to 3,247 MP would let him actually do meaningful magic, make proper contracts, defend himself and his friends. He could practice advanced techniques without fear of mana exhaustion. Could experiment with bindings he'd only theorized about before.
But the cost was privacy. Meridith would see his memories, his thoughts, his plans. Would know about the Thirteen, about his former life, about every secret he was carrying.
"You're hesitating," Meridith observed. "Smart. Soul links aren't something to enter lightly. I'm basically asking you to let me into your head permanently."
"It's not that I don't trust you," Sol said slowly. "It's that I barely know you. We met five days ago when you were trying to kill me. Now I'm supposed to bind our souls together?"
"Fair point." Meridith nodded. "So don't activate it yet. Get to know me first. Let me prove I'm worth trusting. When you're ready—if you're ever ready—the option is there."
She stood up, stretched with the fluid grace of a predator. "But you should know: the soul link isn't just about power. It's also about load sharing. Right now, maintaining our contract costs you 47 MP daily. That's a significant portion of your tiny pool. With the soul link active, I'd take that burden. The contract would sustain itself from my pool, not yours."
Sol hadn't considered that. 47 MP per day was indeed significant at his current capacity. If Meridith took that burden...
"And," Meridith added, her voice gentler, "you're still healing, baby. I can see it—your mana pathways are damaged from forcing too much power too fast. Every bit of mana you spend slows your recovery. If I took the contract burden, you'd heal faster. Weeks faster."
"You're trying to convince me to activate the soul link," Sol observed.
"I'm trying to take care of you, you stubborn brat," Meridith corrected. "You saved me. Healed me. Gave me back my sanity. The least I can do is help you recover from nearly killing yourself to save your friends." She sat back down, leaning forward intensely. "Look. I get it. Trust is hard. Soul links are scary. But you're injured, you're vulnerable, and from what I've heard, you have something called 'the Thirteen' arriving in eleven days to complicate your life even more."
Sol hadn't mentioned the Thirteen out loud. "How do you—"
"The divine kid talks a lot," Meridith said. "Visited me in custody, wanted to make sure I wasn't going to hurt you again. Told me all about your soul-bond, your former life, your missing family." She smiled slightly. "He's protective. I approve."
"Godfrey has no sense of privacy," Sol muttered.
"Neither will I, if you activate the link," Meridith said bluntly. "But at least I'm upfront about it. And in exchange, you get 3,247 MP to play with, faster healing, and a guardian who can actually do her job without draining your resources."
She met his eyes. "I won't push. It's your choice. But think about it practically: you're about to reunite with your former family. Wouldn't you rather do that as a contractor with actual power, instead of a four-year-old who can barely cast light spells?"
She had a point. A very good point.
"Don't answer now," Meridith said, standing again. "You're exhausted, still recovering, probably overwhelmed. Sleep on it. Spend a few days getting to know me. Then decide." She moved toward the corner where she'd appeared. "I'll be in custody for at least another week anyway—royal bureaucracy moves slowly. Plenty of time to figure this out."
"Meridith," Sol said before she could leave. "Thank you. For explaining everything. For being honest about the costs and benefits."
She paused, looked back at him. "You're a good kid, Sol. Solomon. Whatever name you use. You could have enslaved me. Could have made the contract cruel and binding and controlling. But you didn't. You gave me choice." Her expression softened. "That's worth more than you know. So yeah, I'll be honest with you. I'll be useful. And I'll protect you, whether you activate the soul link or not."
She started to fade, reality forgetting she was there again.
"Wait," Sol said. "How are you leaving? The custody ward should have bindings—"
"I'm a primordial guardian, baby," Meridith's voice echoed as she vanished. "Wards are suggestions to me, not rules. Besides, you're my contractor now. They can't keep me from you unless you order it."
She disappeared completely, leaving Sol alone with his thoughts.
[Later That Night]
Sol lay in bed, unable to sleep, his mind churning through possibilities.
The soul link offered enormous advantages:
3,247 additional MP to work with Contract burden transferred to Meridith Faster healing (weeks saved) Access to guardian abilities Power sufficient to face the Thirteen as something more than helpless child
But it cost total transparency:
No secrets from Meridith Complete access to his memories Intimate knowledge of everything he was Vulnerability if she ever turned on him
[Analysis: Risk Assessment][Benefit: HIGH (practical power increase)][Cost: HIGH (complete privacy loss)][Trust Level: MODERATE (too early to be certain)][Time Pressure: MODERATE (11 days until Thirteen arrive)][Recommendation: ???]
Sol pulled up his status, examining his current capabilities.
[Current Status][MP: 71.8/126.4] (Recovering, but slowly) [Contracts: 1 (Meridith, costing 47 MP/day)][Soul-Bonds: 1 (Godfrey, enhancing growth)][Available Combat Power: Minimal][Recovery Time: 2-3 weeks without intervention][Recovery Time with Soul Link: 3-7 days]
The math was compelling. With the soul link, he'd be combat-capable when the Thirteen arrived. Without it, he'd still be a recovering child who could barely cast basic spells.
But trust couldn't be calculated mathematically.
Sol thought about Meridith's eyes when she'd said he'd given her choice. The genuine gratitude. The way she'd called him stubborn but protective. How she'd offered honesty even when it would be easier to manipulate.
He thought about Godfrey's soul-bond—how terrifying it had been at first, how vulnerable it made him, but how invaluable it had proven. True partnership required risk.
He thought about the Thirteen. His family. Who would arrive expecting Solomon the Legendary Contractor and find Sol the Powerless Child unless he did something to change that.
Sol closed his eyes and reached for the dormant connection in Meridith's contract. The soul link, waiting to be activated.
Not yet, he decided. But soon. Let her prove herself a few more days. Let me prove to myself that I can trust her.
The connection pulsed acknowledgment—somehow, through the contract, Meridith felt his consideration and his hesitation. And she didn't push.
That was a good sign.
Sol drifted toward sleep, his last thought being that he'd made a good contract in the forest. Not just in binding, but in finding someone worth binding with.
Even if she did insist on calling him "baby."
[End Chapter Fourteen]
[Status Update][Days Until Thirteen: 11][MP: 71.8/126.4 (Recovering)][Meridith: Explaining contract capabilities, offering soul link][Soul Link Decision: Pending (Sol considering)][Potential Power With Link: 3,300+ MP total][Recovery Speed With Link: 3-7 days instead of 2-3 weeks][Trust Level: Building][Note: Major decision ahead—accept vulnerability for power, or remain independent but weak?]
[Meridith's Abilities - Summary]
Physical Enhancement (Level 287 combat capability) Guardian's Sanctuary (territory protection) Primal Magic (environmental manipulation) Shared Perception (surveillance network) Soul Link (3,247 MP access + load sharing, requires trust)
[Soul Link Mechanics]
Grants Sol access to Meridith's full mana pool Transfers contract maintenance burden to Meridith Creates permanent two-way connection Shares memories, knowledge, and capabilities Requires mutual trust and consent Accelerates Sol's healing significantly