At the heart of the Sea of Trees, Mutuba Village formed an essential part of the Godvildian Empire. Mu Village held a similar rank in terms of importance, despite an otherwise primitive exterior. With spiked wooden fences, the village marked the map of the Empire a few kilometres east from Multana Desert. Ash-skinned and shrivelled, regardless of age, the villagers smelt of blood – combat-strong as Elementalists and Shamans, and production strong as sculptors and enchanters.

“If not for their rigid take on customs and traditions, this place could’ve been a city by now…” thought Laella, objectively. “They’re also very different from the Mu in the Amell family.”

Laella snapped her palms open atop an inscribed stone tablet. She studied the inscriptions and moved her fingers against the air, at a cautious pace. Her temples tremored with focus, and her hips swayed to the motion of her arms. Slowly, she deciphered and replicated the pattern. It sparked for a moment, in front of her, bursting into a brilliant flame. But with caution, Laella eased the shimmer and moved the inscription to a fresh, polished tablet. She pressed the aeter onto the stone surface, engraving the inscriptions without difficulty. She held her breath as the aeter cooled, dousing its red to the colour of the tablet.

“How does this look, Teacher?” asked Laella, wiping the sweat from her forehead.

A shawled Mu compared both tablets and nodded, favourably. “They look good, my child. Good, good! You’re doing good, very good.”

“Thank you!” said Laella, with a smile. “Can we try weapons and armour now?”

The old Mu Enchanter hummed at the suggestion. He reached for the armrest on his chair and took a seat. With a cough, he receded his hood to reveal a wrinkled, ashen face. Eyes without colour, a pointed nose, and marked, blue scars, the Elder Mu wore the appearance of an old, weak man. He coughed again, a little blood this time, and heaved a tired sigh.

“You’re impatient…” the Elder remarked. “An Amell, a talented Nis Amell, why do you wish to even learn this?”

“I do not want to become a one-dimensional presence in this world,” said Laella, honestly. “That is my motivation, my only motivation.”

Laella remembered the day she parted ways with Rollo and Daiden. She hid it from them, her choice to opt out of the trainee quests, to instead pursue the art of enchantment.

“I need to hear more,” urged the Elder, interested now. “Go on. Tell me why I need to share my secrets with you, all of it.”

With an unnerving calm, Laella crackled a spinning aeter-sphere atop her palm. She nudged the core to take the shape of a flame.

“You can feel it, can’t you?” asked Laella, playing with the fire. When her teacher nodded, she continued at an easy pace, “What determines our strength in this world? Influence, yes. But from a crude point of view, most would refer to your aeter potential; your control, efficiency, and volume – they’re all good metrics. But as an Amell, you’re taught to look at the world from a broader perspective…do you know what I think?”

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“Well…am I not about to find out?” said the Elder, laughing out loud with a hoarse voice.

“Your equipment…” simplified Laella. She dispersed the flame and pointed to her attire. “Equipment. Wielders wear armour, Elementalists work with robes, not to mention the variants There are weapons to consider as well. Potential is innate and beyond control, but we can control what we wear and use. When combating someone just as strong as you are in terms of traditional metrics…your equipment, well, that’s the separator.”

The Elder Mu continued to laugh, then more, louder. With a deep breath, he slowly eased his face into a smile, in acknowledgement of his student’s perspective.

“A young child fawns over becoming a great hero, by wielding mighty weapons, or by manipulating the elements,” the Elder said. “Tailors, blacksmiths, sculptors, alchemists, enchanters…they are important, very important. But Laella…you have the option to forge relationships with skilled craftsmen. You’re also an Amell. You have the bloodstones to purchase everything you desire.

“It’s an interesting answer, accurate as well. And yet, I fail to understand why you would want to become one yourself, an Enchanter.”

Laella spat a tired sigh and approached the answer with more honesty this time. “The Amell tailors made these robes. They’re exceptional. But I’m not a tailor. I’m a Nis. I function with aeter. And I can never rely on someone else to enchant my equipment.”

The Elder Mu grunted this time. His face crumpled into a frown. “Are you saying that the Enchanters of the Godvildian Empire fall short of your standards?”

“No!” said Laella, clearly. “Only that I can surpass them all.”

For merely a moment, Laella heard something crack. Her eyes trained onto the armrest, clenched in a fierce grip, and crushed in frustration. She gulped and hesitantly met her teacher’s gaze.

“Ambition…” the Mu said, drawing the word out with emphasis. “I’ll teach you the fundamentals in its entirety, my child. Journey, and then return to me when you think you’re ready to learn more.”

“Thank you!” said Laella, in a stammer. “I will be worthy of your knowledge.”

***

In exhaustion, Daiden collapsed onto his bed, face first, and shifted towards the ceiling. He covered his eyes and flicked his wrist to disperse the light in his room. The moonlight slipped through the half open window, the curtains in a dance. Daiden felt it for the first time since leaving Mutuba Village, the comfort of a bed. He changed clothes lazily and rolled into the blanket.

“Ah, normally, I would be watching TV right about now,” thought Daiden, remembering old habits. “Well, I’ve never felt more exhausted though.”

Daiden rubbed his belly. He noticed it tighten, then his chest and throat. He burped. “Fuck. Talk about being super crass in private! Should I scratch my armpits for fun as well?” He chuckled, and then laughed out loud. “Oh, this is just too much privacy. Bunking with the trainees, not a lot of room to loaf about in that environment.

“But who am I kidding? I only ever talked with Rollo. Should’ve maybe made more friends…or not. Ah, then again, there is Laella.”

With a smile, Daiden turned to the ceiling again and opened his Mioveroldian Page. After a cursory read, he quickly swiped away some basic information and updates from the GCQI.

[Origin of Takshaka (One Chapter)]

“Might as well…” thought Daiden. “Sorry about the wait, dear friend. I’m all yours now.”

[You’ve opened the book – Origin of Takshaka. Your soul is overcome with the memories of Takshaka.]