Once we touched down in Zurich, I immediately felt the difference. The air here was fresher, like it had been perfectly chilled. It was like heaven after sweating in Italy. Venice was cooler than Sicily or Rome, but it still had that sticky humidity that clung to you like an annoying cousin who wouldn’t give up. Zurich was perfect—warm enough to remind you it was summer, but cool enough that I didn’t feel like I was about to melt into a puddle. The sky was this bright, clear blue, with just a few clouds hanging out like they had nowhere better to be. It was a relief to finally breathe without feeling like I was inhaling soup. It was the kind of weather where you could walk around all day without turning into a sweaty mess.

After we checked into the hotel, I turned to Lis and said, “Something weird happened. The Guidance offered me the Bard Class.”

Lis gave me a curious look, raising an eyebrow. “Congratulations. But why is it weird?”

I shrugged and settled in on the couch. “Because I bought all my instrument-playing skills from the Guidance. I didn’t learn them the ‘hard way.’”

He sighed and shook his head, looking non-too pleased with me. “Why did you buy them instead of learning?”

“Because music lessons take forever, and I had other things to do,” I replied, waving a hand dismissively.

“So, what’s the criterion for getting the class?”

“How should I know? It always surprises me.”

He leaned forward, giving me a pointed look. “You didn’t get what I meant. When the Guidance offers a class, the first sentence explains what criteria you met to get it. So, what did it say?”

“Oh, got it,” I said, realizing what he was getting at. I channeled mana and popped up the class screen so he could see it.

Lis studied the screen for a moment before nodding. “You didn’t get the class because of your musical skills; I don’t see any problem with that,” he pointed out.

“Huh, you’re right,” I admitted, rubbing my chin. “I like this class, but I learned my lesson with the fighting class; I won’t take it unless I can get it for free. Any ideas on how to make that happen?” I asked, looking at him hopefully.

“First, actually learn to play,” Lis said, raising an eyebrow as if it was the most obvious solution.

“But I already bought the skills from the system,” I protested, frowning.

“Did you buy every instrument in the world?” he asked, giving me a knowing look.

“No…” I replied, dragging out the word, realizing where he was going with this.

“Then learn to play something you didn’t buy,” he suggested in a matter-of-fact tone.

“Thanks, Sensei,” I said with a grin. “I’m dreading the day you won’t be around to answer my million questions anymore,” I added, trying to keep the mood light.

“I trust you’ll figure it out. You were doing fine even before you met me,” Lis said, giving me a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

We found Mahya a lawyer who specialized in business contracts. After meeting with him, she told us it would take a few weeks.

Lis got busy working with the E-foil. Mahya had the idea of creating permanent mosaic spell circles and borrowed some books from Lis. Meanwhile, I watched a bunch of YouTube videos and settled on the cello and clarinet. I found three different cello teachers and packed my day with lessons from nine in the morning until eight in the evening. In total, I had nine cello lessons a day. I also told all the teachers I was studying with others so they could coordinate the lessons, ensuring I wasn’t learning the same thing repeatedly. After two weeks of intensive lessons, I got the ability. I kept up with the lessons and reached level 3.

Mahya arrived at the hotel later than us, looking frustrated. “The deal got delayed,” she announced, running a hand through her hair. “Looks like it’s going to take longer than I expected.”

Lis glanced up from the E-foil part he was tinkering with, eyebrows raised. “How long are we talking about?”

“At least another two weeks, maybe longer,” Mahya replied, sighing as she sank into a chair. “The lawyer said there are some last-minute issues to sort out.”

I nodded, understanding her frustration. “That’s a pain, but it’s better to get it done right than rushed.”

Lis, ever the practical one, leaned forward. “In the meantime, we should find a place to put your house,” he suggested, looking at me. “I need to try some things, and it’d be better to do that in a spot where nothing would get damaged.”

I nodded.

“And don’t forget,” Lis added, giving me a pointed look, “you still need to build that ranged spell.”

I sighed, rubbing the back of my neck. “Yeah, I know. It’s on my to-do list.”

We found a farm for sale in the village of Mettmenstetten, Switzerland, rented it for a month, placed my house there, and then Lis went back to tinkering with the E-foil. Mahya started laying down spell mosaics, and I dove back into studying the book Action Aspects for Spell Creation.

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The whole action aspect was based on intention, and the intention had to be precise and sharp, with no extra fluff, or the spell would act strange. The book had no exercises, so I had to figure things out independently.

After finishing the book, which didn’t take long since it was tiny, I started trying to think of exercises to train my intention, but I couldn’t think of any. I thought about asking Lis, but reminded myself that I needed to learn to handle things on my own.

In the end, I started practicing with the fire spell I built.

Despite their claim that the spell practice room had protection, I wasn’t willing to take the risk of turning the place into a bonfire. So, with all the seriousness of a wannabe wizard trying not to burn down his house, I filled a bucket with water. Then, I built the outer shell of the spell, half-filled it with the aspect of fire, and infused it with the intention of flying. I kept the intention as pure as possible—“fly,” nice and simple.

Well, the spell had other ideas. The moment I closed the shell, it shot out of my hand like a rogue firecracker on a mission, zooming all over the room with the enthusiasm of a kid on too much sugar. Panic set in as I imagined it hitting the wall and turning the whole place into a barbecue. I grabbed the bucket with one hand and a fly swatter with the other, like some deranged janitor trying to catch a bat.

The spell was having none of it. It zipped around, narrowly missing Lis’s head, causing him to dive behind the pedestal like he was dodging bullets. Mahya yelped and did a very graceful—if not slightly exaggerated—somersault out of its path. I was running in circles, waving the swatter like a maniac, trying to whack the spell into submission.

But no dice. The little bugger was too fast. Just as I was about to give up and accept my fate as the guy who torched his house, the spell ran out of flying mana and dropped like a rock. With one last desperate lunge, I positioned the bucket underneath, and it plopped in with a sizzle. Steam rose from the bucket, and I stood there panting, feeling like I’d just wrestled a dragon.

As I stood there, panting and clutching the bucket, I couldn’t help but think about how much my life had changed. A few years ago, I would have been worried about getting enough sleep between shifts and working enough to provide Sophie with the lifestyle she was used to, not chasing rogue spells around a magic-proof room.

Funny how life turns out.

Mahya was lying on the floor, laughing so hard she was kicking her legs in the air like a toddler throwing a tantrum, and Lis was clutching his belly, tears streaming down his face. At first, their laughter at my misfortune annoyed me, but after a moment, the absurdity of it all hit me, and I started laughing too. For a few minutes, we just laughed nonstop, the kind of laughter that leaves you gasping for breath and wondering if you’ll ever stop.

I needed that.

I knew this spell was a disaster waiting to happen, but sometimes, you’ve just got to throw caution to the wind—or, in this case, into a bucket of water. There’s something to be said about learning through sheer panic, though I couldn’t quite decide if it was a good or bad thing.

I thought about what I had done wrong and decided that I had probably filled it with too much flying mana and that one aspect alone wasn’t enough. I added a bit of the flying aspect and a bit of staying put so that the spell wouldn’t escape me again.

It was more complicated than I thought. If I added more intent to stay, the spell didn’t go anywhere, no matter what I tried. If I added more intent to fly, the spell would fly and crash somewhere. I stopped using the bucket because Lis assured me that my little dart couldn’t damage the room.

After I almost depleted my mana, I went outside to regenerate. I didn’t want to take mana from my baby core. At least my core consumed my eight thousand mana; I could almost imagine it burping after the meal.

Since I had no idea how to proceed, I went to cook. My mind worked better when my hands were busy, and that was when the best ideas came to me. Cooking had always been my refuge. There was something about the rhythm of chopping, stirring, and seasoning that brought order to chaos. It made me wonder if spellcasting was just another form of cooking—following a recipe, tweaking ingredients, hoping it doesn’t blow up in your face. I started cooking and used telekinesis to learn the spell better and see why it listened to me while my dart didn’t.

I cut all the ingredients manually. Not wanting to take any chances with flying knives. But I brought everything else to me with telekinesis—filling water from the tap, placing pots on the burners, and activating the hot plates for cooking. The spell listened to me and did exactly what I wanted. I could sense some other aspects there but couldn’t identify them—their “flavor” was unlike anything I’d encountered before.

I figured I was probably missing some information and should keep searching the books. The next day, when my mana was full, I started going through books, spending a thousand mana on each one, but I found nothing. I signed up for some workshops since it took twelve and a half hours for my mana to refill, and it felt like a waste of time to do nothing in the meantime. I asked Lis and Mahya if they wanted to join, but they were too busy with their projects and turned me down.

* Scuba & Snorkeling Lesson

Eight books later, still no answer.

* Turicum Gin Lab

I had to call a cab home. I was too wasted to drive. The next day, eight books, still no answer.

* Havana Dance

Eight books, still no answer.

* Amplifying Impact with AI: Non-Profit Workshop

Eight books, still no answer.

* Create Your Sustainable Home

Eight books, still no answer.

* How to Solder

For this workshop, Lis and Mahya joined me, and Lis even decided to build a soldering device that works on mana. Mahya and I told him not to think about it before he finishes the E-foils. He gave us the evil eye but agreed.

After another eight books, I still didn’t find an answer. By now, I probably knew fifty languages or something.

* Swiss Ski Experience in the Jungfrau Region

I always wanted to learn to ski, but I still didn’t find an answer.

* Zurichberg Watch Journey - Explore Real Watchmaking

Still no answer.

* Basic Course: Making Your Own Glass Beads

I ran out of workshops and convinced Lis and Mahya to visit the Lindt Home of Chocolate Museum. Once they heard the word “chocolate,” I didn’t have to work very hard.

We bought even more chocolate, but I still didn’t find an answer.

I took a Mount Titlis Day Tour with just Rue; at least he was always up for anything I wanted to do. He loved the Rotair revolving cable car and wanted to ride it repeatedly.

Finally, I found a promising book, The Higher Echelon of Aspects—The Mark of a True Wizard. And I earned another nine points.

I was planning to study it when Mahya burst into the house and informed us that the deal closed for two million euros and that we were going out to celebrate. I hugged and congratulated her, and we headed out for dinner and drinks to celebrate.

We somehow made it back home, though none of us knew how, and we hoped we had done nothing magical in the city.