17

In the dark, Oliver couldn’t make very good progress, but he moved steadily enough. He ran steadily through the night and when the sun finally rose, he was so exhausted he had to stop. Oliver sat against a tree and drank heavily from a water-skin he had salvaged from his home. He sat for several minutes, catching his breath as he rehydrated.

Now that he surveyed his area, he was surprised to find the main road not far from his position. There was nothing like a large trade route leading to Albrine manor, so he was shocked at the distance he had apparently traveled. His new capabilities had brought him nearly out of the forest.

He figured he could follow the road from a safe distance, as roads were still the fastest route from one position to another. Without a horse he doubted he would make great progress in any case, but given his current pace it shouldn’t take him too long to get where he was going, wherever that was.

Oliver needed to sleep, replenishing his mind instead of only resting his lungs and legs was much better for his overall well-being, but he had been sensing malevolent intent throughout the night and more than once he sensed the same beast, as though he was being stalked. He hadn’t sensed anything in over an hour, which was why he had decided to rest while he could. Nevertheless, he decided he didn’t have the safety to sleep now and was just about to start his run again when Angli spoke.

“You should rest. I will take over.”

“Are you sure? Shouldn’t I let my body rest too if I’m going to rejuvenate?”

“True, you will need to allow your body to rest eventually, but the limits of your body have increased exponentially. You are still unaware of your true capabilities. Enter Sleep. I will keep moving. We need to reach the Holy Land as soon as possible. You will be unable to utilize the necklace until we do.”

“I don’t know what any of that means.”

“Rest. It is unimportant right now. You will understand more when the time comes.”

Oliver knew he had no choice but to listen. He slowly gave control of his body to Angli, and she began flexing his limbs. He could feel how unfamiliar she was with his height and weight, as well as the lengths of his arms. During the fight, she had acclimated instantly to him, but he assumed that must have been the result of magic.

She didn’t seem to have the same instant control of his body that she had then. Still, it only took her around five seconds to acclimate each limb. Within a minute, she was rolling his head on his shoulders and jumping up and down lightly in preparation for her jog. Oliver watched through the tunnel his eyes had become for a few more seconds before he receded fully into his mind and began Sleep to rejuvenate his spirit.

When Oliver woke from his slumber, Angli had taken his body far beyond the forested land. She was still shadowing the road, but now she was using a large mountain which guided the trail for several miles as cover. It was just one mountain in the Headless Spire range, which Oliver knew continued for several days. There was still plenty of forested area, it just framed the other side of the road. On the other side of the forested area rested a series of smaller peaks for which the mountain range had been named. Legend had it, a colossal creature split the tops of each mountain. The peaks then fell to the earth and crushed the terrain. They created a pass between the top and base of each mountain. It was that pass that Oliver now traveled through.

“I’ll take over again,” Oliver said.

“Okay. Now that we left the forest, we’re not being pursued anymore. You should allow your body rest. The next leg of the journey will take us deep into the mountains,” she said.

“I just woke up and you want me to sleep?”

“No. Just rest your muscles. When all around rest is inconvenient, alternating between mind and body is often the best solution. We can talk about your training while you catch your breath.”

Oliver was able to seamlessly take control of his body this time and did so just as Angli sat down in a meditative pose. Oliver felt the oxygen flow through him once more, which once again gave the intense sensation of air flooding his lungs all at once. The feeling was exasperated by the fact that Angli had apparently not stopped running for several hours, leaving him completely winded.

He almost opened his eyes, but before he could a light flared up behind his eyelids. It swirled into a doorway and Oliver heard Angli speak from beyond it.

“Come in,” she said simply.

He didn’t know how he was supposed to enter a doorway in his mind, but upon considering it, he felt his consciousness slide into the shining doorway behind his eyes. He came through the other side to find a well adorned room akin to a study. There were rows upon rows of books and scrolls lining each wall, of which there were six.

A long table with several odd devices and utensils rested parallel to one wall, spaced far enough from the bookshelves to give ample room. Many oddities existed independently or conjoined to other contraptions around the room. A single wall was adorned with a fireplace accompanied by two high-backed chairs, and in one of those chairs sat Angli.

“Have a seat,” she said.

“What is this place?”

“This is a passable representation of my mind,” Angli said, clearly expecting the question.

“This is your mind?” Oliver asked. He was baffled by the sheer size of the library.

“These shelves contain all the knowledge I have available to me. I have compiled my life into text after text. Some of this knowledge was given to me by others, and some of it I was given through the pain of experience. I come here to think and clear my head. I find that problems of the present often have a clear and powerful connection with events of the past. It is always helpful to have a basis for the knowledge we hope to gain and more importantly, to have a solution to a persistent problem that just happens to have occurred thousands of years prior.”

“So, you made all of this with a spell?” Oliver asked, coming to take a seat next to her.

“Not every powerful force in this universe is magical Oliver. Your brain is far more dangerous and amazing than any spell you could ever cast.”

“You mean you just imagined all of this, and it appeared like this?”

“Not at first. The brain is a muscle that you can exercise like any other. I created the space first to meditate and find my center. Over vast years I’ve compiled all of the knowledge you see here into categories and filed it all away. My mind is my sanctum, and I have control over every part of it. Mental fortitude is a difficult skill to train, but when you live as long as I have, even that becomes just another lesson.”

“How can I make a place like this in my mind?”

“I can teach you, but there are more pressing lessons you must learn.” Angli stood briefly to retrieve a book from a shelf. It was embossed in gold, and it had large ornate letters in a language Oliver didn’t recognize.

“What is that?” Oliver asked.

“This is some of the knowledge given to me by others. I think you’ll find the information to be both startlingly thorough and remarkably helpful,” Angli said as she handed him the book and retook her seat.

“What is it about?” he asked.

“Just read it, all will become clear.”

Oliver looked at the book and noticed the cover was a depiction. There was a man in the center of the art. On either side of him was a mob of people, all brandishing weapons and in several cases light or dark magics arced from hands. The two sides were clearly at war, separated only by the figure in the center, who was brandishing a golden blade with a shining jewel in the pommel.

“This is about the Holy Sword, isn’t it?”

“Not exactly, but it does contain useful insight on how to wield it properly. Open it up,” she said.

Oliver opened the book and was confused to find it blank. His confusion lasted only a moment before a shimmering light appeared on the pages. Oliver peered into the light as it expanded to cover the full spread of the open book. Inside it coalesced a scene.

18

The scene started with a man whose face was obscured beneath a cloak walking through a grand carved archway. The arch was lined with glyphs and runes Oliver couldn’t hope to understand. A shimmering energy encompassed the whole inside of the arch, and as the man walked through it, an amazing world was revealed beyond it.

Oliver gasped as he beheld a beautiful city. Buildings as high as the sky rested on clouds hovering near eye level. Buildings grew in odd directions as though sat down on their respective clouds at a funny angle. Innumerable rainbow bridges connected different cloud islands with one another. Some islands looked so small and bare, they appeared to Oliver to be meaningless.

Countless creatures flew in the sky, several species among them, but the most prominent was a race Oliver surprisingly found himself slightly familiar with. They looked like the lady necklace he now wore around his neck. They had long wings which protruded from their backs and spanned great distances. Each set of wings were a different color, and Oliver could tell that those colors were not innocuous. Even through the book, each being had a vast and powerful aura.

Oliver watched the man cross numerous bridges, coming to a small island with only one occupant. She was short, maybe only five feet in height, but her folded wings were massive, and unlike every other Oliver had seen, she had feathers of every color. It wasn’t simply the colors of the normal spectrum, Oliver had never even seen many of the colors, and he suspected they existed only within this one being’s wings. Oliver was stricken with how beautiful the woman was, even before she turned around.

“Hello,” she said, still gazing off into the endless sea of clouds around them. Her voice was beyond angelic. She seemed to vibrate the world around her in the most pleasant way when she spoke. Oliver was entranced immediately with her.

“I need your help,” the man said without preamble.

“I know,” the woman said. She sounded sad, and there was a note of longing in her voice.

“Can you help me?” the man asked with haste.

“I will do what I can, but the price may be too great to bear.”

“No price is too great to have what I seek,” he replied.

“I hope you are correct,” the woman said.

She turned for the first time to look at the man, and there was a profound sadness on her face. Her face itself was flawless. Her black hair was perfectly framing it, and the lustrous locks seemed to reflect a beautiful sheen onto her skin.

Her eyes were blue, and within them was the memory of several hardships she had endured which leant her gaze an almost pitying expression. It looked like she pitied everyone she looked upon for what they had yet to experience. Or maybe it was only this person she looked upon with such sadness.

“Bring the components you need, and we will begin working immediately,” she said to him.

The man began speaking at length, asking for directions to various locations. The woman answered each inquiry with perfect confidence. Much of it sounded like nonsense to Oliver. He had no idea what the man was talking about, but the woman obviously did.

It was all very confusing to Oliver, but the scene soon swirled around him and reformed in a similar area. The man was standing before an anvil, handing a jewel to the same woman. She was holding both of her hands out as if she was feeling a surface at arm’s length. On a table near the end of her outstretched hands was a blade. It had a familiar hilt, and its body was oddly colorless.

“Now the price must be paid,” the woman said.

“I’m ready,” he replied.

Whether he was ready or not, the man immediately fell on the ground screaming and holding his head. He writhed on the ground and continued screaming as the jewel in his hand began to glow. For several minutes, Oliver watched uncomfortably as the man screamed in pain and writhed around. His efforts caused his hood to be displaced and Oliver could see the barest hint of his face.

He had a large pink scar all the way across his face. His eyes were a pale blue, and they spoke of overuse. If an Orenda used his magic excessively and without allowing his body to replenish, the cost of the magic would alter his body. Some were known to have withered their own spirits in this manner and the resulting corruption usually created a wraith.

This man didn’t look nearly so drained, but he was still noticeably aged from a normal person. Oliver was startled to see the look on the man’s face. It wasn’t a face of pain or regret. His face was one of aggrieved longing, and acceptance of his fate. He looked like an addict, deep in the throes of withdrawal. He had a look in his eye that told Oliver he would have literally given his soul for the gift he was about to receive.

As Oliver tried to rationalize the scene, the book’s image swirled again, and he was staring at the man and woman standing side by side, both gazing in amazement at the finished sword on the bench in front of them. The man looked aged further in this scene, and his eyes were a little more sunken and hollower. Their color was bright blue, but there were subtle hints of red within them.

The blade they gazed at shone, blade to hilt like a miniature sun. It almost hummed with energy. Oliver knew he looked upon the sword he now carried at the time of its creation. The woman produced a dark length of wood and placed it next to the sword. Then she chanted a long spell, the words of which were foreign to Oliver. As she spoke, Glyphs shone on the sword and the wood alike before the wood flowed like water, encompassing the blade and becoming the sheath of the Holy Sword.

Again, the scene dissolved, and next, the man was holding the blade. He stood firm against a whole host of enemies as they attempted to bring him low. He ducked, dipped, swerved, jumped, flipped, slid, and rolled around, dancing between the adversaries with impunity. Each action he took corresponded with an expertly executed strike, and each strike he made signaled the death of another attacker.

Within only moments, he stood alone on a bloody battlefield. The dead around him bore two distinct sigils. It was this moment that Oliver realized the scene from the front of the book didn’t depict two armies coerced into peace by this one man, it was a depiction of this man standing firm against not one but two armies. The thought of it had Oliver in a daze. Oliver shivered as the man seemed to gaze out of the book at him in the same instant that his eyes landed on the man.

Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

“Let me teach you,” The man said.

Oliver was so startled that he wasn’t ready when the book dissolved again and instead of a scene reforming, this time complex mathematical formulas scrolled across the pages in an endless procession as the book magically transferred an immense amount of information regarding the Holy Sword directly into his brain. Oliver gasped as countless scenarios of battle played out before him, only instead of seeing someone else, he was performing all the actions himself.

Oliver swung the sword, twisting his wrist as he did so to release the stored energy in a brutally powerful explosion. Next, he was standing firm as a dozen kinds of energy arced towards him in a fierce attack. He simply pulled his nearly invisible and utterly intangible absorbing blade, Reina from the sheath and intercepted each power as it approached him. Each was caught on the blade, giving it several different hues as he swiftly sheathed it. Several short clips played out as Oliver watched, and in the end another long string of numbers and strange arcane symbols passed before his eyes.

“A Gift to you, so that you may do what you must,” the man’s voice said.

19

Oliver couldn’t make sense of the information and his brain threatened to shut down from the overload. He closed the book with a pained gasp as his eyes unfocused. He could hear Angli’s soothing voice telling him everything was okay, but he couldn’t make his eyes focus on his surroundings. His brain took a full five minutes to regain normal function. As it did, his eyes slowly came into focus, and he felt a massive headache throbbing in every corner of his brain.

“-and there is no other way for you to learn such knowledge in the time we have, so I had no choice. But the effects are only temporary. You should feel them start to diminish momentarily.” Oliver only caught the last half of her speech, but he got the general meaning of what she had said. Basically, it amounted to “I didn’t mention the pain because you wouldn’t have agreed to it, and it won’t last forever so don’t be a wuss.”

“What was that?” Oliver was shaken.

“That was the creator of the Holy Sword.”

“No, I meant all of the numbers and symbols at the end. And how did the guy know I was watching? He spoke to me.”

Angli looked confused. She didn’t speak for a moment, but when she did it was with the same certain tone she always used.

“I don’t believe he spoke to you; your brain simply interpreted the information as a personal message.”

“No. he spoke to me. He asked to help me and then he said he was giving me the knowledge I needed for something or another.”

“That’s not possible. The memory the information was derived from came from Illari herself. It only contains information on how to properly handle the blade and its various applications of the power it can absorb.”

“I saw the man create the Holy Sword. He gathered all of these magical components and this woman took something from him and made the sword. What were all of those arcane symbols? And who were those people?”

“I… how did?” Angli was dumbfounded for the first time since Oliver had known her.

“What is wrong?”

“You shouldn’t have seen so much. I learned my own use of the blade from the very same memory, and I know for certain that it only showed me how to use the blade. How did you unlock information from one of my archives that not even I knew was there?”

“I don’t know. It was disturbing. The man looked almost insane with lust. He would have done anything to make the Holy Sword. It was disconcerting.”

“I… don’t know anything about that. It is concerning that such information has been locked within my mind and I haven’t known of it. The man’s name was Silas.”

“How do you know?”

“I don’t know. But if what you’re saying is true, you witnessed the birth of the Holy Sword. I know from Illari that they created the sword with the help of a man named Silas. I always assumed the man in the demonstration was him. But I never imagined the memory might contain the forging itself.”

“Why would I be able to see it when you never could?”

“I intend to ask Illari the very same question when we get to her.”

“Who is Illari?”

“You will meet her soon enough,” Angli said simply.

“So, what do we do now?”

“Putting the anomaly out of mind, now, we train.”

“Train? I thought my body was resting?”

“Oh, dear Oliver. You don’t know me at all.”

The study dissolved around them until they were left in a formless white area which seemed to have no walls or ceilings, yet the area all around him was tangible. He was imagining himself standing in a humongous cloud. White expanse surrounded his every muscle and hair. Only Angli stood out in the expanse. She was the only other solid matter besides him in the area.

“This is the Endless Expanse. Its limitations are only that of the inhabitants’ minds. For example,” Angli poked a finger above her head and Oliver was startled to feel her finger touch him on the cheek.

“What the hell?” he asked, trying to figure out how she did that.

“I have total control here. You will gain control over time, but even now we can use this place to train your skills.”

“How do we do that?”

Angli pulled a sword which was identical to the Holy Sword from her back and pointed it at him. He had only a second to recognize the threat before she leaped at him. He automatically pulled his own sword, which had magically appeared on his back the instant he needed it to be there. Their blades collided with sparks and a screech of metal, and Oliver stumbled back.

“Good. Your reflexes have already improved from the information you received.”

She lunged at him again, and he raised his blade to block, only to find her blade poking into the white expanse all around them. It came out in a completely odd angle, weaving right under his block to stab him in the gut. He flinched as the blade pierced his body, but since they were practicing inside his mind there was no real pain. All he felt was a cold chill as the imaginary blade bit into him.

“You have to react to attacks that you don’t expect as well as the ones you can see coming,” she told him.

“How? I had no idea you could do that,” he said.

“Stop making excuses.” She replied, a hard note suddenly in her voice.

“I’m not. I really didn’t know you-” Oliver was cut off by another poke on the cheek.

Her response hit home. She was right. Oliver had been given a silent warning in the form of a poke on his cheek that shouldn’t have been possible. She had also blatantly told him that she was in full control of this space. He had been making excuses for his own shortcomings.

“So how should I have reacted to that?”

“How is up to you, the only action I would have considered wrong is inaction, which is the action you chose. Never accept that there is nothing you can do. You have a beating heart and a working brain; you are never without an option.”

She didn’t elaborate further but attacked again. He was ready this time, and when their blades failed to connect, he was ready for the blade to emerge inside his guard. He twisted his body in an attempt to dodge the icy blade. His efforts received him another quick stab from the blade, this time from above. It bit into his shoulder just beside his collarbone.

“Never assume an attack will happen the same way twice. Just because you know a trick is coming, don’t presume you’re privy to the true nature of it. Again!”

She jumped at him and he back stepped. He wanted to keep his distance from her. She was more than ready for this though, and she used the white expanse to close the distance with her blade. It appeared in front of Oliver’s face with only inches between them.

Reacting faster than he thought he could, Oliver shot his head to the side as a brutal stab instead only slid along his cheek. In a real fight it would have still been debilitating, but he had turned a fatal attack into a graze. Angli followed up with a kick which formed only a foot or so in front of him.

He tried to back roll away from it, but she still grazed his chest and aided his backward momentum so much that his roll was disrupted. He hit the ground, which mysteriously appeared under him when before he had felt like he was floating in the expanse. He hadn’t even known there was a ground. Perhaps it was a creation of Angli’s will, as she tried to get him into a position of weakness. He pondered this as stab after stab came for him in his prone form.

He rolled and flopped around, trying to use his blade as a deterrent as much as possible, but he accumulated several tags in places not quite on the intended targets of Angli’s attacks. Every attack that came, just as she had admonished him to do, he tried anything he could not to be struck. He was always struck anyway, but her advice clearly had merit as fatal stabs and slashes repeatedly became nicks and bruises.

Angli continued to work his reflexes as hard as he could handle. She worked for what seemed like hours before letting him rest. He was mentally exhausted and had no idea how long they had been at it, but when his eyes opened, the world was dark. He saw no better option than to take a nap. Before he did, he decided to address a topic that had been bothering him.

“How are there Demons here in our world? I thought the Angel race and the Demon race were banished from our world forever.”

“Yes. It’s true. The Demons inhabit the Divine Plane of Dark. They are stuck there like eternal prisoners in their cells. Similarly, the Angel race is imprisoned in the Divine Plane of Light. But like any cell, some of the prisoners have been able to escape. A few eons ago, there was this scheme hatched by the Demons. A large number of them banded together in an attempt to open a portal to our world. It ended up working, and they sent a few breeding class demons into the portal. They were tasked with finding mortals to mate with as fast and often as possible. Breeders can spawn a few thousand children in a matter of days using their magic, so the few sent were enough to accomplish the goals of those in charge. The offspring that arose from the whole thing are none other than the Imps, like the one you saw.”

“The Demons went through all of the trouble just to make Imps?”

“Don’t underestimate them. When the tear in reality became unstable, it closed off without a trace, supposedly killing those who put their power into keeping it open. A vast power vacuum was created within the Demon race. Despite this, they were all better off as a result. With the birth of the Imps came the fruition of the plan. Imps were born as the half demon link between our worlds. Demons are temporarily summoned into our world by Imps. As I already explained, Imps draw power from the Dark Matter released by the demon they summon. If the demon completes the task assigned to them, they return to the Divine Plane of Dark stronger than they were. No one knows how they gain power, but they seem to siphon the energy from our world. I assume that the Angel race has something similar going on with the Mortal Plane of Dark, just like the Angel race has found ways to temporarily manifest in our realm. The prison that binds the two races is imperfect, but it prevents them from remaining in the mortal realms for long.”

“This is so confusing,” Oliver thought. He didn’t understand how any of it was supposed to make sense.

“Remember this. No plan is perfect. Our family is the failsafe installed into the world. It is up to you to purge any Dark Matter from the world and keep the balance intact.”

Oliver didn’t know how to respond to that, so he decided to finally get some sleep.

20

Oliver and Angli traveled in a pattern the next several days. During the day he would make as much progress as he could towards their goal, Oliver would spend time working on his Spell Wall, and at night before she would allow him to sleep, Angli had him train with her in the Endless Expanse for an hour.

His abilities markedly improved over the days. In the beginning, he couldn’t keep from being marked several times by her attacks. As the days passed however, he not only began stopping her attacks, but he was also able to return attacks.

She told him many secrets she had learned over the years; tricks to focus during distracting situations, ways to cast magic that were so subtle or unconventional, the spell almost seemed to become something else entirely, and a thousand and one sword techniques to gain the upper hand in a duel. His magical abilities unlocked steadily. He began to understand himself and his limitations.

He had more spells than he would have imagined. All his previously known abilities showed up in his mind too. They were categorized by utility. He had a section for offensive spells, of which he had unlocked only three. He also had a section for defensive spells. He had a few old ones, and a new one which was called Light Burst. It created a blinding light, which he could summon in any location within fifty feet of him. It was useful, but he thought the spell belonged in the third class, support spells.

This was the most abundant spell list. Many of his known spells resided here, such as his spell for magic detection. He had unlocked the most of this type of spells. He had a few new ones, but the one that stood out the most was one he had noticed many times before, but since it remained behind the locked section of his spell list, he had been unable to try it. It had a very strange aura. It was as if it couldn’t pick a color for its aura. He was startled by all the shifting color it contained. It reminded him of the lady in the memory he watched.

He also, not for the first time, studied the spell which sat alone and locked behind mental walls he couldn’t breach. It sat independent of the categories Oliver had created in his mind, which was one of the most puzzling things about the spell. It had no aura. It was totally clear, like a mountain stream. It contained mysterious forms, which seemed to appear at random and very briefly before disappearing again into the swirl of clear energy. Oliver couldn’t make sense of it, nor did Angli have any idea what it was. He assumed it would be unlocked in time.

During one of the night’s trainings, Oliver asked Angli to teach him about the use of magic. He knew the fundamentals of magic, the rules for casting spells, the theory behind the price of magic, and many odds and ends about the arcane arts, but he had a feeling what he knew was only a fraction of what Angli could teach him.

“As you may know,” Angli began, “the practice of magic adheres to a series of rules. All things in existence have rules. The shifting manner in which the wind blows around you; the rain that falls from above; the cycle in which all living things consume others to sustain themselves. These are all examples of immutable laws of existence. The laws for magic are as follows.

“Rule number one: all spells have a source; magic must originate from somewhere. In addition, in order for magic to be properly harnessed, it must be bound by speech. Rule number two: no spell is without cost; the price you pay is always greater than the effect of the spell. In other words, spells take a toll on the mind, body, and soul of the caster with each use. Rule number three: if the cost of a spell is greater than the caster’s ability to pay, the outcome is always disaster. Sometimes death is the result. Sometimes the outcome is even more dangerous. Rule number four: The number of concurrent spells exponentially increases the toll those spells will take. Two simultaneous spells are twice as hard to maintain; four spells may be more than eight times as taxing. Rule number five: magic cannot reach beyond the veil of life and death; dead is dead. These are the five immutable laws of magic. Are you familiar with everything I have said so far?”

“Most of it. Some of the specifics on the price of magic were unfamiliar, but in general, yes.” Oliver replied, glad that for once, he wasn’t clueless.

“Good. Now we will talk about the difference between you and I and everyone else. What are the different kinds of spells?”

“Command spells and Incantations,” Oliver answered automatically.

“Correct. And what are the differences in the two?”

“Command spells are known spells, which the user is familiar with and has certain mastery over. They are activated instantly, usually by a single word or short phrase. Incantations are more complex spells, often unknown by the user and thus require a lengthy spoken intent to manifest. Many people carry tomes with them that contain the complex gestures and arcane speech required to cast them. It is the means we have for casting spells we do not understand or fully have mastery over. As such they are more dangerous.”

“There is more to it than that, but in general, yes. You know the basics of magic well enough. But now, as a True Blessed, you have certain abilities with magic that no others have. For example,” Angli faced him. They were standing in the Endless Expanse, where they always spent their discussions. She lifted a hand, and a ball of light appeared in it.

“As you already discovered, Command spells require only a thought. The command itself serves as a shortcut to the knowledge needed for a spell. For you and me, no spoken command is necessary. But what about an Incantation?”

“I… don’t know. I assume by the way you’re asking that there is something special about them as well. Can we cast an Incantation without forming the spell with words?”

“Alas, no. Even we cannot contradict the rules of magic. We do, however, have a vast advantage over most. Allow me to demonstrate.”

Angli crouched down and pulled something from her pocket. Oliver squatted down to see what she had and was surprised to see a single seed between her fingers. She placed it down on the formless ground of the mental space they inhabited. After smiling mischievously at Oliver, she placed her hand out to the minuscule seed. Oliver watched for several seconds as nothing happened. He was about to ask her what she was doing, when the seed suddenly split apart.

A green stem burst from the seed and quickly began to grow. It rose several inches into the air before a bud appeared at the end of it. Just as soon as he saw it, the bud broke open to reveal beautiful multicolored flower. It continued to grow for a few more seconds before numerous seeds fell from it and hit the ground.

Before Oliver could even remark on them, they too burst open and began growing. It began happening faster and faster as he watched, and soon all of those seeds were full flowers and dropping their own seeds. Over and over this happened, gaining speed each time seeds fell to the ground. Within a few minutes, the two of them were standing in a field of vibrant flowers. Oliver broke into delighted laughter at the sight of so much color around him so suddenly.

“How did you do that? I thought you said Incantations still needed to be spoken?”

“Yes, but with our Blessing, we have access to something that no one else does. It’s called an Arcane Headspace. Everyone capable of casting a spell has an Arcane Headspace. For most people, it’s either inaccessible or incomplete. Some cannot even see their Spell Wall. But you and I have total control of our Arcane Headspace. Any Incantation you wish to use may be formed in this space. In other words, while you still have to speak the proper words, you no longer have to speak them out loud. It is a huge advantage in battle.”

Oliver could see how advantageous that could be. Not having to construct the spell out loud would keep the caster’s intentions secret until the spell struck. As long as he could properly memorize any Incantation he wanted to use, that was. He smiled at the implication. He still had one more question about magic though.

“If Command spells are those we are able to cast with our inherent knowledge, how do we gain that knowledge? I unlocked several spells over the years, but only after immense study under elders of the family. But ever since my newest blessing, I have been going through my new spells, and some of them, I just seem to understand. How is that possible?”

“The knowledge is a gift. It comes from Du Varia herself. Any spell on your Wall that you haven’t yet used is an Incantation spell. Some, like the wind spell you cast, will be usable immediately as Command spells if you are granted the knowledge. The rest, you must dissect and learn the Incantation before you can use them. Only after you understand the magic in its entirety can it be used as a Command. It is one of the most important undertakings for an Orenda to master their Spell Wall.”

“Is there any advice you can give me to help with that task?”

“Train relentlessly. Nothing short of your best effort. If you don’t, when we finally confront Ro, nothing will be left of you, me, or our entire family legacy. It all rests with you.”

To that, Oliver had no response.