Armad had spent three days in Seith.

He thought about all the things that had happened, and the thing he couldn't forget was Áyúbu of the Perpetual Damage.

He took a paper and wrote 'Áyúbu' in capital letters.

Knock. Knock.

"Come in." He said.

"Are you ready?" Iliyasis asked as he walked inside. Armad nodded. He had been ready for several hours.

"Let's go then."

It was still four o'clock in the morning, the morning breeze blew his headband as they walked down the empty alley.

"Are you sure you want to use your only chance on a spell or a sword you don't even know?" Iliyasis asked.

Armad nodded. He had already made up his mind.

Even from a distance, Armad could see the walls of the Non-touch World, extending hundreds of miles into the sky, and in both directions.

Iliyasis pointed at a massive black gate at the centre of the wall. "The Non-touch World is beyond that black gate. The surrounding wall was built by King Mikrom but anything beyond the wall is from the Old World, before The Descent. They open it once every year."

Even though, it was early in the morning, there were people in front of the gate. People came from all over the world to gain enlightenment in the Non-touch World. Every mage had only one chance in their lifetime. Armad never expected himself to enter one so soon, but as a friend of the Duchess, anything was possible.

At first nobody paid them any heed, but from the way they casually approached the officers guarding the gate, the surrounding people noticed them.

"Commoners aren't allowed near that thing, only those with a royal pass can enter. Who are they?"

"That one looks familar, I think I have seen him somewhere."

"Yeah, he looks familiar but I can't remember where I have seen him."

The guards collected their pass and opened the gates for them. Before any of the audience could react, Armad and Iliyasis were already inside.

Armad was surprised again, he'd expected to see something, maybe a monument or a dungeon or something, but there was nothing. Only himself, Iliyasis and an empty void. The void had a uniform appearance and a feeling of profound ancientness.

"The Non-touch World is different: it's part of the Old World. You might have heard a lot of things about it but you have to be very careful. Anything that happens after you have stepped into the next door will forever remain in your soul." Iliyasis explained.

Armad grimaced. There was no any other door except the one that had just closed behind them.

"Close your eyes and walk seven steps northwards. You will see the door when you open your eyes. The real deal begin from there. You will see a casket. Enter the casket and closed it. Your soul will move out of your body and take you to the real Non-touch World. Remember, time is not on your side. You will need at least... ten years to gain enlightenment."

Armad looked at him with wide eyes, uncertain about what he'd just heard.

"What did you just said? I don't even have one year."

"Wait, lemme die before you bury me. You need ten years in the Non-touch World, but how long do you need in the real world outside?

"This place is different: a single day outside is roughly one hundred and twenty days here. Every three days outside is equivalent to a year here, and vice-versa. If you spend ten years in this place, it will only be a month outside.

"This is an opportunity for you. Only Mikrom offers its Non-touch World to foreigners. If you messed up, you will never get another chance. I will advice using this chance to awaken your Djinn, but if you think your spells and swords are more important, then go on. I'll wait here for your success."

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

Iliyasis found a seat and closed his eyes. Armad, my sister has a lot of hope for you. She has never been so eager to help someone. Let's see if you are worthy.

Armad closed his eyes and walked the first seven steps. When he opened his eyes, he saw the door. Another black, obsidian steel. He pushed it open and stepped inside.

The world beyond was also an empty void, but its feeling of ancientness was far more profound than the first, as if it had been there for eons.

The first thing Armad saw was the casket. He opened it and laid inside like a real corpse.

The casket closed itself and the last thing Armad heard was the bang of its metallic cover.

A bodiless figure that looked exactly like Armad climbed out of the casket. Even its movements were that of Armad, if you didn't touch it you might think it was him.

The bodiless figure was Armad's soul and, as part of the casket's wisdom, it had all the knowledge needed to operate the Non-touch World.

As it came out, it closed its eyes and walked forty steps in the southeast direction. Each step fourteen centimeters.

It opened its eyes and waited for exactly fourteen seconds before it closed its right eye and turned southwest. It walked twenty steps. Each step fourteen centimeters. Then it opened its right eye and closed the left eye. It waited for another fourteen seconds before it turned northeast and walked another twenty steps. Each step fourteen centimeters. And then lastly, it turned northwest and closed both eyes. It waited for another fourteen seconds before it walked forty steps. Each step fourteen centimeters.

It opened its eyes and stood there for a long time.

Nothing happened, the world remained as it was.

The soul waited. After an undetermined period, it sat down cross-legged, and continued to wait.

A week passed. Nothing happened. The soul waited patiently.

One month, two months, three months... one year... Time passed slowly.

The soul waited there for three years. During these three years, the soul had never dozed off, it hadn't even blinked.

One sunny Monday, fourteenth of Yuri (the third month of the Alderian calendar), clouds formed in the sky and it rained.

The rain continued for three days, but the soul didn't budge an inch.

Three days after the rain had stopped, the entire dimension shook violently until craters appeared in the ground.

When the shaking stopped and the dust settled, six caskets appeared in front of the soul.

They opened at the same time to reveal their contents to the soul.

The first one on the right had a small bronze pot filled with lightning bolts. The name 'Lightning Bolt' was written in Aldurish at the centre of the casket.

The second casket from the right had a blue flash representing the Lightning Flash spell.

The third casket from the right had a small green leaf representing Meditation.

The fourth one from the right had a small book, the size of a hand. The name of the book was either poorly written or it had been erased by the passage time.

The fifth and sixth caskets had small, unremarkable swords, representing his two swords - Dance of uncertainty and Yellow Dance.

The soul moved for the first time in three years. It walked toward the six caskets and stopped when it was a meter away. Then it pierced its chest with its left hand. It searched for something inside the chest.

After a while, it found a drop of blood.

In a surprising turn of events, the contents of the six caskets started shaking, desperately wanting to escape from their hold and reached out to that drop of blood.

After half an hour, the book broke its shackles and flew out of the casket to land on the soul.

As soon as that happened, the five remaining caskets moved. They slowly faded away and disappeared as if they'd never been there.

The blood on the soul's fingers disappeared into the book. The name of the book - whatever that was - changed to 'Armad Wilberforce'. It was now clear; anyone could read it.

The Non-touch World slowly faded away. The soul and the casket carrying its body returned to the first compartment where it had left Iliyasis.

Iliyasis had been waiting there for ten days. He looked at the soul and the book in its hands. A book? What exactly is going on? Iliyasis mused.

Instead of going back into the casket, the soul found a seat and meditated. After a while, the book glowed brightly and then it transformed into a sword. Even more surprising was that Armad's name was written boldly on one side of the blade.

The hilt was riddled with spells and on the other side of the blade there was another writing reading Saif Iqra. Besides this, the steel looked ordinary.

Iliyasis looked on in shock. He didn't know what sword that was, but he'd seen a book transformed into a sword. And that wasn't just any transformation, it was the FIRST WRITERS' SPELL. He knew it because of his Djinn.

This spell originated from the Old World. The mages who pioneered spell writing used this technique to transform their writings into reality, and reality into writing. If they wrote 'sword' then a sword would appear, if they wrote 'spear' then a spear would appear. Conversely, they could even transform living things into writings. It was ridiculous, but the scriptures said they could transform anyone into his name.

Iliyasis could be the only one alive who believed this, and this was because his Djinn had similar abilities.

Iliyasis had been waiting for ten days but Armad's soul had spent three years in the Non-touch World. During that period, Iliyasis had been sitting cross-legged without even blinking. Right now, the blade in the soul's hand shone brightly. Iliyasis squinted his eyes but the light was blinding. He'd to block it with his hand.

After a minute, the light slowly faded away. Iliyasis opened his eyes to see Armad standing in front of him. The casket, the soul and the sword were gone. Only Armad and his new book remained.

Even though, they were several meters apart, Iliyasis could feel the great longevity reverberating from the book in Armad's hand.

He knew Armad was successful. What could possibly be hiding in that book? Where did the sword go?