Jerome dreamed. He dreamed of all that he had experienced as he slept; of his time listening to Rihal speak to him in the slums, training him in combat, and lecturing him of the monsters found in Pilgrims’ Keep. He dreamed of the first flame he created, the first time he wielded metal, earth, and even Sword Force. He dreamed of Blade’s Edge Canyon, of his mistakes and failures, of his friends and siblings, and his hope to one day reunite with them.

He dreamed of his understanding and relationship with Mother Nature; of how words were an important part of his communion with Mother Nature, of how he communicated his sincerity and pledged himself to Mother Nature when Achilles tested him. It was such a weird, vivid dream that felt all too real. He woke up not long after he slept to brood over all he had dreamed about: his comprehension of fire, earth, metal, and sword force. All of them were tied to one entity that birthed them all — Mother Nature.

He brooded over his relationship with Mother Nature. The Sovereign had said Mother Nature is sentient. Does that mean it has intelligence? Does it communicate back as man communicates with it? Maybe 'it' wasn't the right pronoun to be used for Mother Nature. Perhaps 'she' was a better one.

The moment Jerome started perceiving Mother Nature in that light as a sentient, intelligent being capable of thought and interaction, he experienced a sort of acceptance deep inside him — an embrace so to speak. He began to sense his surroundings more clearly. The tree branches swayed in the wind and the rustling of their leaves was music to his ears. He felt them more than he heard them.

Jerome looked around as if seeing the forest for the first time. The trees around him exuded tranquil praise for Mother Nature — even in their state of slumber with their leaves drooping; they celebrated their oneness with nature.

The cacophony of insects blended with the music of the trees. He could feel the caterpillars eat away leaf after leaf as they prepare for the next stage in their development, as well as the beating wings of moths in the night sky. Even without extending his senses, the forest was already overwhelmingly vibrant.

Golden threads of essence lit up the dark as he looked on. He followed the movement, watching as these essence threads moved from the earth into the trees, their branches, and leaves. The two moons in the sky also emitted essence. Theirs was calming and almost gloomy.

The night wasn’t night anymore in his eyes — far from it. It was as bright as day. Colors took on new hues he never saw before as everything around him seemed to glow brightly.

“Incredible,” Jerome muttered, stupefied.

“It is incredible,” Achilles responded. “You have deepened your connection with Mother Nature, Xerae. Congratulations.”

The realization hit Jerome as he heard it from Achilles. He had deepened his relationship with Mother Nature. The act felt so simple yet the result was anything but. In fact, it felt like the most wonderful thing he had ever done. He felt at peace. He felt accepted. He felt validated.

“Hmm? Hu-huhn. Tha-thank you, Achilles,” Jerome stuttered absently. There was so much stimulation to his senses that he found it hard to concentrate on words.

“So was this how the Fae saw things?” He asked, having regained his composure a little.

“Yes, Xerae. But it dulls a little during the day when you’re more active. You’ll get used to it.”

Jerome nodded absently, trying to process everything his mind was assimilating.

“You should take the time to meditate, Xerae. This is a golden opportunity for an epiphany.”

“You’re right. I think I'd do just that.”

He took a moment to center himself, bringing his emotions under control. Closing his eyes, he started to do the breathing exercise Layla taught him when he came back from Blade's Edge Canyon.

~~~

Down in the depths of Mother Nature’s embrace, it dwells.

High up in the sky,

Across lightyears in space, it rules.

With a spark of energy, the flame comes alive.

With every breath it takes, it may bring warmth…

Or it may consume,

All!

One who wields the flame must forbear!

For he wields a dangerous power that may scar Mother Nature’s beauty.

Alas!

The flame cares not for your command!

Neither will it obey them,

It does what it will for it knows,

Its power exceeds yours!

Heed me oh flame!

Heed my will!

For I am Mother Nature’s emissary!

And you shall obey me!

I will wrought control over my vicious nature,

I will bring to heel,

My hunger and avarice.

I will go through the fires of life.

Like the clump of mud that goes through the flame,

And is remade into gold.

I will be formidable!

~~~

Months of studying the memory stones in the depths of the mountain had given Jerome a deep understanding of the elements. When the sun began to rise, he opened his eyes and took a deep breath of the fresh air of the forest.

His meditation had yielded great results today. He had created a mantra of fire. He didn’t call it a mantra though. It was more than that. It had a depth to it that the earth mantra didn’t have. It also exalted Mother Nature in its verses.

Jerome chose to call it An Ode of The Flame.

He was no poet, but he was extremely glad at his work that he decided to carve it onto a piece of wood since he had no parchment or paper. He found a sturdy piece of wood and with his essence, he carefully and painstakingly smoothed out the surface; caressing it with his hands and essence for a long time. After the wood was smooth the real work began — carving the verses of his ode onto it.

Jerome worked for hours, making tiny depressions in the wood, and in the process of doing that, mastering a new skill. He had never done anything of the sort before so it took him more time than he expected. He had to be patient with himself. Patient with the wood else it disintegrated like the twig from the night before. Line after line. Verse after verse, he continued.

When he finished at last, Jerome examined his work with an intrinsic ebullience. All that remained was varnishing and it’ll be perfect. The three-inch thick tablet was half the length of his lower arm and three-quarters that in width with rounded corners — a nice plaque to decorate the walls of his home if he ever got one. Not that he’d put it up for others to see.

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“Good job, Xerae,” Achilles said.

“You think so?” Jerome asked with a smile.

“I know so.”

Jerome tucked the tablet safely into his void space with the thought that he had to build some sort of structure inside it later. It would serve him well if he ever wanted to rest inside the void space. He took out the Sunfire stone, sat on it, and began reciting the Ode of The Flame as he cycled. The moment he began, the temperature of the surrounding forest around him rose quickly and the foliage began to dry up and wither away. Jerome quickly slowed down his consumption of the Sunfire stone but the situation persisted. The only other option was to stop if he didn't want to burn down the whole forest.

Csala woke up the moment she sensed danger, eyeing him and the stone with a cautious gaze.

Jerome jumped down from the Sunfire stone. He quickly set about creating a domed shield around himself and the Sunfire stone to protect the forest from the overpowering heat generated by his absorbing the stone.

Csala walked up to him to watch him work, mesmerized by the movement of his hands as they drew ancient scripts in the soil. She had no idea what any of the scripts meant but she knew they were very powerful. The fact that she slept out in the open forest without any predator attacking her was a testament to that. She reached out to touch the shield after Jerome finished setting it up.

“This one is quite different from last night’s shield, isn’t it?” Csala asked, standing close to the shield and observing the glowing scripts that lit up when she touched the surface of the shield.

“Hmm. It is.”

“So it’ll prevent the heat from burning the forest?”

Jerome stopped to stare at her for a moment. He had never seen this side of Csala before. The succubus was eager to learn and unable to hide her curiosity. It was cute. “It’ll help to contain the heat within the barrier, yes,” he said, nodding his head.

He waited to see if she had any other questions but she seemed lost in thought, eager to soak up as much knowledge as she could from the scripts on the ground. Not that it would be of any use to her. She needed to be able to wield essence to work scripts.

Jerome waited, giving her time to examine the scripts to her heart's content. He thought about what he told her the night before; helping her find a way she could wield essence. A few methods were already in mind, all he needed was to experiment.

Csala walked around the walled dome. After a while, she stopped in front of Jerome and looked up from the scripts on the ground. Jerome was looking at her like a tutor patiently waiting for his pupil to scrape up the little bit of courage they had to ask the question that was troubling them. Csala's face turned crimson in embarrassment.

“That was all I wanted to know,” she said, storming off in anger.

“That's a nice color on you,” Jerome said.

Csala snapped at him, cussing in faerie — her voice, a string of soft-sounding, song-like tones. Even in her anger, Jerome thought she looked cute.

“I’d rather it’s you,” he responded back…in faerie. She had said he should go bed a pig.

Csala stopped dead in her tracks. She turned around slowly to face him with shock written all over her face. Since when did the human learn to speak faerie? It had only been a few lunar cycles since he came to Terra Praeta, not even a full revolution, so how?

Jerome smiled at her and jumped on top of the Sunfire stone. He sat down on it in a meditative posture and shut out everything as he closed his eyes to center himself. Then he began to cycle. He began absorbing essence in great gulps directly from the stone as he recited his verses. The temperature within the shield shot up in an instant, but everywhere outside it was unaffected. Soon enough bright red motes of light filled the space within the shield as the temperature continued to rise.

Jerome took in a deep breath, sucking in the fire attribute essence from the stone as though it was mere oxygen. He knew he couldn’t cultivate like this for long. But he wanted to test his limits. How strong was this body of his? What levels of extreme temperature could it withstand? He couldn’t wait to find out.

Soon enough, the area around Jerome looked like a volcano had erupted. His core kept devouring the fire attribute essence from the Sunfire stone in great volume. Jerome could feel the pores on his skin open up to absorb more and more essence from the Sunfire stone. He reveled in the power that coursed through his veins as a result of the absorption rate. Jerome felt on top of the world. Unstoppable. Invincible!

After a really long time, his body temperature began to climb and he began to feel the heat. His muscles started to twitch and the tips of his fingers began to burn. His hair was already singed at the edges. Jerome had to slow down his core, thereby slowing down his consumption rate. The temperature dropped slowly and he breathed a sigh of relief. Any more and he would have burnt himself beyond his level of tolerance — which was something he had to work on.

Jerome got down from the Sunfire stone and dusted the soot off his robes. He had turned off its protective features to test his limits.

“Wow! This robe is amazing.” The robe which should have been badly damaged from such an extreme temperature was still in pretty good condition.

“I try, Xerae.”

Jerome snorted at that, “Humility doesn't suit you Achilles. How long did I last?” he asked, looking up at the sky. He only remembered now that he should have set a timer with his timekeeper. The sun was already moving toward the horizon.

“Very long. Thirteen hours, sixteen minutes, and twenty seconds to be precise,” Achilles said as Jerome stuffed the Sunfire stone back into his void space.

Jerome whistled in amazement. He remembered Terra Praeta’s day was 48 hours long, which meant he had spent more than half a day of his own planet’s time in what would typically be an active volcano. Jerome chuckled. His tolerance was impeccable — at least for this intensity of heat. Just how powerful would he be when he became a Spirit Realm expert? Jerome smiled at himself, taking pride in this remarkable feat.

Csala walked towards him when she sensed he was done. The slight wrinkling of her brows was evidence enough she was annoyed with him. Yet she hesitated to come near him. The human had survived such an intense eruption of fire. She had watched everything happen from a distance and her senses had let her know that she would probably not come out of that fire alive.

“Are you done?” she asked wearily. She had all her walls up now, not used to being around people who were more powerful than her. If there was one thing she could describe Jerome as it would be unfathomable.

There was no way a Sprout should be able to do the things he did. There had to be something else going on. Something she was missing. Perhaps he was an heir to one of those truly powerful humans in his world, just as she had thought before. The Sprouts she had dealt with for two centuries were powerful, and she had dealt with a lot of them. However, Jerome was breaking every limit she had held as a standard of power for a human Sprout. Csala was glad she didn’t kill him when she had power over him. Perhaps her life would have ended that very day if she had. She shivered slightly at the thought.

Jerome knew that Csala had only ever dealt with Sprouts from the Royal family of Vorthe — mostly those who weren’t direct blood relatives of the Sovereign. They were all fairly powerful sacred artists but seeing the look on her face, he knew he put all of them to shame with his feats. She had never met a sacred artist as powerful as he was. What with the fact that only Sprouts from the Royal family had been here in the last 600 years.

Was it just Sprouts from Vorthe that could enter Terra Praeta though? If it was, were the other Transcendents around the world not furious about the fact that only Vorthean Sprouts could enter Terra Praeta?

“Yes. Vorthean Sprouts are the only ones that can enter Terra Praeta, Xerae,” Achilles said to him. “The other Transcendents in your world are not as powerful as Vorthe’s Sovereign.”

Really.

“Yes, Xerae.”

Well, that’s a relief…kinda. If the other Transcendents were just as powerful as the Sovereign, they’d forgo peace to obtain the opportunity for their Sprouts to enter Terra Praeta. That wouldn’t go well for anybody. However, they could just as easily band together to defeat the Sovereign. But that wouldn’t happen. Jerome knew how powerful people operated. Transcendents fighting could lead to another cataclysm of unimaginable proportions.

“Ahem,” Csala coughed to get his attention. “You’re doing it again.”

“Huh?” Jerome focused his attention on her words.

“Trailing off…Odin only knows what Spirit you speak with, you look like someone daydreaming,” Csala said, eyeing him suspiciously. “You talk to Spirits, can shake off my aura, and just so happened to learn how to speak faerie in a little over half a revolution…”

“A year,” Achilles whispered to Jerome.

I know, damn it! Jerome snapped at him.

“You do realize,” Jerome started. “...that since I could gain entrance to places previously hidden in the mountain, there is a very high probability that I could have come across ancient knowledge left behind by the Fae, and learned to speak faerie.”

“I hate surprises, Jerome,” Csala said, her voice conveying the fact that she wasn’t in control of her life anymore and she didn’t like it. “What else are you going to do next? You know what, just get me to the place you promised.”

Jerome chuckled, “I hear you Csala. You’d get your powers back. I promise. And it’s good to know you’ve not forgotten my name."

Csala snorted at that, relaxing once again in his presence. “A name is a name. Whether I call you Jerome or human wouldn’t take away from your status as the dominant one here.” She quickly snapped her mouth shut.

Jerome, however, was taken aback by her words. The realization of her situation and the mentality she had towards it hit him immediately. She had been putting on a strong front for quite some time in hopes of fending him off should he try to take advantage of her. It was self-preservation.

“Csala we are not in that kind of situation. I’m not your dominant and you’re not subservient to me,” he said, moving closer to her. Csala took several steps back from him and a blade materialized in her hands.

Jerome stopped and quickly put up his hand. He knew at once that this was a delicate situation. If he handled it wrongly, things would go from bad to worse between them. “Easy…easy,” he said. Maybe I shouldn’t have said it like that, he thought.

“You think?” Achilles chipped in. “Way to ruin the fun, Xerae.”

Will you shut the fuck up, Achilles!

Csala felt like running away and burying herself under a rock. His stating how she saw their dynamics in such simple words was like he had opened up her heart and looked inside, seeing all the thoughts she kept hidden there. She held her dagger in front of her as she slowly backed away, ready to kill if need be. Damn the consequences. She wasn’t going to be a slave to a man.

Jerome was equally uneasy. He didn’t know what to do in such a situation. He wanted to let her know he was not going to take advantage of her but didn’t know how she would take it.

“Why don’t we sit down for a bit and iron out some things,” Jerome said, sitting on a rock. Csala stayed away, keeping her long dagger in front of her the whole time.

“Guess we’ll remain standing then,” he said, standing back up. On second thought, he sat back down again. It was better to appear non-threatening in a situation like this.

“Look, I feel I owe you and that’s why I’m taking you up North to help you,” Jerome began. “I understand how you may feel but you don’t need to fear me. I’m not gonna demand anything from you nor will I take advantage of you. I don’t see you as subservient. You don’t need to be subservient.”

His words didn’t convince her one bit, however. “Swear it!” she demanded, her voice strong with determination, daring him to do so.

Jerome shrugged and began, “I swear by the earth of Terra Praeta on which I stand that I will never demand anything from Csala, nor take advantage of her. Her Will will be hers, as will her body, to do as she pleases.”