8th of Carnsmoon
Mercedes Caulis – Sixth Stratum:Incindia Barham
Fshh!
"Ignis Rooks!"
Sion's hair was disheveled, his robes torn and scorched. Ash clung to his cheeks as he panted, wand raised, eyes blazing with defiance.
Three magic circles spun around him, firing a spiral of flaming bursts across the training field.
Leopold didn't flinch. He simply snapped his fingers.
Three red arrays blinked into place—one on each side, the third above. Unlike Sion's, these were larger, their designs intricate, the runes etched into them glowing fiercely.
Runes Sion didn't recognize. Couldn't even begin to decipher.
Like mirrors, the arrays unleashed three blazing torrents to meet Sion's own.
But Leopold's flames were faster. Wilder. Denser. They devoured Sion's attacks and surged forward, unrelenting.
Shit! the Ulster heir hissed under his breath. He had no decent defense—again—so all he could do was dive out of the way.
Thump.
He rolled gracelessly across the ground. Behind him, the wall shuddered as Leopold's flames struck it.
Boom!
Scorch marks spread across the stone. A flicker of glowing runes lit up the surface—proof of a strong barrier laid in advance. A necessary precaution to avoid the constant hassle of repairs.
Dwarves, with few exceptions—one guide in particular and a rare tribe—were rarely permitted beyond the tower's first floor. That left repairs to the mages themselves.
Not that they were eager to get their hands dirty.
Twack.
Sion slammed a fist into the ground, teeth clenched.
Dammit… no matter how hard I try, I can't match even one of his attacks!
And what spell is that, anyway?! His eyes narrowed on Leopold. It's not Ignis Rooks… Did he modify it? Shape it into something stronger? To suit him better?
Tch.
Clicking his tongue in annoyance, Sion slowly rose to his feet, gripping his shoulder, jaw set with determination.
"Again," he said flatly.
But Leopold shook his head. "No."
Sion twitched, scowling. "And why not?!"
Leopold gave him a calm once-over. "You're out of mana. All that awaits you now is another beating. Recover your energy first. Then we'll resume."
Sion clenched his fists. "I can keep going!"
Leopold raised a brow as the fire mage forced his buckling knees to straighten.
"If it were him, he wouldn't give up! So please, Mr. Vermillion—!"
Leopold paused for a moment, then sighed and shook his head. "My verdict still stands. Now rest."
Sion looked like he was about to protest again, but Leopold's expression hardened.
"My orders were to monitor you. Not to indulge you, like I've been doing this entire week."
He folded his arms.
"I'm under no obligation to spar with you, nor assist in your training. I'm a busy man, Mr. Ulster. I have other duties I should be handling. In fact, I should be using you to help me with those—not the other way around."
He gave him a dry glance.
"So unless you're eager to deal with a mountain of Lord Cariott's leftover paperwork… rest."
Sion hesitated, then finally slumped to the floor, giving a sheepish nod.
"Sorry, Mr. Vermillion… I just hate losing."
Leopold leaned back against the wall, arms crossed with a sigh. "We all do."
Sion exhaled, catching his breath. "I guess it was a bit presumptuous of me… asking the faction's number three to be my sparring partner."
For the first time since they met, Sion saw a faint smile tug at Leopold's usually impassive face. He even let out a low chuckle.
"Well, I did the same thing when I joined. Challenged Sir Logwell right away. So you're hardly an exception."
Sion blinked in surprise, then grinned.
"Then, after I beat you, I'll challenge the number two next."
Leopold's smile faded as he looked down at him.
"Then I'm afraid you'll be disappointed."
"Huh?" Sion tilted his head. "Why?"
Leopold casually pointed to himself. "Because I'm stronger than Sir Logwell."
Sion froze.
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
Fifth Stratum: Elleaf Canaan
Outside the main headquarters of the Fairy Faction stretched a vast, boundless field of green, fringed with forest. The Elves' fantasy magic had shaped it to resemble Alfswood, their kingdom, and even somewhat like their old world.
Wignall sat quietly on a flat cliff overlooking a gentle stream. Two figures flanked him—Sylor and Selia Silvamillion—leaning into one another.
Sylor had arrived five days ago from the Wind Faction to visit his sister. Masters Filvis and Lefiya had encouraged Wignall to spend time with them, for reasons he couldn't quite grasp.
Maybe they meant Selia in particular… and Sylor just came along for the ride.
That made some sense. They were both new recruits.
For the elves, who rarely receive new members, it was normal for them to want their rookies to be well acquainted with one another.
So, there was no reason to refuse. And neither sibling asked him to leave, nor did they seem bothered by his company. So he stayed.
And truthfully? He found their presence soothing.
Unlike the highborne elves he'd grown up around—those who wore disdain like perfume—Sylor and Selia carried no air of superiority. No stares, no sneers.
Selia had been reserved at first. But after a few hours of conversation, she began to open up. Now she even smiled at his jokes.
Sylor, on the other hand, remained quiet. But not distant.
Wignall had realized he was simply introverted. Sylor spoke more through subtle gestures—tilts of the head, soft nods—than words.
Clansmen, Wignall mused. That's what they are… and I actually enjoy their company.
Their days passed in easy rhythm.
Sometimes they talked.
Sometimes they sat in comfortable silence.
Sometimes they shared meals indoors, or had small, unplanned picnics under the shade of the trees.
Just being here—among them, with the wind brushing through the grass and the stream murmuring below—felt like a kind of healing.
If he could spend the rest of his days like this, Wignall thought, that would be a blessing.
And yet, watching the siblings' closeness made his heart ache a little.
If only things could return to how they were with Ellenor… back when we used to run through fields like these, wild and carefree.
But he knew that girl no longer existed.
Ellenor was now the Elven Princess. The unofficial queen of their people. A Magia Vander of terrifying grace and power.
And he… he was still just Wignall.
After the next Bloom, I'll have to give it everything I've got. Climb to the top of the tower, become an Ascendant. Only then… maybe then, I'll be able to stand beside her again.
But even so… things could never be the same.
Because now we're no longer children who were free to play and explore the woods, but rather people with responsibilities—to protect our world.
Noticing his frown from the corner of her eye, Selia raised a brow.
"Something wrong, Wignall—senpai? You look glum."
Wignall stiffened, then forced a nervous smile.
"N-no, nothing at all."
He scratched his cheek sheepishly.
"A-and like I said, I'm hardly a senpai to you. We're the same rank."
Selia leaned away from her brother, lips curling into a playful smile. "But you're older than me."
Both in elf and human years.
"So you're my senior!"
Wignall looked flustered, unsure how to respond. Before he could say anything, Selia patted his shoulder.
"Come on, you can tell us what's wrong. We're all friends here."
She glanced over her shoulder. "Isn't that right, Big Brother?"
"Hmm." Sylor gave a short, stoic nod.
Wignall's eyes twitched.
But seeing Selia's expectant gaze, he couldn't bring himself to brush her off.
He sighed, shoulders slumping, fingers nervously twisting in his lap. His eyes dropped to the grass as he murmured,
"I-it's just…"
"Just?" Selia prompted gently.
Hah…
Wignall let out a weak laugh, slowly raising his gaze to meet theirs.
"It's just that... I worked so hard—despite all the disgust, all the rejection from our people—just to see Ellenor again."
Pat.
Selia tapped his shoulder once more, smiling brightly. "And you did! You reunited with Big Sis Ellenor!"
Wignall's eye twitched again.
Big Sis, huh?
He sighed.
"Not really. Aside from a passing glance, she hasn't looked at me once since I arrived at the base. Not one of my requests to meet with her has been accepted…"
His voice lowered.
"We were siblings once. Now we're just strangers."
He bit his lip.
"I-I wasn't expecting some grand reunion, but not even a single conversation…?"
"I thought we could at least be on speaking terms again. But she treats me like any other elf. Maybe even worse."
"At least they get to see her face sometimes…"
He shook his head, voice tight.
"But I get… nothing."
A bitter laugh slipped out.
"What was the point of giving me hope if she never intended to speak to me again?"
"Couldn't she have just told me to stop dreaming? Instead of letting me waste years chasing a chance to see her?"
His hand gripped his left arm. The pain was long past… yet the echo still lingered.
"False hope is more cruel than cutting off a limb."
"…"
Selia went quiet, unsure how to respond—how to console her new friend.
She wanted to tell him he was wrong. That Ellenor Ljos Alf wasn't like that.
That she was still the kind, gentle girl from his memories… even if she seemed different now.
Because now, she had to act in ways befitting her high station—princess, Magia Vander, future queen.
But Selia didn't say any of that.
Because she could already see the response in Wignall's eyes: How can you be so sure?
And she had no answer.
Surprisingly, it was her brother who broke the silence.
"I don't think you need to worry about that."
"Hmm?" Wignall and Selia turned toward him in unison.
"What do you mean, Big Brother?" Selia leaned forward, brow raised.
Sylor didn't look at her. His gaze settled on Wignall instead.
"Back at the academy, more than once, my chief considered recruiting you. He even sent scouts down personally."
Wignall blinked.
"S-scout me?"
The Wind Chief himself was interested in me? That's impossible!
He shook his head, baffled. "But I never got any offers from the Wind Faction."
Sylor exhaled quietly.
"That's because every attempt—without exception—was blocked. Interfered with."
Wignall's brows shot up.
"By who?!"
Who could be so bold as to meddle in a faction's scouting?
Sylor answered with the same calm tone.
"Elleaf Canaan."
Wignall froze.
Sylor continued, unmoved.
"Eventually, she'd had enough of my chief's persistence. She barged into his office uninvited and slammed both hands on his desk in fury."
For the first time since meeting him, Sylor's lips twitched—as if recalling something vaguely amusing. It caught both Wignall and Selia off guard.
"She said, and I quote: 'Hands off, you thief! Wignall Lindor is mine!'"
His face settled back into its usual coolness.
"That was a little over a year ago. After that, the chief gave up completely."
For a moment, there was silence.
Then Selia suddenly threw her arms around Sylor, eyes sparkling.
"Big Brother, you just smiled!"
Sylor denied it flatly. "You're imagining it."
Selia laughed, shaking her head. "No I'm not! Come on, do it again so I can record it!"
"…"
Sylor stared forward, completely ignoring her.
Meanwhile, Wignall sat frozen in place.
Ellenor did that? For me?
He couldn't believe it. Not entirely.
But slowly, his expression began to soften.
I see. You're playing hard to get… but you're still my little sister.
Without warning, Sylor stood and gently peeled Selia off of him, startling them both.
He gave them his usual unreadable stare.
"It's getting late, and tomorrow morning is the Bloom. I have things to do. So I'll be leaving now."
Selia froze. Then she pouted, grabbing at his sleeve.
"Come on, Big Brother! Can't you stay just a little longer?!"
Sylor shook his head.
"I've overstayed my welcome."
Selia looked like she might cry. She hadn't seen him in so long, and parting again so soon felt unfair.
But then Sylor sighed.
His features softened slightly as he reached out, ruffling her hair.
"Don't cry, Selia. I can't stay long, but the Chief has given you permission to visit our base whenever you like."
She paused, blinking.
"R-really?! Mr. Yuno did?!"
Sylor nodded.
"Yay!"
Selia's smile bloomed like a flower as she hugged him tightly again, burying her face into his chest.
"I promise—I'll be good!"
Sylor's lip twitched faintly in amusement. Then he turned toward Wignall.
"You can visit as well. The Fairy Faction may be the most elementally diverse outside of the Colorless, but if you're serious about wind magic, you can come see me. I'll offer some guidance."
Wignall, still touched by the earlier revelation, bowed respectfully.
"Thank you, Sir Sylor. How can I ever repay you?"
Sylor waved him off and gently pried Selia from his waist again.
"Just look after my sister for me."
"Will do!" Wignall responded with a nod.
Without another word, the quiet half-elf turned and walked toward the floor exit.
Selia and Wignall followed behind—partly to see him off, partly to head inside.
It was nearly dinner time, anyway.
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
Fourth Stratum:Thunder Faction
"Good to see you're not a complete disappointment, Owenzaus!"
"T-thank you, Sir Guilford."
Lihanna panted, back hunched and drenched in sweat. She was close to hurling.
But she didn't.
After six cruel days of struggling, she had finally finished her laps—without puking. She wasn't about to ruin it now. Even if the bile disgusted her, she clamped her throat shut and forced it back down.
Guilford Zurgas crossed his arms. For the first time, a look of approval flickered across his face.
"This is only to be expected. Anyone Lord Zeo selects should be the cream of the crop... or that's what I would've said, if it weren't for these wastes!"
He spun around, face darkening as he stomped toward two collapsed mages—nameless runts from Lihanna's cohort.
Without hesitation, Guilford slammed his boots into their stomachs.
Thump.
They nearly coughed up blood, spit, and what little breakfast they had left.
"Get up, you trash!" he barked. "You've had nearly a full week to acclimate to our faction's regimen, and you still can't finish a measly three hundred laps in a day?!"
"Augh..."
The boys groaned, but couldn't rise.
Guilford pointed to the track. "Get moving, or strip off those garbs! You disgrace this faction—and Great Mage Zeo—with your failures!"
They clutched their stomachs, faces pale, and dragged themselves back toward the track.
Guilford snorted, arms crossed again. "And no dinner for you!"
They didn't argue. They weren't hungry anyway.
Neither was Lihanna.
The thought of food alone nearly made her puke.
A few of the Thunder Faction mages, already long finished with their laps, passed by her mid-stretch. They looked relaxed—bored, even.
Some gave her subtle nods of acknowledgment.
"At least this crop wasn't a complete failure."
"Yeah, last year's didn't even last three days."
"Not bad, Owenzaus."
"Don't get cocky, junior. Until you can keep up with us, I won't acknowledge you."
Lihanna forced herself upright and gave a respectful nod. Despite everything, she felt... moved.
"Have a good night, seniors."
For the first time, it felt like she was being accepted—just a little—by this torturous faction.
Fwip.
An arm suddenly wrapped around her neck. She jolted—then relaxed at the familiar face.
"Anna-senpai?"
Annalie Theralde beamed. "See? What did I tell you?"
Lihanna nodded. "I regret even doubting you for a second. Once I figured out how to pace myself and manage my power in short bursts, it got way easier."
Anna chuckled. "Of course! I'd never steer a junior wrong. Next, I'll teach you how to find your perfect pace, so you can use magic the whole time without burning out. Saves a ton of time and stamina!"
Lihanna smiled, grateful—and a bit envious. "When can I be like you? Sprinting the whole time and barely sweating?"
Anna paused, then snorted. "One day, girl. One day. Now let's hit the showers and grab some grub before Guilford sees us and makes us clean the yard."
Rumble.
Lihanna's stomach growled in protest. She groaned. "I don't want to eat."
Anna gave her a consoling pat on the back. "Even if you feel like throwing up, force it down. You need to recover those muscles and replace what you lost."
Lihanna clutched her belly.
I'm going to have another date with the toilet tonight instead of getting any sleep.
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
Third Stratum:Albis Vina
"Sarissa?"
"Yes, Lady Elfaria?"
"Do you feel troubled?"
Sarissa didn't even glance up from the stack of papers she was organizing.
"By your laziness and adamant refusal to do any of your paperwork, leaving most menial tasks and grunt work to me? Yes, every day."
Elfaria pouted. "That's not what I mean…"
"Then what is, Elfaria-sama?"
Elfaria lay sprawled across a plush white chaise, her icy hair draped over the side like a discarded curtain.
"I just have a bad feeling."
"In what sense?"
She stared up at the painted ceiling, fingers fidgeting with the quill she hadn't used all morning.
"That tomorrow's going to be a bad day!"
"You don't believe Will Serfort will pass?"
"No! Will will definitely succeed!"
Sarissa raised an eyebrow, finally looking over. "Then what?"
"I don't know… I just feel like I won't enjoy what'll happen tomorrow."
Sarissa sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.
"...Stop lazing around and start signing these documents. I looked over them for you."
Elfaria groaned and rolled onto her side, clutching a pillow dramatically.
...I don't want to!
"Stop complaining! I did all the work, now I just need your signature."
Wooh…
Elfaria Albis Serfor began to cry—loud, exaggerated sobs—as she dragged herself toward the desk, quill in hand like it weighed a thousand tons.
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
Second Stratum:Grantina L'Abysse
"Out of the way, Rose!"
"Why, Colette?"
"Because you've kept me cooped up in this room for an entire week!"
Rose stood in front of the door, arms folded. Colette's voice bounced off the marble walls, sharp and rising.
"You said you'd humor me," Rose said calmly.
"I didn't mean let you cage me! You've gone too far!"
"This is for your own good."
"How?!"
"The outside world is too dangerous!"
"We're in the tower!"
"Exactly," Rose snapped. "The most dangerous place of them all!"
Colette threw her hands up and nearly pulled at her own hair. Her boots scuffed loudly across the polished floor as she marched forward.
"Rose!"
"I'm sorry, Colette, but there are too many creeps on this floor!"
"...You mean the dark faction?"
...Partly. Rose's gaze dropped to the side. "But I was talking about those disgusting old men in our faction."
Colette blinked. "Hey! Your grandpa's among them. That's rude!"
"It's true!"
"I—I don't care!" she snapped, pacing in a tight circle. "I need some fresh air!"
"There is no fresh air," Rose said, voice flat. "We're in the tower. It's all simulated."
"You know what I mean, Rose! Now move!"
But Rose didn't budge. Her tone softened.
"Colette, the Bloom is tomorrow."
"...Yeah. What of it?"
Rose exhaled slowly, her stern mask slipping.
"Then this is the last time. I won't stop you after that." She reached out gently. "Come on. Let's go to your wardrobe and get you a bit dolled up for your boyfriend to see. Okay?"
"H-he's not my boyfriend!"
Colette squeaked, face burning pink, but her feet hesitated. When Rose tugged her along, she didn't resist.
Together, they stepped into the ornate walk-in closet—a lavish space filled with soft lantern light and racks of elegant silk and lace, untouched all week.
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
Second Stratum: Solphis Neamhain
"So, Emma, tell me about yourself."
Emma tilted her head, eyes narrowing slightly. "Hmm. What do you want to know, Ms. Monica?"
"Anything," Monica said with an easy smile. "Your likes, your dislikes, your story. What motivates you to become a mage and climb the tower?"
"Motivates me?"
"Yes. Like any goal or dream. Maybe some regret you wish to atone for. Anything."
...Some personal trauma preferably.
Emma Clever raised a brow, confused. The tone had shifted—strangely intimate, even invasive. And she didn't like it.
"Um, Ms. Monica?"
"Yes?"
"That's a bit—"
"What are you two doing here?"
Both froze.
They turned to see a figure emerging from the corridor's dim light, footsteps sharp against the polished stone.
Emma exhaled, relieved.
Monica Orphan straightened at once.
"Chief!"
"Chief…"
They greeted him, voices laced with very different energies.
Yuno Grinberryall barely reacted, nodding once.
"It's late. If you're not out here for dinner, return to your rooms and rest. Tomorrow's a big day."
"Yes!"
"Yes…"
Again, a clear contrast in tone.
Emma passed him with a polite bow, slipping quietly toward her room.
Monica turned sharply, heading the opposite way, heels clicking in retreat.
Yuno's eyes narrowed just slightly as he watched his subordinate disappear down the hall.
Then, from the silence, a sulking, melodic voice echoed inside his mind.
Augh, Yuno my darling, when are you going to kill that bitch?
He whispered back, lips barely moving.
"Soon… Probably."
Without another word, Yuno turned and vanished into the quiet of his quarters.
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
Second Stratum:Tenebrias Noctane
Fwip.
Edward Serfence sat alone in the dimly lit manor's living room, the air thick with dust and the scent of old wood. He flipped through a slender novel, relaxed in posture, unmoved by the cold draft that threaded between the stone walls.
Then he looked up.
Someone was suddenly seated across from him—silent, like they'd been there all along.
"What?" Edward asked flatly, voice calm but razor-edged.
"Word got out about the stunt you pulled on the first floor," the hooded figure said, tone casual, almost amused.
"So?"
"Kreutz tried to have Walther hand you over."
"Obviously that didn't work."
"Obviously." The figure gave a slow nod. "But not because Walther cares about you. He just doesn't like anyone trying to exert authority over him."
Edward's eyes narrowed slightly. "What's your point?"
"My point is… even so, he might give in if you become a repetitive headache."
"I don't care."
"You should." The figure shook his head. "After all, you've made a deal with me."
Edward cocked his head. "I'm not sure I did."
The figure paused, his lips curling into a crescent-shaped smile.
"What do you mean?"
Edward tapped his fingers against his chin. "I mean… the one I talked to in that alley, and the one who was in that room… they felt a bit different."
The smile didn't waver.
"Smart and observant people are both a joy and a headache to work with."
Then he slipped into the shadows beneath his chair—his form vanishing like a mirage—leaving only a faint echo drifting into Edward's ear.
"You've never been an overly affectionate person, Edward Serfence. So don't start now. Just keep to yourself, and remain available for when it's time to act."
"..."
Edward stared at the empty seat for a moment.
Then, with a soft breath, he turned the page.
Fwip.
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
First Stratum:Fields of Solitude
"Argenta."
"Argenta…"
"Argenta...!"
"ARGENTA HIVERNELLE!"
Thud.
"Bwah?!" Argenta twitched awake just in time to slip off the branch of the giant oak and crash onto the grass below.
"Owie!"
She sat up, rubbing her backside with exaggerated tears in her eyes. Then she looked up.
A black-haired man stood over her, holding a box.
"F-Fumihito?! How could you?!"
Fumihito Mikuriya raised a hand to his lips with a sigh.
"It's Théo Coqus, in the tower. Mind your words, Argenta."
"Hmph. I won't respond to anything but my real name when it's just us," she said, arms crossed.
Fumihito gave her a dry look. "Argenta, stop acting like a child."
Hmph! She snorted again, snatching her disguised sword—which appeared as a wand—and hugged it tightly.
"I hate that name!"
Fumihito sighed. "Kezōkaku-san, can you please calm down?"
Kezōkaku Ginnojōmorifuyu settled, if only a little, her arms still crossed and a pout lingering on her lips.
"Why'd you wake me up?"
He tilted his chin toward the black sky.
"Were you planning to sleep out here all night? And I haven't seen you in days. Just look at yourself… you stink. When was the last time you had a shower?!"
Kezōkaku flushed and fidgeted.
"I-I, uh..." Her gaze dropped, and her voice shrank. "I kinda got into a fight, and now I'm too scared to go back to Colorless Garden."
Rumble.
Her stomach growled.
"I haven't even b-been able to eat anything..."
Fumihito nodded, unimpressed.
"I can imagine. Some very angry people haven't stopped bothering me the past few days, asking where you were."
Kezōkaku winced. "S-sorry..."
Fumihito sighed and gave a polite shrug—understanding, as always.
"Don't mention it… but enough about me."
His expression darkened as he looked at her.
"Don't you think it's time to stop leaving Albis Vina waiting? You could put an end to all this abuse—and your shameless lifestyle—by joining the Ice Faction."
Kezōkaku stiffened, then turned her face away.
"I-I don't want to. I'd rather eat and sleep and do nothing..."
Fumihito frowned.
"Although you've always been a coward… unless you had your sword drawn, you were never this lazy. So what changed? And avoiding a faction isn't an excuse. The Ice Faction has always been the least active in the tower."
"You could probably live even more comfortably up there!"
Kezōkaku's fingers clenched around the handle of her wand.
"It's just..."
"Just what?"
Slowly, she met Fumihito's eyes.
He froze.
They were red. Teary.
Then she snapped.
"I just don't like her!"
Fumihito blinked. "What?"
"You heard me!" Kezōkaku hissed. "S-she has so much power, so much talent... and all she does is laze around! I heard she spends most of her days naked on her bed, only getting up to stalk some boy!"
She began pacing around the tree, wringing her hands in anguish.
"I-I refuse to serve someone like that! Ryu… was everything she's not! He didn't hesitate to give up his power for our people. And even after that, he was still amazing! Working without his magic, to earn everyone's recognition, unite our war-torn country, and bring smiles back to the Land of the Rising Sun!"
"A-and then he died so honourably, giving us a way out!"
Tears poured down her cheeks.
"With such an incredible lord, how can I tolerate serving such… such a waste?!"
Fumihito stood still. His eyes began to redden, his features softening.
He spoke gently.
"Still. Appearances can be deceiving. I hear she's a good girl—"
"She's not Ryu!"
"No one is!" Fumihito shot back, surprising them both. He exhaled, gaze lowering.
"Sorry, Kezōkaku-san… it's just that I don't think Ryu would want you to live like this."
Kezōkaku trembled, then dropped to a crouch. She buried her face in her knees, shoulders shaking.
"I-I just don't get this... How can all of you move on so easily? It's like I'm the only one who misses him!"
"We all do..."
"But it doesn't feel like it," Kezōkaku countered, looking up through blurry eyes. "I-It's shameful for a samurai to switch lords. It goes against our Bushido. W-we should've died with him."
"Those were his orders."
"Then maybe I should've defied him… just that once," Kezōkaku whispered, standing slowly.
She met Fumihito's gaze again.
"If I must take a new lord or lady... I refuse it to be Albis Vina."
Fumihito sighed.
Then he smiled.
"Then how about, instead of submitting to someone new, you just join some old friends... for a little play?"
Kezōkaku stilled, brow raised.
"What's in the box?"
Fumihito chuckled. "A package. From Ms. Vanessa."
"Vanessa?" Kezōkaku blinked in surprise.
There were only two times she ever felt truly confident in life—when swinging her sword or drinking.
She and Vanessa had clicked instantly. Since their first meeting, they'd gotten along effortlessly.
Once a year, she'd sneak out to Terralis just to drink herself unconscious with her old buddy.
Fumihito nodded, then turned to walk away.
"Now follow me."
"T-to where?" Kezōkaku asked, hurrying after him.
"To my dorm. First, you're going to take a shower, clean yourself up, eat something, and look presentable... and then we're going to pick someone up."
"W-who?!"
"Our new junior. I believe you've already met."
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
9th of Carnsmoon
First Stratum:Secret Base for Single Witches
Huff.
Huff.
Huff.
Julius, wearing a soaked training robe, slumped over the marble floor, panting as he looked up at the beautiful witch standing over him—completely unbothered.
Ceridwen pressed her wand to her lips, giving him a playful wink.
"How was that, Mr. Reinburg? What did I tell you? Big Sis Ceridwen is strong, right?"
Huff.
Tch.
Julius clicked his tongue, panting harder.
Strong didn't even begin to cover it.
The past few days had been nothing but beatdowns. Over and over again.
All he'd learned was just how weak he really was—and how arrogant.
It would've been one thing if he'd lost to a Vander. But this? This was a reminder that his dream wasn't just far—it was slipping further with every humiliating defeat.
He clenched his fists.
What was that Flunkee thinking?We won't lose?Bullshit.I just got manhandled… and he's still asleep like nothing's happening!
Ceridwen chuckled as if hearing his thoughts. She turned, strolling over to Will's bedside and plopped into a chair, opening a thick book.
Fwip.
She began flipping through pages, calm as ever—like the fight just now hadn't even happened.
It made Julius seethe.
Twip.
He grabbed a towel, wiping sweat off with a hiss, then stepped forward.
"Hey! What's going on with him, anyway? He's been unconscious for the past five days! No signs of waking up!"
He jabbed a finger toward the bed.
"The Bloom is just a few hours away!"
Ceridwen glanced over her shoulder, smiling.
"He's somewhere time flows differently. Hours out here might only be seconds for him."
Julius's jaw tightened. "Where?"
She turned her gaze back to the slumbering swordsman.
"He's diving. Into his dreams."
"I used my magic to send him back. A catalyst—to return him to an important time in his past. A forgotten memory he's working to reclaim."
Fssh.
Julius blew an icy breeze through his hair, cleansing it of the odor. He stepped closer, arms spread.
"Dreams?Past?Memories? Remembering all that's supposed to help him unlock this new power? This… charge of feelings, or whatever you called it?"
Ceridwen looked solemn for a moment—then stuck out her tongue.
Blip!
"Well, I'm not quite sure it'll work! The sword's under Finn's jurisdiction, after all."
Ptam.
Coincidentally or not, she shut the book just as Julius got close enough to peek at the pages.
Distracted, he didn't notice her strange gesture as he sweatdropped.
"Seriously?!"
He stepped up beside her.
"If that's the case, stop wasting his time and call the dwarf over to guide him. His dream's riding on this, you know?"
Ceridwen sighed softly, lowering her hand onto Will's bare chest.
Julius opened his mouth, ready to call her a pervert—
But he hesitated.
Her expression made him double-take.
There was something sad in her face. Or maybe wistful.
"Trust me," she said, "few know what he's been through more than me. But I'm afraid I can't do that, Julius."
"Why?" he asked gently.
"…It's not that I intend to criticize Finn's methods. He always gets results…"
She looked down again, voice quieter.
"It's just that, knowing who this boy really is—as a person, not some weapon—I believe that if we're going to stand against the heavens, we'll need a different approach."
Julius stilled.
"What are you saying…? Just what is Wis? What is a Sword? …And who is Will Serfort?"
Ceridwen didn't respond. She wasn't even looking at him. Her focus stayed on the sleeping boy as she whispered absently.
"History is buried within your body, Will. The tracks made by wand and sword constantly intersect, to weave a grand tale."
"Trace them all the way back to your origins. And then, if possible… I hope that someday, you may reach the source of it all—bzzt!"
Hmm?
Ceridwen cocked her head, eyes narrowing slightly as her maser floated beside her.
She scanned the message, then let out a slow sigh.
Turning to Julius, she gave a firm nod.
"This is the moment, Mr. Reinburg. It's time to choose."
Julius froze. He tried to play dumb, lips tightening.
He was still on the fence. Still shaken up. He didn't want to think about it.
But Ceridwen wouldn't let him.
She smiled softly.
"Remember our conversation from before?"
The ice mage lowered his gaze, her words from four nights ago echoing through his mind.
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
5th of Carnsmoon:
"Julius, you're using Will to get close to Elfaria, right?"
"…Are you about to judge me?"
"No. That's completely normal. And unlike most sneaky types, at least you've been transparent with your goal."
"…Not particularly willingly."
"Still better than most. But that's not the point."
"Then what is?"
"Well… first off, I want to ask you—why are you so adamant about joining Albis Vina?"
"Huh? Because I'm an ice mage, of course."
"Let me rephrase that. Why are you so adamant on following and getting close to Albis Vina herself?"
"…Because I want to be her successor…"
"Okay. But why?"
"W-what do you mean why? It's everyone's dream to succeed a Vander!"
"That's true."
"But…?"
"But I think you've forgotten who Albis Vina is, in your obsession to take her place."
"…What do you mean?"
The dim lamplight bathed the room in a soft gold glow, flickering gently against the stone walls. Will lay still beside them, the rise and fall of his chest barely noticeable beneath the sheets. Ceridwen rested her hands in her lap, voice low but steady.
"Part of it is our fault, really. Adults. We keep putting the Vandra on pedestals. We turn them into gods in your textbooks. Mythologize them until you can't help but adore them."
"But…?"
"But at the end of the day, Elfaria is just a girl—a girl your age. Unless something unthinkably tragic happens, she's not going anywhere."
"…Oh."
"Exactly." Ceridwen nodded toward the sleeping boy. "She might seem lazy, but even she has a dream. One that'll keep her chained to the top of this tower for as long as the false sky still lingers."
Her voice dropped, a quiet intensity sharpening the words.
"She's the greatest prodigy in magical history, and she's just getting started. She'll only grow stronger. She'll probably outlive all of us. You really think she'll pass down her seat anytime soon?"
Julius frowned. "So what are you trying to say?!"
"I'm saying—if your plan is to get close, make her fall for you, get her to adopt you as her personal disciple and pass all her spells on to you out of affection…"
Ceridwen let out a dry laugh.
"…You might as well pack your things and return to the academy. I'll offer you a job as a professor, because that plan is never going to work."
"T-then what am I supposed to do?! I-I refuse to give up on my dream! It's everything I've worked for!"
Ceridwen leaned in slightly, her gaze sharp as ice.
"And that's exactly why, instead of trying to succeed Elfaria, you need to walk your own path. Let go of your obsession with becoming her. Or another Albis Vina."
She tapped his chest lightly.
"Surpass her."
"S-surpass?!"
Surpass Albis Vina?! Is that even possible?
Ceridwen could read the doubt flooding his mind.
"Not if you try to be her," she said. "Only by finding your path—your own kind of magic—will this even be possible."
She straightened, expression unreadable.
"Take her seat from her. Don't wait nor expect for her to give it to you because of helping out some silly crush."
"B-but how?!"
Ceridwen glanced toward Will, her voice quieting as if not to disturb his rest.
"And that brings us to an opportunity I have for you."
She looked back to Julius, her eyes gleaming with certainty.
"Let me tell you about something that's going to shake this stagnated tower to its roots."
"…I'm listening."
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
Present
Julius bit his lip as Ceridwen looked at him expectantly. After a long breath, he straightened his back and gave a sharp nod.
"I'm the great Julius Reinburg! Even if it's Lady Elfaria, even if it kills me, I'll become the best of the best and surpass her too! I accept your offer, witch!"
Ceridwen smiled, clearly pleased.
"I expected as much from you. I won't say you won't regret it at all—but I can promise you'll be surprised where this path takes you."
Julius snorted.
Ceridwen pointed toward his folded Colorless Garbs. "Put those back on. Your seniors will be arriving to pick you up soon."
He blinked in surprise but didn't argue. "Okay."
As he tugged the robe back over his shoulders, Ceridwen raised her wand and pointed it at him.
Fwhmp.
Levitation magic lifted him clean off the ground.
"H-hey?!"
Ceridwen chuckled.
"No need to hesitate any longer, Julius." She gestured to the far wall—the same brick surface they had entered through earlier.
Vrm.
The bricks groaned as they separated, opening a narrow exit flooded with white light. Beyond it, Julius could barely make out two black silhouettes waiting in silence.
He hesitated.
Ceridwen gave him a small shake of the head.
"Even if you don't trust me, trust your friend. He'll join you soon."
"Dammit…"
Julius clenched his teeth, then shouted over his shoulder.
"Oi, sleeping beauty! You hear me?! You better not have wasted my week by failing! If I don't see you there, I'll come back and kick your ass!"
"Heh. Heh."
Ceridwen laughed softly—then tossed him through the glowing entrance.
"Dammit! Be gentler, you perverted witch—vrm!"
The wall sealed shut behind him, the bricks stitching together like nothing had ever opened.
Ceridwen turned quietly and made her way back to Will's bedside. She picked up the book she'd been reading.
Fwip.
Fwip.
A picture book.
She paused at one particular page, and a fond smile slowly crept across her face.
A warrior stood with a sword over his back, gazing out over a golden sunset.
A warrior who shared a dream—With a certain No-Talent.
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
Will Serfort:
I looked down at my body—my hands, my feet—They're smaller.
Of course they are. I'm younger here. The only question is… how much younger?
And then I turned.
Elfaria was right there, smiling bright, her cheeks flushed pink as she looked at me.
"What's wrong, Will?" she asked.
Elfie's little, too… Her voice, her size—it was like I'd stepped right into the good old days.
I glanced up, taking in the trees towering above us, the dappled light from the great barrier bleeding through the canopy in soft gold.
This really is my past…
But no. Time travel? That's impossible. Not even the Headmistress could pull something like that off.
She must've sent me back to this memory. But why? What does she expect me to find here—?
"Will!"
Elfaria's voice snapped me out of it.
"H-huh?!"
I yelped as she stomped over, puffing her cheeks. And then—Thump.
She crashed straight into me.
"Look at me!!"
"Waah?!"
I staggered, nearly losing balance as she buried her face in my chest.
Resting her chin there, she tilted her head up, eyes sparkling with exaggerated tears.
"Darn it, Will! You were thinking about another girl, weren't you?!"
"What?! No!" I shook my head, flustered.
But she didn't let go. Instead, her arms locked around my back. My face started to warm up for reasons I couldn't explain.
"You're always spoiling Claire and the other girls at the orphanage!"
"No—I'm just trying to help Father! We were both taking care of the little ones…"
I paused. Now that I think about it… how are those kids doing, anyway?
"There you go again!" Elfaria snapped. "You're not allowed to think about any girl but me, you cheater!"
I blinked, completely lost for words.
Wow. Elfie really was this clingy back then, huh? Maybe even more than now.
I sweatdropped and held out my hands in surrender.
"Oh, Elfie… What can I do to earn your forgiveness?"
Her face turned redder. "Give me a hug!" she barked.
Mine probably did too.
Still, I gave in. I wrapped my arms around her and gently patted her head, just like I used to.
She went stiff for a moment—then suddenly bounced with joy, hugging me tighter.
"Yay! A pat too? Keep going!"
"Okay, okay…" I chuckled.
"Tee hee hee!" she giggled like a child.
She is a child.
I looked down at her. My expression softened without me realizing.
Was she in love with me… even back then?
This is all so familiar.
I remember doing stuff like this all the time whenever she got moody.
Elfaria slipped out of my arms so suddenly I barely had time to react.
She grabbed my hand instead, fingers warm and certain, and began dragging me deeper into the woods.
With her free hand, she pumped a fist toward the sky.
"Now that I'm full of Will—Power—it's time to go slay the beast!"
I blinked, confused.
"E-Elfie? Slay what beast?!"
She looked back at me over her shoulder, her smile so wide and carefree it felt like nothing in the world could touch her.
"There's supposed to be some weird beast in the forest," she said, matter-of-factly. "I heard Father doesn't like it being here. So we're gonna get rid of it for him!"
It's the job of the eldest siblings to assist their parents.
Her words hit something deep.
"What?! But that's not safe!" I panicked.
Then I looked down, my voice cracking into something small.
"Y-you can do amazing things, Elfie… But I can't even use a speck of magic…"
My heart stung the moment I said it.
?!
That... wasn't what I meant to say.
The words just spilled out of me—unfiltered, automatic.
That self-pitying version of me, the one who moped and doubted, that wasn't me anymore.
I'd buried that Will a long time ago.
And slowly, it clicked.
All this time… I wasn't really choosing to act this way. Everything I did—every word, every step—just flowed out like a stream I couldn't steer.
This was a memory.
I wasn't living it. I was reliving it. Watching it unfold from inside, stuck in the shell of a younger self.
Like a recording.
And just like back then, Elfie turned to me with a beaming grin.
"That's okay! I brought our favorite book!"
It was only then that I noticed she was carrying both a wand and a worn little book against her chest. She gave the cover a gentle pat.
"This will give us all the courage we need!" she declared. "It'll woosh right into us!"
I squinted at the cover and nearly laughed.
Adventures of Denma?
That sure took me back.
Elfaria looked up at me, eyes full of sparkly, unshakable confidence.
"Everything's going to be fine! I'll protect you, Will!"
I froze.
That's right.
Back then… I was a coward.
Always relying on Elfie. Always making her do the scary stuff, while I just followed along.
I felt my hand take hers again as she pulled me deeper into the woods.
My smile widened, even though my mind frowned.
When did that change?
When did she start depending on me instead?
But none of that mattered right now.
This was just a memory.
And if we were both fine in the future… then nothing serious would happen here. Right?
Right.
My thoughts slowly drifted into the rhythm of my younger self.
I smiled.
I followed.
There was nothing to worry about.
Elfaria chatted cheerfully as we weaved our way through the woods, leaping over shallow ditches and splintered stumps half-buried under leaves. Birds cawed overhead, their cries sharp and distant.
"There's a fancy place called Rigarden far from here," she said. "Father said there's a war going on there. Some scary people and monsters escaped and came here."
"Really?" my younger self asked.
But inside, I reeled.
A war? Wait—is this during the Great War? Ten years ago?!
That would mean... Elfie and I are about six right now.
She nodded without a hint of worry.
"Uh-huh. The beast in the forest came from Rigarden too. It's been causing all sorts of trouble."
My body responded before I could stop it.
"B-but you can handle it, right, Elfie?"
She puffed out her chest, cheeks blushing with pride.
"You bet I can!"
I narrowed my eyes, deep in thought.
It's all starting to come back. Elfie and I… we did sneak into the woods behind the orphanage around this time.
This conversation really happened. But everything after this… it's a blur.
What exactly—Thump!
Suddenly, Elfaria tackled me hard, slamming both of us into the dirt.
Boom!
A deafening impact erupted just behind where we'd been standing.
We tumbled over the earth in a tangled mess of limbs and leaves.
Groaning, I pushed myself up—And froze.
Standing just beyond the cratered soil was the thing that had tried to ambush us.
I could barely breathe.
That—It was like a werewolf, grotesque and towering, but wrong.
Its left arm was missing. A jagged crystal jutted from its chest—not an injury, but a fixture. Its right eye was cloudy and dead.
A wolf…?
No.
Not a monster. Not even a magical beast.
That thing's not natural. It's a biologically engineered magical weapon.
It looked like it had seen combat. Torn, limping… but still lethal.
How did something like this escape the war zone and end up here…?!
"Graah!!!"
The thing let out a guttural, explosive howl that made the air shake.
I couldn't move.
"Eek?!"
But Elfaria didn't hesitate.
"Stay right there, Will!"
"E-Elfie!" I cried out, stunned, as she stepped in front of me, clutching our old book tight to her chest.
With her other hand, she leveled her wand at the monster.
"Don't worry! I'm gonna take it down!"
She gave a big, daring grin.
"And I'll do it with the awesome spell I came up with!"
Magic arrays began to snap into existence around her—glowing, elegant circles spinning like gears.
"Ars Weiss!"
In a flash, five identical Elfarias burst out from the arrays.
Clones.
Each one landed lightly beside her, perfectly in sync, all grinning with the same mischievous light.
"Me and a bunch of other Mes are gonna beat it black and blue!" they said in chorus.
My jaw dropped.
Even back then… she could multicast Ars Weiss?
What control… Elfie really was amazing.
And yet—Why do I have such a bad feeling about this?
Elfaria couldn't hear my thoughts—Not that it would've mattered.
She and her clones raised their wands in perfect unison, launching a glittering barrage of crystal projectiles through the trees.
Tearis Nono!!
My heart seized.
The beast… it smiled.
The crystal embedded in its chest began to glow with a low, ominous hum.
"Elfie!! Run!!" I shouted—BOOM!
It was too late.
The creature moved—no, it activated—and with a surge of force, every last crystal spell rebounded.
"Hmm… Eek!!" Elfaria yelped, ducking just in time. One shard nearly skewered her between the eyes, whistling past her head as the impact knocked her off her feet.
But her clones weren't so lucky.
Clack.
One by one, they shattered like glass, fragments of frozen magic dissolving midair.
And neither was I.
"Argh!!"
The breath fled from my lungs as one of the rebounding shards slammed into my gut.
Blood burst from my mouth.
The force sent me tumbling across the forest floor, pain lancing through me in waves.
I groaned, coughing as I rolled to a stop.
Even back then… even in this tiny body… I wasn't normal. Injuries like this would've torn through someone else.
For me, it was a bruise. A deep one. But not fatal.
Magic reflection.
That thing was built for it.
That's its core function.
I lifted my gaze and found Elfaria slumped against a tree, trembling.
"Run!! Elfie! Get out of there!!"
But she didn't.
She just sat there, shivering uncontrollably as the monster drew closer.
Her wand trembled in her hand.
"I-I'm… not hurt… I'm not scared…" she whispered, forcing herself to stand. "I-I'll take you down and protect Will!!"
Tears streamed down her cheeks.
And I froze.
This wasn't a dream anymore.
This felt like a nightmare.
I can't move.
Elfie's about to… And it's my fault.
I wanted to scream.
Fuck you! Get a grip and MOVE!
SAVE HER!!
The voice in my head roared louder than the beast's howl.
I refuse to believe even the old me was so much of a coward that he'd just watch Elfie DIE!
You know exactly who you hate the most—The one who always needed her to protect you.
SO GO!!
DO IT!!
Once again, something clicked.
My will and my body—They synced.
The younger me didn't hesitate. He launched forward with everything he had, feet tearing across the forest floor as he roared at the top of his lungs, summoning courage from the pit of his soul.
"Waaah!!"
Boom! Boom! Boom!
The ground shook with each pounding step.
Elfaria, meanwhile, was still firing. Crystal shards burst from her wand one after another, desperate and fierce.
But the creature—It didn't flinch.
Each shard was swatted away, ricocheted back like a cruel joke.
And then—Boom!
Her last spell rebounded with terrifying force.
She dropped her wand.
Eyes wide. Breath frozen.
Death reached out for her—But then she caught a blur from the corner of her eye.
"Huh?!"
Wham!
I threw myself at her, tackling her to the side just as an explosion of icy mist tore through the treeline behind us.
The force blasted everything apart—roots, trunks, leaves shredded in a freezing whirlwind.
"Agh…"
Elfaria moaned softly as we hit the grass.
I hovered over her for just a moment—then went still.
A warm drip touched her cheek.
She looked up.
"Huh…? Will?"
Her eyes caught the color.
Blood.
"Nooo!!!" she screamed, catching me as I collapsed onto her.
"Will! Will?! Wake up!"
But I couldn't answer.
Her voice was far away.
My vision blurred, fading—So this is how I got the scar…
I remembered this moment. The pain. The blacking out.
But what happened next…?
How did we survive? Who saved Elfie?
Who could have…?
Vrm.
Darkness swallowed my sight—Then opened, just for a second.
A familiar face appeared.
A woman cloaked in black.
Her.
The veiled lady from the dungeon praxis.
She stared down at me, and in a whisper that made my soul jolt, she spoke a single word:
"Awaken."
Badump!
My heart lurched.
Fsh!
Steam exploded off my back.
I feel hot!
Tears welled up unbidden.
My flesh is on fire!!
Make it stop!
My whole body's about to explode!!
But I held on.
I saw her—Elfaria—tears flooding her eyes, caught between sorrow and hope.
My body… it's the vessel. It's being reforged… into a sword.
"Will…?" she whispered, trembling as she reached for me.
BOOM!
Energy surged outward from my spine, a shockwave of light and heat.
And slowly—I began to rise.
That's right.
Now I remember.
There was more to this adventure.
I stepped forward, my gaze landing on a stray shard of Elfaria's ice, still glinting in the grass.
Smoke rose faintly from my hand.
And the moment my fingers brushed the shard—The smoke turned cold.
It bloomed into icy mist.
And then, something began to form in my grasp.
A weapon.
This… this is the origin of the sword.
The beginning of Wis.
Silver light crackled up my arm, lacing across my body.
In my hand—A sword, long and lean, curved like a drawn bow, forged entirely from pure enchanted frost.
Fully Charged: Tearis Wis.
I stared at the blade.
Then I turned to the wolf.
It didn't like the look in my eyes.
With a growl, it lunged.
I raised the sword and flicked it through the air—Swish.
The creature's right arm froze mid-motion, encased in solid ice.
It stopped, stunned.
The magic hadn't reflected.
Why?
It snarled, clenched its trembling fist—And shattered the ice.
Then it charged again.
So did I.
It all makes sense now.
Why I felt so confident back at the Terminalia…
It's because I've held this blade before.
This is mine and Elfie's mageblade.
And it's unstoppable.
Zoom!
The monster's claws collided with my sword—then curved around the icy edge, locking us in place.
Zhoom!
The earth cracked beneath our feet.
We shoved, struggled—two bodies locked in raw resistance.
"Hrrng!"
I gritted my teeth, pouring everything my six-year-old body had into that push.
But I wasn't strong enough.
I was losing ground.
Until—"Will!!!"
Elfaria's voice split the air—And suddenly, she was at my side.
She wrapped her small hands over mine, clutching the hilt of the sword we now held together.
Her eyes shimmered with tears.
She nodded.
I stared at her—stunned—then nodded back.
This is Wand and Sword.
"HAAAH!"
We roared in unison—And the sword in our grasp surged with power.
It grew—glowed—blazed with pure magical energy.
BOOM!
A storm of ice burst from the blade's tip.
It ripped through the creature, tearing it apart mid-lunge.
The blast sent us flying backward—Boof.
We landed hard on the grassy field, side by side.
My body went limp.
Darkness was closing in again.
But before I slipped away, I felt her hand reach out—Her fingers brushed my cheek, soft and warm.
And she whispered something that made my lips curve into a weak smile.
"I knew it, Will. You're the most amazing person in the world. You do have magic. And that… was it."
"Thank you, Will… for saving me."
My eyes fluttered closed.
I see now.
This is my source.
My origin story.
A mageblade forged from precious feelings.
I swear… I'll never forget again. Especially not these feelings I share with Elfie.
This is our bond.
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
Present:
Will's eyes snapped open.
Kiki hovered over him.
"Mreow?"
The Carbuncle pawed at his cheek. Will smiled and gently patted it aside.
"I'm okay."
He clenched his fist and stayed quiet for a moment.
Ceridwen smiled at him from her chair. "Did you manage to access the source of the magical energy anchored inside you?"
Will nodded, a soft smile on his face. "...I did."
Ceridwen's smile brightened. "You retraced your life's path. Can you revive it now?"
Another nod. "Anytime."
Will glanced around the room. "Where's Julius?"
Ceridwen chuckled. "He went on ahead of you. He's waiting for you."
"Waiting? For me?" Will blinked, stunned.
Ceridwen gave a playful flick of her wand. His Colorless Gloria floated through the air and dropped into his lap.
"The Second Bloom has already commenced," she said. "So go out there and write the new tale of the mageblade!"
Will froze—then grinned as he pulled on his clothes.
"Yes, Ma'am!!"
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
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