As Charles's eyes fluttered open, he was greeted by an eerie silence. The camp had been enveloped in a thin veil of mist that drifted among the tall bronze grass. The sun had yet to breach the horizon, but its imminent arrival cast a soft, ethereal glow, painting the valley in a tranquil shade of blue.

The rough surface of his makeshift bed had left Charles with a stiff neck and sore shoulders. It was clear that the temporary sleeping arrangements were not meant for extended comfort. He chuckled to himself, considering the possibility of spending the next night directly on the grass, wondering if it harboured any pesky critters that might take a liking to his vulnerable skin. Leaving Ellie cocooned in warm blankets, he rose from the bed, rubbing the remnants of sleep from his eyes.

Shrugging off the discomfort in his muscles, Charles meandered through the camp, allowing his nose to guide him toward a tantalizing scent. The aroma grew stronger, leading him toward a rising plume of smoke. There, he spotted Maze, the seasoned traveller, wearing a warm smile as he tended to a large, bubbling brown pot suspended over oddly silent flames.

"Ah, Maze," Charles called out, his voice carrying a mixture of relief and gratitude. "Brewing up something wonderful, I see."

Maze turned, his eyes crinkling with delight. His weathered hands continued to stir the contents of the pot with a practiced rhythm.

"Aye, Charles," Maze replied, his voice carrying a hint of gravel. "Just a little concoction to start the day right. Sit yourself down, my boy. The fire's warm, and the stew will warm your bones."

With a grateful nod, Charles settled onto a nearby log, welcoming the crackling warmth of the fire. He watched in fascination as Maze expertly added a medley of herbs and spices to the pot, their fragrances mingling with the smoky air. The aroma wafted through the camp, hinting at the hearty meal to come.

As the morning light slowly grew brighter, casting golden rays across the camp, Charles leaned closer to Maze, unable to contain his curiosity any longer.

"So, Maze, what's for breakfast?" he asked, a mischievous glimmer in his eyes.

Maze chuckled. "Ah, my boy. Let's just say it's a touch of magic, a dash of wisdom, and a sprinkle of nature's blessings. It'll put some fire in your belly and warmth to you heart."

The old storyteller, a twinkle in his eyes, produced two bowls from within the folds of his cloak. With a gentle hand, he filled each bowl to the brim, ensuring a generous portion. Charles accepted the bowl, and took a spoonful, letting the flavours dance on his tongue, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise as he muttered appreciatively.

The soup was a medley of spices and vegetables, its consistency thick and hearty. A subtle hint of something reminiscent of mint and lamb added a touch of unexpected intrigue, reminiscent of the flavours found in an old Irish stew.

Charles marvelled at the odd choice for breakfast, but his hunger got the better of him, and he greedily dug into the delicious concoction.

With a contented slurp, Charles set his spoon down and looked up from his bowl, his curiosity piqued by another pressing matter. "Maze," he began, his voice laced with genuine curiosity, "how much supplies do we all have left?"

Maze's gaze wandered across the camp, his eyes scanning the wagons. He took a moment to calculate, his lips moving silently as he counted. Finally, he turned his attention back to Charles, his expression calm and assured.

"Fear not, my boy. We have enough," Maze said. He gestured toward the soup, a knowing smile gracing his lips. "Half of it was gathered from the hills, where nature kindly provided."

Charles looked surprised, his mind flashing back to the barren, grassy plain that stretched out before them. He had searched yet had found nothing.

Maze grinned and wrapped his knuckles on his side, where the unmistakable thud echoed, betraying the presence of the magical treasure.

"That book," Charles began tentatively, his voice filled with concern, "is that the only one you have left?"

Maze's face softened. He reached a hand to his side, pulled out the book, gently caressing its worn cover, as if in silent conversation with its bound contents. After a moment of contemplation, he looked back at Charles.

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Maze let out a weary sigh, his eyes gazing into the distance as he recollected the memories of his past. "Unfortunately, yes," he admitted. "I came into possession of these two tomes a long time ago, in a series of nasty and unfortunate circumstances that nearly cost me my life."

Charles felt a heaviness settle upon him, the realisation of the magnitude of Maze's sacrifice weighing heavily on his heart. The blue book that had been sacrificed to save them held a deeper significance than any of them had initially grasped. It was a testament to Maze's deep care and concern for their well-being.

Maze's expression turned serious for a brief moment as he continued. "Charles, you seem to have an affinity with the Ink," he said, taking the empty bowl from Charles and retrieving the green book from within his cloak. "I need to rest. Channelling events takes a lot out of me.”

Charles eyed Maze with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. "Are you about to teach me magic?"

Maze smirked. "Kind of," he replied, placing the green book into Charles's open hands. "Let me at least explain how it works, so you can understand the workings behind the Ink."

Confusion etched across Charles's face as he tried to make sense of the old man's words.

"Okay, let's start here," Maze began, his tone patient yet filled with depth. "The misconception with these books is that they enable you to cast spells. But the truth is, there is no magic in the land anymore. The power of magic has been trapped behind the veil of the Dread Ink and the Book of the Known."

Charles's mind raced, his thoughts returning to the Book Karn had discovered in his uncle's house.

"So, if there's no magic, how can you cast spells with these books?" Charles asked.

Maze smiled. "The magic is contained within the Ink," he explained. "The books allow you to copy anything that is trapped within their pages."

Charles's eyes widened in astonishment. "Copy?" he repeated, his mind grappling with the possibilities.

Maze grinned, pleased by Charles's reaction. "Indeed," he confirmed. "The Book of the Known, in its original form, was like an encyclopedia of stolen energy. It contained the essence of magic and much more. Its purpose was to hold the world's power for one to control."

A gasp escaped Charles's lips as he contemplated the implications of such a book.

"And what about the other books, like the green and blue ones?" Charles inquired.

Maze nodded; his gaze fixed on the green book now cradled in Charles's hands. "The Book of the Known could not contain all of its power. And so, the excess energy leaked out, tearing the ground where the book was created asunder. From the excess of Dread Ink, the first twelve books were crafted, and they became known as the Sky chapters, with covers of blue."

Charles leaned forward, his fingers tracing the green covers of the book in his hands.

"Later on, twenty-four lesser tomes were created," Maze continued. "They are known as the Earthen volumes." He pointed toward the green book. "The Ink used in these green volumes is a diluted version of the original Sky chapters. They can perform similar feats, but they come with a little downside of being unpredictable."

A grin spread across Charles's face as he ran his finger along the spine of the enchanted tome. He felt a surge of excitement and anticipation building within him.

"You will look after this time for me for a while, until I recover," Maze instructed. "During that time, I will teach you how to access the events recorded within its pages. These events are essentially copied phenomena or ancient magics noted down within the book. Each book has references within its pages that guide you on how to recreate spells or phenomena. You simply place your hand on the correct section of the book and focus your mind."

Charles's eyes sparkled with newfound determination and curiosity. The world of magic lay before him, waiting to be explored, and he couldn't help but feel grateful for the opportunity.

“Let’s try something easy to start off with,” Maze said. “Turn to page ninety-seven and place your hand on the symbol on the circular rune.”

Charles eagerly flipped open the green book, its pages coming alive with words and illustrations as he searched for the designated section. He found page ninety-seven and placed his hand on the symbol of the circular rune.

Maze placed the empty bowls in front of Charles, signalling him to proceed. "Now, look at the two bowls and keep your hand on the page," Maze instructed. "Repeat after me: Renew!"

Charles followed Maze's lead.

"Renew," he uttered, his eyes fixed on the bowls before him.

Instantly, the bowls shimmered with a soft glow as a clear orb of liquid materialised and glistened over their surfaces. Within a matter of seconds, the liquid began to bubble and churn, effectively cleansing the bowls and removing any traces of leftover food.

Charles's grin widened as he picked up the two clean bowls and marvelled at their perfect surfaces. "Woah! That was fast," he said, grinning.Maze nodded approvingly, but his gaze directed Charles's attention back to the book. With a hint of weariness, Charles shifted his focus and noticed that the circular rune he had just used had vanished from the page, despite his fingers still resting on it.

Confusion creased his brow as he flipped the page over, searching for answers. "The other drawings and words are still here, but where's the one I just use go?"

Maze's smile held a touch of knowing.

"Once you copy an event, there is a period of rest required before the spell can be used again," he explained. Charles's recognition flickered, his mind drawing connections to the games he used to play back at home. "The green books, unfortunately, have a more delicate temperament compared to the forgiving nature of the Sky Chapters."

Charles nodded, understanding the nuances of the green book's magic.

"And what of the Red book?" he asked.

A flicker of genuine fear briefly crossed Maze's eyes before he composed himself enough to respond. "That's a different matter altogether," he confessed. "The Book of the Known continues to absorb phenomena and power. Its temperament is beyond my grasp."