As Vac sat in the room provided to him, he racked his brain to figure out what Vesta wanted him to do.

‘Why exactly can't I get this stupid thing to work? And why does it matter that I can't make a tiny flame? Who the hell needs one?’

As he flopped about on the cot in irritation, he noticed something fall out of his pocket. It was a mana gem, one that Medea had given him before. The sight of it brought him back to a conversation he'd had with her.

He'd been asking her for tips on how to improve his technique for a while. After it seemed he'd hit a roadblock. Medea took a different approach and then asked, “Do you know how we make mana gems?”

When Vac shook his head in response, confused, she smiled and said, “We cut away at simple mana rocks, carefully removing impurities and honing them until they shine like jewels. In a similar manner, you must cut away the ‘impurities’, that is, stray thoughts, and ‘hone’ yourself, focusing on what you seem to do. An unsharpened rock is naught but that, whereas a sharpened one is a blade.”

He hadn't had much time to consider and work on what she'd said since not long after King Pyrrhus had called them in for the battle to reclaim that city.

As he considered how to go about it, his grandma entered the room with a smile on her face. She'd been spending her time talking with Vesta, and looked as pleased as she could get. Vac grumbled and said, “Had fun talking to her? What do you like about her anyways? All she does is say cryptic stuff and sit around.”

Morta ruffled his hair and said, “Don't be a brat. Lady Vesta is wise. As the stories say. She was the first maiden goddess, and her path offered a way for those women uninterested in marriage. When the thirteen gods were sent a gift of twelve grand thrones by a mortal king, she chose to step aside and let Bacchus, a minor god, take over. Can you imagine that? One of the six major gods chose to step aside for a minor god, the ones who are barely remembered today. And also…”

Morta paused for a moment, and then with a rueful smile continued, “I once thought about becoming a priestess of the flame, a Vestal Virgin myself, you know.”

Vac sputtered as he stood up and exclaimed, “But you're a follower of Jupiter!”

Morta smiled and said, “The faith of the flame is the only one which allows all to join, so long as one stays true to their vows. And back then, we could still move freely from Aeolia to down here and back. I was young then, but a child, like you.”

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Vac grumbled and said, “I'm not a child, I'm already…”

‘Wait, how old am I now? I was seventeen, but I wasn't far off from my birthday. And quite some time has passed.’

Morta smiled and said, “You're wondering how old you are, aren't you? You're not quite eighteen yet, Vac. About ten days left, in fact. Though even past then, you'll still be a child to me.”

Vac smiled to himself as he grumbled about it, and then shook his head and asked, “Wait, that's not the point, Granny. You said you wanted to join the Vestal Virgins. So why'd you change your mind?”

Morta answered, “Oh, I was hesitant of course, since I'd had to leave Aeolia, which was my home. As Last Vesta says, the home is what matters most, for it is our anchor to this world. I wasn't quite ready to choose a new home just yet. And then the Romans attacked, by which point there were far bigger things to worry about.”

By the tone of her voice and her wistful voice, he could tell she still held some second thoughts about her hesitation back then.

Morta shook her head and asked, “Oh, enough of that, now what were you doing?”

After Vac explained, she smiled and said, “Have you tried meditating? I did teach you, remember? It is a sacred practice of followers of Jupiter. It was said some could meditate so strongly they could ascend to Olympus, freeing themselves of their mortal tether.”

‘Ah, right. That had been a long time ago.’

With nothing else to do, he gave it a try. As he closed his eyes, took up the cross-legged position and began to meditate, random thoughts about Medea, about his path forward, about his grandma, and all other matters floated in him, breaking his concentration.

Morta spoke in a gentle voice, “Don't get bogged down by those stray thoughts and distractions, Vac. You are more than your worries and anxieties. Let them flow past you, throw them to the wind. Focus on what you seek to do. What is that?”

‘I want to make this damn ball of fire on my finger.’

With that, his eyes flew open and he snapped his fingers while holding the die in his other hand, the face of Vesta against that palm. And then, as he'd hoped, a small ball of fire sat at the tip of his finger, a gentle hope for the future.

“Hell yeah!”

It was larger than the flame Vesta had shown him, but he didn't care. He'd done it. After spending some time practicing, he rushed down to show it to Vesta. She didn't look particularly surprised as she nodded, an enigmatic smile on her face.

“Well done. I thought it might take you longer, but it seems you know how to listen to those around you. Here's your next lesson.”

As Vac moved closer to observe carefully, she created a ball of fire like before, and tossed it at his face with a flick of the wrist. Catching him off guard, it struck, making him yelp as he stumbled backwards.

‘It hurts! No wait, it doesn't?’

Vac stood up as he realized it hadn't burnt him one bit.

Vesta chuckled and said, “What an amusing sight. Now, this is the second lesson, and maybe the hardest. The creator of the flame must have absolute mastery over it, even the ability to choose whom it hurts. And to do so, you must deal with your own anxiety and fear, along with the focus needed for the first task. Then you will be able to touch your own flame without getting hurt.”