Naming

Melissa pressed herself against Steven, her bare skin warm as they slipped beneath the threadbare covers of the narrow bed. Her breath softened, a contented sigh slipping out. “That was… fantastic, Steven. You really are special. I wish we could do this forever,” she murmured, her voice a drowsy melody. Steven grinned, a mischievous glint in his eye as he saw an opening to test his shadowed powers. “Would you sell your soul for it?” he asked, keeping his tone playful yet edged with intent.

“Yup, sure would,” she giggled, her words a sleepy jest. Instantly, the Soulcatcher’s Band on his thumb pulsed—warmth bloomed, then flared into a throbbing heat, a trapped pulse echoing through the metal. Moments later, it cooled to a sharp chill before settling back to normal. Steven stiffened, a surge of bewilderment gripping him. Melissa nuzzled closer, drifting into sleep, her silver hair fanning across his chest. He lay still, heart pounding, mind spinning. Did I just take her soul?

He raised his left hand, the ring catching the faint lamplight. Focusing, he whispered Identify. A translucent window flickered into view: “Soulcatcher’s Band. A relic of binding. Captures souls for the wielder’s will. Current souls: Melissa Veylthorne.” His breath hitched. “Holy shit, I own her soul,” he thought, a cocktail of thrill and unease churning inside him.

Driven by curiosity, he turned Identify on himself. The screen expanded: “Steven Shatterkynn. Race: Human. Guild Rank: D. Height: 5’9”. Weight: 165 lbs. Max Health: 120. Max Mana: 80. Skills: Unarmed Combat Lvl 16, Resilience Lvl 20, Holy Magic Lvl 11, Leatherworking Lvl 1. Radiant Armament: [Unnamed], [Unnamed], [Unnamed].” Three blank slots pulsed under Radiant Armament, waiting. He pieced it together—fists, feet, body. “Fists of Holy Fury,” he thought, and the first filled. “Feet of Holy Fury,” he said softly, claiming the second. For the full-body blaze, he smirked—“Saiyan Fury.” The third locked in, the trio named.

His hidden skills—Mind-Dominion, Fleshsculpting, Soulbinding—were missing. He cast Identify again, sharper this time. A new section unfurled: “Hidden Skills: Mind-Dominion Lvl 1, Fleshsculpting Lvl 1, Soulbinding Lvl 1.” There they hid, his secret weapons veiled from prying eyes. Emboldened, he focused, casting Identify on Saiyan Fury. A detailed window emerged: “Saiyan Fury: Full-body manifestation of Radiant Armament. Boosts speed by 100%, strength by 150%, reflexes by 80%. Holy flames deal radiant damage. Mana Cost: 30 (flat activation). Duration: Sustained until cancelled by user. Note: Mana regenerates normally while active.”

Steven’s eyes widened—30 mana flat, no drain over time, just a one-time cost he could sustain indefinitely until he shut it off. Potent, controlled, a game-changer. Melissa shifted in his arms, oblivious to her soul now bound to his ring. He settled back, thoughts racing—her soul in his grasp, his skills sharpening, power thrumming through him. What could he wield with this? And what did her soul’s capture unlock?

Steven lay in the dim glow of the cramped room, Melissa’s soft breaths a quiet rhythm against his chest. His mind churned, the Soulcatcher’s Band a cold weight on his thumb, her soul now his—a mystery begging to be unraveled. The revelations from Identify fueled his curiosity, and he turned his focus inward, casting the spell on each of his hidden skills to peel back their secrets.

First, Mind-Dominion. He whispered the name under his breath, and a window flared in his vision: “Mind-Dominion Lvl 1: Grants the power to influence and command the thoughts of others. At current level, can implant simple suggestions or sway emotions in a single target. Range: 10 feet. Mana Cost: 20 per use. Success Rate: 60% against average willpower, decreases with stronger minds. Duration: 1 minute or until resisted. Note: Repeated use on the same target increases familiarity, boosting efficacy over time.” His pulse quickened—control over minds, a whisper of power that could bend others to his will. Subtle, insidious, thrilling.

Next, Fleshsculpting. He focused, and the screen shifted: “Fleshsculpting Lvl 1: Allows manipulation of living flesh—self or others—with intent and precision. At current level, can alter minor physical traits (e.g., hair length, skin texture) or heal small wounds beyond natural recovery. Range: Touch. Mana Cost: 15 per use. Duration: Permanent unless reversed. Limit: Changes must be biologically viable; complex restructuring requires higher levels. Note: Pain may occur in unwilling targets.” He glanced at Melissa’s hair, two inches longer by his hand—a taste of what this could do. Healing, shaping—a sculptor’s art turned to life.

Finally, Soulbinding. The ring pulsed faintly as he named it, and the window appeared: “Soulbinding Lvl 1: Enables the capture and command of souls via the Soulcatcher’s Band. At current level, can bind one soul willingly offered through verbal pact. Bound souls are tethered to the ring, granting the wielder influence over their actions (subtle nudges, not full control). Mana Cost: 25 per binding (initial pact only). Capacity: 1 soul. Note: Bound souls retain awareness; influence strength grows with level. Ethical implications untested.” His eyes flicked to Melissa, sleeping peacefully—her soul snared by a flippant “sure.” Influence, not slavery—a thread of power he barely grasped.

Steven exhaled, the screens fading. Three gifts from Lysandra, each a blade of potential—mind, flesh, soul. Mind-Dominion to sway, Fleshsculpting to shape, Soulbinding to tether. With Saiyan Fury already blazing, he was a walking arsenal, bronze card or not. Melissa’s soul in his ring pulsed faintly, a silent question: what now? Use her? Test further? Or keep it buried, a secret trump card?

Steven lay beneath the covers, Melissa’s sleeping form nestled against him, her soft breaths a gentle cadence in the dim light. The revelations of his hidden skills burned in his mind, and with a flicker of intent, he decided to test them further—here, now, with her soul already his. The Soulcatcher’s Band glinted faintly as he began.

First, Fleshsculpting. He focused on her silver hair, splayed across his chest, recalling her wistful desire for longer locks. Touching her scalp lightly, he channeled the spell—mana flowed, 15 points draining from his pool as his intent took shape. Her hair shimmered, stretching slowly, inch by inch, the longest his Level 1 skill could muster. It grew to her mid-back, a cascade of shimmering silver, biologically sound but at the edge of his current limit. As the change settled, a chime rang in his mind—ding—and a sensation of growth pulsed within him. Fleshsculpting Lvl 2, he realized, the skill leveling from the effort.

Next, Mind-Dominion. With her asleep, defenseless, he saw an opening to smooth over the change. He leaned close, whispering the command into her ear—20 mana ebbed away. “Don’t question your longer hair. Be happy it’s growing—feel joy at it.” Her willpower, dormant in slumber, offered no resistance; the suggestion sank deep, a 60% success rate irrelevant against her unawake mind. A faint smile curved her lips, as if dreaming of her new length, the spell taking root effortlessly.

Finally, Soulbinding. The ring warmed as he tapped its power, 25 mana already spent in the initial binding, but now he wielded its influence—no extra cost, just will. Staring at her peaceful face, he murmured, “Be more flirty with me—sexually bold, playful.” The ring pulsed once, a subtle thread of command weaving into her bound soul. Not control, but a nudge—her natural inclinations tilted toward his desire, to bloom when she woke.

Steven exhaled, mana low—30 left of his 80 after the trio of spells. Melissa stirred faintly, her newly lengthened hair spilling across the pillow, unaware of the changes he’d wrought. Fleshsculpting Lvl 2, Mind-Dominion Lvl 1, Soulbinding Lvl 1—each flexed, tested, proven. The chime of his level-up echoed in his skull, a quiet victory. He watched her sleep, a mix of triumph and unease coiling in his gut. Her soul, her mind, her body—touched by his power in ways she’d never suspect.