This soul had just awakened. Bruce had no idea how the soul would react to his presence but from the easy way he sat there, from the openness of the gesture, from the fact that he was not hiding his pleasure even though a stranger had walked up on him — Bruce could tell something else about him.

He was the kind of person who showed what he felt. The kind that did not bother with masks. That was a temperament, and it was a useful one to find.

If the young man was like that, then there was a chance Bruce could get information.

Bruce stopped a few paces out. He did not have time to be careful. The drain was still working on him and he could feel his edges going thinner by the second.

"How did you do it?" he said.

The young man, who had clearly noticed Bruce’s approach long before Bruce stopped walking, turned his head and looked at him properly for the first time.

"Huh?"

"I said how did you do it."

There was a pause.

The young man’s eyebrows went up. He looked Bruce over slowly, from head to foot and back again, and then he settled into a small lazy smile that was, in Bruce’s estimation, exactly the smile of a man who had just been given an excuse to enjoy himself.

"Such a cold tone," the young man said. "Not even brother. Not even please. Not a single word to show you’re actually begging me for this."

Bruce was, for a moment, dumbfounded.

He opened his mouth to respond, he was not even sure what he was going to say, but before any sound came out, the young man burst out laughing.

"haha hahahaha!"

It was a real laugh. Loud, full-throated, head thrown back. The sound did not muffle the way the screaming had muffled out in the open mist. It carried. Bruce realized, watching him laugh, that the swirl had created a small pocket of air here, a calmer zone, less dense, where sound moved properly.

"Good, good," the young man said, still grinning when he settled. "You remind me of my bastard friend Dagon. Bro never figured out how to express himself properly either. I was planning to devour you for your soul essence, you know. That’s why I let you walk in. Free meal."

He shrugged one shoulder.

"But I’ll help you instead. I need a buddy in this Soul Realm anyway."

Bruce, who had been about to push the question again, stopped.

The list of reasons hit him in the wrong order, and for a few seconds he could not work out which part to react to first.

’Devour me for my soul essence? Free meal? Help me instead? Need a buddy to protect.’

He stood there.

He had walked into the swirl already half-expecting that the soul inside might be hostile. He had not expected to be told, casually, that he had nearly been eaten, and then offered friendship in the same breath, and then, apparently, to have his entire situation reframed as the young man wanting company.

He did not know what to say.

The young man tilted his head slightly.

"You’re a human from the physical realm, right?"

Bruce blinked.

That was a sharp question. Physical realm. The young man had not asked where are you from or how did you get here, he had named it. He knew the structure of the universe. He knew there was a physical realm, and he knew that humans came from it, and he knew, apparently, what a human looked like on sight even after the realm had stripped it down to a soul.

Bruce had walked into the swirl hoping to find someone who knew how to awaken a soul talent. He had walked into the swirl hoping to find someone who knew more than him.

Such person and more was right in front of him, he even knew much more than him.

Getting on good terms with this soul, Bruce realized very quickly, was not just useful. It might be the most important thing he did in this realm.

He frowned, slightly, working out the angle.

"Are you an Ascendant?" the young man asked.

"What’s an Ascendant?"

The young man stared at him for a beat. Then he raised one hand, slowly, and put his palm against his own forehead in a gesture of such complete and theatrical disappointment that Bruce, despite the cold drain at his consciousness, almost laughed.

"You don’t even know what an Ascendant is." The young man dragged the words out. "Lowering myself to the level of a lowly human is one thing. Lowering my standards to a non-knowledgeable one is something else entirely."

He shook his head.

Bruce considered for a moment. The young man was being insulting, but the insult was performative, the same way his earlier I was going to devour you had been performative. He was a man who liked the sound of his own complaints. He was not actually offended. He was playing.

Bruce had spent decades in the mortal world dealing with surgeons of exactly this temperament. The trick was to play along just enough that they felt heard, and then steer them where you needed them to go.

"So what is it," he said. He paused. "Brother."

The young man’s eyes lit up at the word.

He let out a long, exasperated sigh, the kind of sigh that was clearly pleased underneath. He waved a hand in the air as if conceding a great burden. 𝗳𝚛𝗲𝕖𝕨𝕖𝗯𝚗𝚘𝕧𝕖𝗹.𝗰𝗼𝕞

"Fine, fine. Since you asked properly."

He shifted his weight, settling more comfortably on the grey.

"An Ascendant," he said, "is a soul that descends to the Soul Realm willingly. From outside. From one of the other realms. They keep their body somewhere, back in the physical realm, usually, and send the soul down here on purpose, while the body waits. So tell me." He raised an eyebrow. "Are you an Ascendant?"

Bruce thought about it for less than a second.

He could see, immediately, that there were reasons to lie. He did not know this soul. He did not know what an Ascendant meant in this realm, whether they were welcomed, hunted, taxed, killed on sight. He had no information about the politics of this place. Lying might be the safe answer.

But the young man had already named him as human from the physical realm without being told. He had already worked out enough to ask the question in the first place.

And lying now, badly, to someone clearly more knowledgeable than Bruce, to someone whose help Bruce needed and who had, for whatever strange reason, decided to offer it, would close the door Bruce had just walked through.

The drain on his consciousness pulled a little harder. He felt his edges go a little thinner. He had minutes, not hours.

He met the young man’s eyes.

"Yes," he said.

The young man’s expression did not change at first.

He just looked at Bruce. The amused, lazy openness that had been on his face the whole conversation stayed there. But something behind his eyes shifted, something quieter, more measuring, the way a man’s face shifts when he has just received a piece of information that rearranges his understanding of the situation in front of him.

The pause was short.

Then he grinned, wider than before.

"You didn’t lie, well," he said. "That changes things."

He patted the grey beside him.

"Sit down, brother. We’ve got a lot to talk about. And from the look of you," his eyes flicked over Bruce’s edges, where the mist was still working, "you don’t have very long to listen, so I’m going to talk fast."

Bruce sat down.

The drain did not stop. He could still feel the mist working at him, slow and steady, taking small portions of his consciousness with each breath. But sitting here, inside the soft pocket of calmer air the young man’s swirl had created, the rate was slower. Noticeably slower. Whatever the young man was doing, his presence was thinning the mist’s appetite in this immediate area.

Bruce took the first easy breath he had taken since arriving.

The young man held out a hand.

"Name’s Kael," he said.

Bruce took the hand. The grip was solid, warm in the way soul-things were warm.

"Bruce."

"Bruce." Kael repeated it, testing it. "Boring name. Suits you. Alright, Bruce, listen carefully, because I’m only going to explain this once and the mist is eating you while I do it."

Bruce nodded and listened.

Kael leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. The lazy grin was still on his face, but his eyes had gone sharper now, more focused. He had said he was going to talk fast, and he did.

"Every soul has three imprints," he said. "Deep in the core. Most souls never see them. Most souls never even know they have them. But they’re there. Three of them, always. They are your identity, they’re what makes you you."