And make sure you draw each one slowly and with clear intent.

Those were the words Kamara left me with before kicking me out of the observatory. Yep. Redraw the same diagram 500 times in one day, and make sure you put your heart into it, Kip! I almost think she’s messing with me, that this is some sick joke she’s playing.

Then again, I recall what Milo said about how slowly training progresses in the early stages after one’s Awakening. I get that I probably have to learn how to make these sigil things flawlessly before I can make scrolls work, but do I really have to practice by drawing the exact same diagram? At least let me change it up a little.

“Are you still drawing those things?” Mother asks as she places a wooden create on the counter beside me.

“Yeah, but only when there are no customers. Kamara said she wants them all done by tomorrow, and that she’d be checking to make sure I did them all.”

“Is that so? How many have you finished?” She’s finally accepted that I’m not going to take time away from the shop to pursue my learning, especially my master is only going to be around for a month or two.

“I’ve got about 180 done,” I say, nodding to my pack, where I’ve stored every completed diagram so far. Kamara insisted that they be done on individual pieces of paper, so I expect to have a full tome by the time I’m done.

“In that case, I’ll get the next order ready. You’ve got a long way to go.” She moves to grab the crate, but I get to it first and snatch it away from her.

“Fulfilling orders has always been my responsibility, and I want to keep it that way. Besides, I could use the break; my neck is killing me.”

Mother tries to refuse, but she knows she won’t win. I’m far too stubborn, and the idea of lessening my workload for the sake of my studies bothers me greatly. I don’t know why exactly; I used to be so lazy back on Earth. Maybe it has to do with actually having a real family this time around, and being grateful for everything they’ve done for me. I’m sure that being a teenager mentally while growing up gave me a different perspective and appreciation for their parental sacrifices.

I manage to complete 23 more pages before the workday ends and the shop is closed for the day. That leaves me with 297 more to go; an intimidating number because the day is more than halfway gone. Well, nothing to do but power through it.

I consider staying in the shop to finish the remaining pages, but I could use a change of scenery. Besides, I’d have to go back for dinner, which shouldn’t be too far away.

When Mother and I return home, we find that Father is already inside, and he’s started making dinner on his own. He must have had little trouble selling his logs in Gasdon today because he’s usually never back this early.

While they embrace each other after a long day of work, I plop down at the dinner table and pull out a blank paper and a pen. There’s no time to waste, and at this point I can draw Kamara’s diagram from memory, having repeated it so many times.

I get about halfway through the first page when I hear Bren’s familiar foot stomps coming toward us, and I soon have a toy wooden sword swinging by my head. “Fight me, Kip!” Bren calls out as he slashes the sword at the air between us. “Fight meeeeee!”

Maybe I should’ve stayed in the shop after all…

“Bren, leave Kip alone,” Syra says, her voice catching me off guard. Bren’s stomping must’ve masked her arrival. “He’s doing something important.”

The little runt shoves his face in between me and the paper. “This doesn’t look important. He’s just drawing.”

“I’m learning how to do magic,” I say, immediately regretting the words that just came out of my mouth. That’s only going to make him more curious.

“Huh? If this is magic, I wanna learn, too!”

I sigh, really wishing I’d stayed back in the peace and quiet of the shop. He isn’t gonna let up now, so I might as well get this over with before dinner. “I’m drawing something that’s going to turn into a spell. Want to learn it with me?”

Bren flashes a wicked smile, dropping his toy sword on the table. “Yes! I wanna learn!”

“And how about you, Syra? Do you want to learn, as well? I can show you with a pen if you’d like.”

Her face lights up, too. “Only if it doesn’t bother you.”

Well, I wasn’t planning on this, but I can spare a little time for them. I can just lock myself in my room after dinner and get my remaining work done, anyway.

“Okay, guys. Have a seat beside me.” I pull out a blank piece of paper and pen for each of them from my pack, placing them in front of my temporary trainees.

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Bren immediately picks up his pen. “Oh, show me first, Kip.”

“Okay, okay. All you have to do is redraw this picture, but you have to do it slowly or else it won’t work. That’s what my master said.” Upon showing him one of my completed diagrams, he quickly starts drawing on his blank page.

“Now it’s your turn, Syra. I’ll show you the diagram by drawing it with you.” Reaching over her shoulder, I place the pen in her hand. Then I guide her hand slowly across the page as we work through the drawing together. Of course, being blind prevents her from seeing the page, but I still want her to get a sense of what her big brother is working on. When you’re Unawakened like her, you often feel left behind, curious about what it is exactly those who’ve Awakened do to train.

“All done!” Bren calls out, proudly showing me his creation. It doesn’t look bad, but it’s clearly done with the impatience and lack of dexterity you’d expect from a young child. “I wanna try another one.” Reaching into my pack without asking, he pulls out a blank page and starts a new picture. He gets about a fifth of the way through this one before dropping the pen and getting out of his chair. “Okay, this is boring now. I’m gonna play with my sword instead.” He grabs the toy weapon and stomps out of the kitchen, probably to fight something in his imagination.

I can’t blame him. It really does get boring quickly.

“There, we’re all done,” I say as I lift Syra’s hand off the page. “That’s all there is to it.”

She giggles. “Didn’t you say that you have to do this 500 times by tomorrow morning? Maybe I shouldn’t Awaken, after all.”

“Ah, I remember those early struggles,” Father says wistfully as he chops a tomato on the cutting board. “The beginning stages can be a real slog, but the fun comes after. It’s the price we all have to pay.”

“I suppose the price is worth it,” Syra says. “Hmmm, I wonder if I can do it on my own.” She flips the page over and starts drawing, all from memory. Even though she can’t see the marks she’s making, her hand motions are confident, and she completes the diagram almost flawlessly.

“Wow, that’s really good!” I say, happy to see how quickly she learned. Syra’s always been a quick learner, and she might even be smarter than me. Though I have a hard time giving up my title like that…

“So what is this diagram supposed to do?” she asks. “It is some kind of spell, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, but I’m not sure what it does exactly. Kamara didn’t explain it to me yet, though I hope I find out soon.”

Father clears his throat, announcing that the time for work is over. “I’m sure you will. But for now, clear the table. Food’s ready.”

Tonight’s dinner is one of my favorites: baked potatoes with a mixed vegetable salad. Though I typically take my time to enjoy the feast, I rush through it this time and kindly tell everyone not to bother me for the night. With nothing but my pen and papers, I lock myself in my room, ready to grind out the 297 diagrams that remain.

I know Kamara said to go slow and draw them with intent, but after about 30, I find myself going faster than I should. Each time I catch myself rushing, I try to rein it in, but it comes so naturally. There’s only so much monotony the human brain can take, and these drawings are really pushing me to the edge.

Despite all those struggles, I manage (with great difficulty) to complete 500 pages at some point, long after everyone else has fallen asleep. I don’t even know what time it is when I finish and I don’t care - though it’s definitely long past my usual bedtime. Hopefully, these late nights can ease up a little. I am naturally a night owl but I typically stay up to read for pleasure, not to do monotonous work.

The few hours of sleep I do manage to get feel amazing - probably because I’ve been so damn tired lately - and I’m once again out of the house before anyone else has gotten up. If my training is only going to last a month or two, I’m fully willing to do it with a messed up sleep schedule, if that’s the price I gotta pay.

When I arrive at the observatory, I find the front doors unlocked for the first time, and I’m immediately greeted by Kamara when I step inside.

“Good morning, Kip. You look like you barely slept.”

That might be because I barely slept.

“Good morning,” I say, dropping my pack to the floor and opening it. “I completed 500 page just like you said. Here, I’ll-”

“That’s not necessary,” she says, interrupting me.

“Huh? Didn’t you say that you’d want to see all the pages to make sure I did them?”

She smirks, almost devilishly. “That’s just a classic thing a master tells their pupil. But truthfully, I don’t care if you did them. You’d only be hurting yourself by trying to avoid doing the work I give you. And no offense, but if your master-pupil relationship isn’t gonna last more than two months, I’m not going to get too invested. That’s just the way it is.”

Fair enough. I guess I can’t really complain about that.

She gestures to one of the tables which, much to my surprise, has been cleaned out and left with nothing sitting atop it except a single piece of paper and a strange-looking pen. “This will be your next assignment. We’re going to do a little test.”

“A test?” Seems hardly appropriate. All I’ve done is draw one particular diagram a bunch of times. What exactly is there to test?

“That’s right. Have a seat and hold that pen.”

With a shrug, I sit at the table and pick up the strange pen. It’s thicker than a typical pen, and it’s seemingly made out of some kind of crystal, with blue-green lines running through it, almost like the lines I used to see on circuit boards back on Earth.

“That is a scribing pen. It’s the tool I used to create the three scrolls during yesterday’s demonstration.”

“Really?” I say, turning the pen and scanning it from every angle. “I’m already going to create a scroll with this?”

“That depends on whether you pass the test. I want you to redraw the diagram I gave you yesterday with it. Go ahead.”

“Okay.” I place the tip of the pen on the blank page before me and make my first mark, but nothing shows up. I shake the pen and try again, but there’s still nothing coming out of it. “I think it’s out of ink.”

Kamara chuckles, the way you do when a toddler does something amusing. “It’s a scribing pen. It doesn’t use ink.”

“Then how do I-”

“Just draw the diagram, ink or no ink. Trust me.”

Well, that’s annoying. Then again, if Syra can repeat it almost flawlessly after doing it just once, I should be able to do this.

Feeling silly the whole time, I complete the ghost drawing. “All done. Now what?”

“Did you feel anything?” Kamara asks, taking the pen from me.

“Nothing unusual. Was that the test?”

She shakes her head. “Repeat the exercise one more time.” She returns the pen to me and places a beige paper on the table, just like the ones she used to cast the three spells yesterday. “This one will be the real test. Go ahead.”