"Now, may each of you heroes step forward to receive your grimoires?" the king asked, his eyes in pursuit of the first person to come forth.
"Now hold on, you still haven't really told us what grimoires are," Elias responded, the humor in his tone and expression forcing a little laugh to escape Rowan's mouth.
"Yeah, why do I have to step near that death trap?" Kaia added on, her pointer finger aimed at the glistening 'god sphere,' the surrounding shroom of aura resonating from it a deep 'hrmmmm.'
"I know I've been asking a lot of you, heroes, but this is absolutely necessary not only to your future success, but your survival in this world as well. If you still find yourself uncomfortable with coming near the device, then let me demonstrate its function."
The king twisted around to the opposite direction, his fists balled as he made his way to the god sphere.
With each passing step, the thrumming of the ball shifted its pitch and intensity. At first, it'd had a simple hum, the sound a pleasant one. But as the king got within just a few paces of the sphere, its hum transformed into a low shrill.
Unwavering, Viral stuck out his right arm, his fingers spread and palm open.
Rowan's eyes burned with white-hot pain as the room instantly lit up in a bright light, the spontaneity of such a stimulus retiring his ability to react.
As Rowan just barely followed suit and covered his eyes with both hands, the deep ache that had made itself home behind his eyes was one he tried to rub out, hoping to at least alleviate the time it would take for his eyes to adjust.
But the surging discomfort diminished as quickly as it had sprouted, the ambient light evaporating into smaller, more manageable units of luminosity that floated out and about in the air.
Rowan rubbed his eyes one more time, half-expecting the residual pains to be rubbed out like an irritant caught in your eyelashes, but decided out of curiosity to peek through his right hand along his original prime focus.
"What?" yelled the five of them heroes, all of them tilting their heads up with folded arms leaning back behind themselves as they looked on at the scene playing out just ahead of them.
There was a bright light yet, its illumination even greater than the original blast that had discombobulated Rowan.
However, it was confined to a smaller space, bearing a small, thin line that extended from the king's chest to the closest end of the sphere, almost like that of a tether.
"You come before me again, feeble human?"
Rowan jutted back so far that he almost fell on his back, the deep growl a cruel surprise to his ears.
With each passing word the sphere grumbled, its surrounding light pulsed in intensity.
"Yes, your heavenly eminence. I seek your continued guidance, hopefully to aid the uninitiated in this room."
The sphere's pulses slowed, its low grumbles so resonant they rumbled the ground.
"Hm... I wonder... how about no? You and your ancestors have already resolved to make me service only the royal family, rotting away in a room as I wait for your next of kin. After a thousand years or so, it gets sickening. As such, I will not respond to anything you request of me unless it's absolutely necessary."
The king's eye twitched, a forced smile on his face as he stationed himself on one knee, tilting his head down.
"Oh, Great One, had I known you felt such offense, I would've motioned for your appeasement ages ago. What is it you seek?"
The sphere laid still, its pulses slowing to resemble that of a heartbeat.
"Hah, as long as you understand how much you need me. At which case, I implore you to put me next to the throne at all times, never to be removed."
The king stayed silent for a couple seconds, his face unmoving.
"It is done," Viral responded, a smile on his face.
Suddenly, the thread tethering the king and the sphere lit up, small orbs of energy sizzling out into the air as the light dissipated into the abyss.
"As you heroes can see, the sphere will do you no harm. It is perfectly safe to speak to it," the king remarked as he propped himself up with his right arm, stepping back from the sphere and turning back towards them.
"Now then, who shall go first?"
Flagging his open palms with his fingers to motion a 'come,' Lucien was the first to step up, his chest unnaturally puffed out.
"I will do it."
The king stepped past Lucien, patting him on the shoulder.
"Great, then do as I showed and raise your hand forth."
The king took refuge in the same line as the other heroes, all of them drawing their attention towards Lucien's silent approach by an invisible force of gravity.
"Ah, a hero. Has that time already come?" the sphere stated, the same tether beginning to form between itself and Lucien.
"What is this?" Lucien inquired, eyes wide with confusion and lips trembling.
"Ah, you're referencing this little patch of light connecting us? This is a soul thread, the thing that allows the human body to interact with the Way."
"A soul thread?" Lucien remarked as he reached out to touch the soul thread, his nose wrinkled by the rigid expression on his face.
"Yeah, I wouldn't recommend that—"
"Ahhhh!"
An electrical surge came over Lucien as the putrid scent of burnt flesh encumbered Rowan's sense of smell, the resultant shock lighting up the entire throne room.
"What did I say? Humans aren't meant to physically interact with their soul. Pulling on your soul thread would be like trying to directly yank a nerve out of your body—only worse because it screams back at you."
Lucien was bubbling at the mouth, his eyes white and limbs loose as he laid on his stomach. Seeing him in such a sorry state was a little bit of a hard watch, that was for sure.
"Hah, this one's a funny one. I think I like him!" the god sphere said with sarcasm, its pulsing lights even brighter than usual.
Vrrrmmmm!
Suddenly, another bright light began to coalesce at the still-unconscious Lucien's hip, floating in the air in a weirdly square shape.
"Hm, that's an interesting grimoire," the god sphere spoke, the tether between the two dissipating into the atmosphere.