It felt like we had been walking for hours, but there was no way to tell. All we encountered was darkness, and I was starting to question if we were actually making any progress. For all I knew, we could have been going around in circles.

"Ca-aw," Zosimos croaked. "Caw."

"No, you're right," I said, shaking my head. "I don’t think we’ve gotten anywhere either."

"Caw."

I scowled at him. "Don't you take that tone with me," I said, poking his side. He squawked in protest, glaring at me. "It’s not like I wanted to be here either."

Zosimos fluffed out his feathers giving another snide caw.

"You've gotten rather mouthy since your transformation back into a crow, Zos. What happened to the obedient, mute swan who followed me around the temple? That was so much nicer."

"Ca-a-aw!" he exclaimed, flapping his wings in agitation and biting my ear.

"Ow! Ow, ow, okay, alright." I said, reaching up trying to stop him from mauling me further. "I was just teasing. You know I like you better as a crow!"

"Caw."

"Yeah, I know," I huffed, rubbing my aching ear. "I get that Tris was aiming for the whole, birds of alchemy symbolism thing, but you have to admit, the swan wasn't very practical. It will be much better once you become a Phoenix." He pecked my hand and I yelped, pulling it back.

"Ca-aw." He cawed in protest. "Ca- ah-aw."

"That's not true, Zos." I assured him. "You'd still be a magnificent Phoenix, even if you aren't the only firebird in the sky." He did have a point, however, that with the creation of the Pyrthirío, the skies around Pyros mountain were now filled with firebirds, which as Zosimos pointed out made being a Phoenix seem less special.

"Caw-ah."

"Well, that's an argument you need to take up with Tris," I flicked his beak, "But, I will help you plead your case to our patron if that is truly what you wish."

Zosimos tilted his head, his pupils expanding and contracting as he stared at me, then he crooned softly, a low questioning sound. "Cree-u?"

"Of course I will. But only because you're my favorite pet," I added, reaching up and scratching the feathers on his head.

"Kraah!"

"Yes, yes, I know. You're not a pet, you're a familiar." Still technically a pet though, I added silently.

He crooned happily at that, his feathers ruffling slightly.

"Back to the matter at hand, we need to come up with a plan of action," I said, redirecting the conversation. "And preferably before Tris comes up with another ridiculous trial. That would be just like him, making the task harder to punish me for complaining or not completing it on time. He's such a bully."

"Caw."

"Yeah, he is," I agreed, "I don't know why I put up with him. I'm sure I could find a better patron. I've heard Vēdiovis is kind to his clergy." That was a blatant lie. Icarus, the high priest of Vēdiovis, had told me about a few of the challenges the light god had set him and it sounded as if he was a worse bully than Tris. But still, if anything would get Tris' attention, that would.

I waited, but the god did not answer, not that I had expected him to. Oh, well, it was worth a shot. "Well, we're no worse off than we were before, I guess."

Zosimos crooned softly, nuzzling his head against my cheek. "Caw."

"Alright, no use standing around moping," I said, stroking his feathers. "Let's try something else... Walking isn't getting us anywhere and, if I am honest, I don't know why I thought it would."

"Caw-u, kree-ah."

"Yes, I know it was a dumb idea," I said with a sigh. "But it's not like we have any other ideas, now, do we?"

Zosimos gave another caw, pointing his beak towards the flower in my hand. "Kraw-u."

"That much is obvious," I muttered, twirling the flower in my fingers. "The real question is, what is the meaning of the Lycoris flower? What message was Tris attempting to convey?"

Sighing, I looked down at the Lycoris I held, examining it more closely. The flower’s bright crimson petals stretched out in delicate, fiery tendrils, resembling a burst of red fireworks frozen in time. Each petal was slender and wavy, with long, thread-like stamens extending outward, like the legs of a spider—hence the common name; Spider lily. The flower stood tall on a slender, leafless stem, which ended in a spherical bulb that was covered in a papery tunic.

Aside from the fact the petals were emitting a soft light, there was nothing particularly special about the flower, at least not as far as I could tell.

"There must be some meaning behind the appearance of this flower, but what?" I mused aloud. The words of the song the Lycoris had appeared with echoed through my mind, and I found myself singing the English lyrics of the song softly under my breath.

"While you live, shine bright,

Don't let sorrow you benight,

We don't have life long, my friend,

To everything, time demands an end."

My mother had been the one to teach me the song. I had learned the lyrics and melody on the lyre first, then the more modern harp and later on the violin.

Was that the message I was meant to receive? A warning, a premonition of death and loss? Or perhaps, a reminder to live life to the fullest, to take each moment as it comes and savor every experience?

What if the darkness surrounding me was a reflection of my lost sanity? Perhaps the song was Tris’ way of reminding me to take care of myself. Or maybe it was a warning that time had come to demand its due? Had it been his way of telling me that my life was nearing its end? A farewell? Was it an omen of my approaching death? Or maybe it was simply a reminder of the fleeting nature of life and the importance of living each moment fully?

I was acutely aware of my mental and emotional deterioration, as well as the impact of the physical and psychological trauma I had endured. Each passing day seemed to erode more of my sense of self, and a persistent fear gnawed at me. What if this place was merely a manifestation of my unraveling sanity?

"Caw," Zosimos’ nipped at my ear, tugging in a gentle reprimand.

“It’s finally happening, isn’t it, Zos?” I whispered, the words slipping out before I could stop them. “I’ve been noticing it getting worse over the past few weeks. I keep losing track of time, drifting away in my thoughts, forgetting where I am or what I’m doing.” I closed my eyes, struggling to keep the tears at bay. “I’m so exhausted, Zos, and I don’t know how much longer I can keep going like this. Sometimes, I’m not even sure if I want to…” My voice trailed off, and I swallowed, trying to force down the well of emotion attempting to rise within me.

I'd been doing my best, fighting to keep up appearances, pushing aside my worries and focusing on the tasks at hand. But now, in the stillness of the void, with no distractions or responsibilities, I couldn't hold it in any longer. The exhaustion had seeped into every part of my being, eroding my resilience. The constant battle to maintain my facade of strength, the effort to appear strong and in control, was draining me of what little energy I had left.

The only moments when I felt at ease were those spent immersed in potion-making or research, where my focus could narrow to that singular thing. It was in those moments of hyper fixation that I could momentarily push aside the pain and anxiety, losing myself in the work. But now, in this desolate place, there was no such distraction.

Zosimos cawed sharply, his beak nipping harsher now. "Yes, I suppose I am overthinking things," I admitted softly, my lips curling into a small smile. He was right. If I had truly lost my mind, how did I possess this level of self-awareness and clarity?

The idea seemed paradoxical. Losing my grip on reality would likely mean losing the ability to question my sanity, to reflect on my deteriorating state with this level of insight. And yet, here I was, acutely aware of myself, able to articulate my fears with unnerving precision. It felt as though I was teetering on the edge of a chasm, gazing into the abyss while simultaneously holding onto a tether that was anchored to my sanity. The thought was both unsettling and oddly reassuring. Perhaps my ability to understand and confront my own mind was a sign that I still had a foothold in reality, that there was a part of me that could still navigate through the fog of confusion.

“I guess,” I said softly, “maybe being aware of my own madness is a kind of clarity in itself. I don’t know what’s ahead, but as long as I can still question and reflect, perhaps I’m not entirely lost.”

"Caw." Zosimos’ beak nipped at my ear again, a gentle reminder I wasn't alone, that he was here with me.

As if in agreement with the bird, the Lycoris' glowed brighter, its warmth spreading through my entire body and drawing my attention back to it. There was something odd about the flower, something I couldn’t quite place.

"Am I completely overthinking this?" I asked. "Perhaps there is a simple explanation, an obvious answer staring me in the face, but I'm missing it."

"Ca-aw."

"No need to be nasty," I huffed, "You know how muddled my thoughts can get when I don't have a clear task to focus on."

"Caw, ca-u."

"Yes, I know," I said, my voice sounding hollow and weary. "Maybe it's because of the library? Seeing it fall apart like that, the glimpses of the red-haired figure and hearing that melody from my mother's funeral... it all feels too real, like I've lost part of myself. It hurts, Zos, and I don't know how to deal with that. How do you process something that feels so personal, so intimate, and yet so distant?"

The crow gave a soft, low caw, his eyes gleaming with understanding and sympathy.

My fingers clutched tightly around the Lycoris and I shook my head, trying to banish the dark thoughts swirling in my mind. "Let's try looking at it from a different angle," I said, forcing a lighter tone, "If this is some sort of test, what would Tris want me to learn?" I twirled the flower in between my fingers, considering the options.

"Is this a potion ingredient, do you think?" I looked down at the crimson bloom, my eyes roving over the petals. Was it me, or did the flower tremble ever so slightly in my grasp when I spoke of it being an ingredient? Did that mean I was right? Should I break the flower down and process it as I would any other plant matter?

"Caw," Zosimos suggested, his gaze focused intently on the flower.

"Hmm, yes, that's true. If it was a brewing or research task, we wouldn't be stuck here." I frowned, tilting the Lycoris back and forth. "Alchemy is also about more than just concocting potions. It has spiritual and philosophical roots as well. Alchemy at its most basic is about transformation, about breaking things down and putting them back together in new, better forms. So maybe the lesson here is about that?"

Zosimos cocked his head, and I could feel his curious gaze on me. "Ca-aw," Zosimos crowed, peering at the Lycoris intently.

I gave a small nod, agreeing with him, "There's definitely a connection there. On Earth, the Lycoris radiata is a member of the Amaryllidaceae family," I recited. "It is also known as the spider lily and in Japan, the Higanbana. It is known to be poisonous and has been used in various cultures for medicinal purposes. It is often associated with death and reincarnation. Which does connect to what I just said about alchemy."

"Caw," Zosimos nodded in agreement, and I stroked his feathers absentmindedly.

"So it is the same in Kaledon? Poisonous and associated with death and reincarnation?" I asked, hoping for some confirmation.

"Ca-ah," Zosimos nodded, then cawed again. "C-aw."

"Hmm, I see." I frowned, tapping my chin thoughtfully. "So in Kaledon, it is known by its Japanese name and can be used to create either a potent poison or a revival potion, depending on the way in which it is prepared?"

"Caw." Zosimos nodded his agreement.

"So, a spiritual and philosophical connection and a potential alchemical one. Well, that makes sense," I muttered, my brows furrowing.

Zosimos gave a series of caws.

"That's a bit harsh isn't it?" I said with a scowl. "It's not like Tris gave me any instructions or foundational information on what I'm supposed to be doing here." Or did he? I knew he'd spoken to me before this whole mess began, quoting the Corpus Hermeticum, as he so often did. But I had a vague sense that he'd spoken to me after that too, though the specifics eluded me. What did he say? Why couldn't I remember?

"Cah-u."

"Yes, yes, I know, I'm overthinking things again, but how am I supposed to figure out what I'm supposed to be learning if I have no idea what the lesson is supposed to be about? He could have sent a note or given me some guidance!"

"Caaaw."

"Yes, but it's not like he ever gives me straight answers anyway."

"Caw."

"No, you're right, Zos. It is a waste of time." Sighing, I twirled the flower once more. "Alright, let's start with the basics. What are we dealing with? The Lycoris, right? Well, we already know that it's associated with death and reincarnation. So, how do we relate that to alchemy?"

He cawed again, ruffling his feathers.

"Hmm." I stared at the flower, my brow furrowing in thought. "In alchemy, death is symbolic of the destruction and decomposition of matter, and adding to that, you are a crow once more," I gestured to him, and he bobbed his head. "Crows are often associated with death, due to their affinity for scavenging, as well as their reputation as harbingers of ill fortune. And in alchemy, crows can also symbolize the first stage of the alchemical process, when the material is broken down and separated."

"Cah-u." Zosimos crooned.

"Nigredo," I murmured, looking around at the dark expanse around me. "The blackening," I looked down at the glowing red flower. "The putrefaction, the decomposition. This is the Nigredo stage, the beginning of alchemy. It is the start of creation, the primordial chaos." But I had already passed through that stage, hadn't I? And it wasn't like this... whatever this was last time. Or was it? Could I have fallen back into the darkness? Had I lost my way?

"Nigredo, putrefaction, decomposition," I repeated softly.

"Caw," Zosimos agreed.

"Yes, I think you are right, Zos." I said, nodding slowly. "I think this place, this void, is the Nigredo. And the Lycoris is a hint, a sign of what I am meant to be doing here."

"Caw."

"Yes, yes. It is still just a guess. A theory. But it's a place to start."

"Caw-caw."

"So-" I mused, pacing back and forth, "-in the alchemical process, death is symbolic of destruction and decomposition, and rebirth is symbolic of purification and creation. If we look at the Lycoris and yourself as symbols of this process, then it makes sense that Tris is telling me that I need to finish what I started, to complete the process."

This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

"Ca-ah," Zosimos cawed.

"That is a rather morbid observation, Zos," I said, my nose wrinkling. "But yes, you're right. If this is the Nigredo stage, the stage where the material is broken down and decomposed, then it makes sense that the library represented that aspect, that it was a symbol of my mental decay."

"Caw-caah."

"Well, yes, that is the logical progression," I agreed. "Nigredo represents the blackening, the decomposition, and then following that comes Albedo, the whitening, the purification. So, the next step is purification and rebirth." Did that mean I needed to rebuild the library? Was I supposed to fix what I had broken? Or was it something else?

"Caw."

"That does make the most sense," I murmured, my eyes falling to the crimson flower still in my hand. "Although, if this were a seed pod from the tree, it would have made more sense, wouldn't it?" I asked, "After all, a seed is a symbol of the potential for new life, and it would have prompted me to plant it and grow a new tree. But this flower is already in full bloom, so that means it has already undergone its own transformation. It's a completed product, a final result. So, why would Tris send it to me?"

"Caw," Zosimos replied.

"Yes, you're right. The meaning is the same, regardless," I conceded, "In this instance, the flower symbolizes both the Nigredo and Albedo stages. It embodies death and decay as well as rebirth and purification. The Nigredo phase transitions into the Albedo phase—the white stage of purification. Just as a seed sprouts from the dirt, growing into a plant, a plant blooms into a flower, and the flower produces a new seed before it withers, this illustrates a cycle of transformation. It represents the continuous interplay of life and death, creation and destruction, renewal and rebirth."

"Ca-caw."

"You're right, there is still the citrinitas, the yellowing and rubedo, the reddening. That is the stage where the material is refined and solidified, where it is made whole and complete." I paused, looking down at the Lycoris once more. "Aside from the obvious in that the flower is red, I would say citrinitas is when the flower starts to bud, and the rubedo is when it opens and comes to its fullest form. While Nigredo is the seed before it sprouts and Albedo, of course, is when the seed first sprouts life.”

Or I could be completely wrong and overthinking everything as I was prone to doing.

"This is all so confusing, Zos," I admitted, "And it's not like I can even ask Tris for clarification. The old codger is nowhere to be found." I blew out a frustrated breath, my mind swirling with questions and doubts.

"Ca-caw," Zosimos suggested, bobbing his head.

"Plant it? In what?" I gestured to the barren surroundings, "There's nothing here, Zos. It's not like we can dig a hole and bury it." I looked down at the delicate crimson bloom.

"Ca-caw," he squawked, and I gave him a wry look.

"Just make dirt? From nothing? Just like that?" I snorted.

"Caw aw, cawk!"

I paused, considering his words. Although snarky and sarcastic, he did have a point. If this was the Nigredo, the state of nothingness and darkness, then wasn't it also the state of potential? After all, nothingness is a prerequisite for something to exist, right? And the Nigredo represents the beginning of the alchemical process, the birth of matter.

And the state of Nigredo was said to occur within oneself, in the inner recesses of the mind and spirit, representing the unconscious, the hidden depths of the self. So, that meant that this place, this void, was not merely a physical space, but also a metaphysical one. It was a representation of the subconscious, a reflection of the mind and spirit. That was why it was so hard to tell what direction I was facing or where I had come from. It was my mental perception of the place that determined the shape and the layout. This wasn't just an inner space, it was a manifestation of my mental state, of the inner landscape of my mind. My perception shaped the void, and because I myself did not know what direction to go in, neither did the void. It was also why my flames cast shadows and the ground felt solid beneath our feet—my perception made it so. I expected to stand on solid ground and for shadows to be cast, and thus, they were.

"This is my prima materia," I whispered, the realization dawning on me. "This is prima materia, the first matter, the quintessence, the base from which everything is created. This is the essence of my mind, the primordial darkness, the undifferentiated potential. Anything is possible here because it is not limited by the physical laws of reality, unless my mind perceives it to be."

"Ca-aw."

"Of course, you're right, Zos. The answer is always Hermetic philosophy," I said, shaking my head. "Tris is a big proponent of the idea that everything is energy, and energy is never destroyed, only changed into a different form. So, if that is the case, and we are working on the same principle, then it follows that this place is a reflection of my subconscious mind. It is a manifestation of the prima materia, the undifferentiated potential, the unshaped chaos. So, what happens when you introduce a catalyst to the prima materia, a seed of order and form? What happens when you give the chaos a shape, a purpose, a goal?"

"Caw," Zosimos prompted.

"Exactly! The potential is realized, the transformation is set in motion, the seed becomes a flower. Order is created from chaos, form is brought from the void. Creation is born from destruction. The cycle of life is set into motion. Nigredo is succeeded by Albedo, and from Albedo comes the Citrinitas and then the Rubedo."

"Ca-ah."

"And what is a seed without dirt, Zos? Or a flower without the sun, without nutrients? The flower will not survive in such a barren environment. It needs sustenance, it needs nourishment, it needs earth."

"Ca-caw," he squawked, and I laughed, a wave of excitement washing over me.

"Yes, exactly! If we are going to take the metaphor that far, we will need to create more than some dirt. We will need water, sunlight, and soil."

I trailed off as my thoughts turned to Rainy, who as a druid possessed what she called a druid grove. She had spoken of it as a sanctuary where she deepened her connection with nature, a place where she tended to the plants she'd bonded with and performed various magical rituals. She'd described the grove as a forest glade, filled with trees and plants. However, from what she'd told me, it had began as a small patch of earth, that was indicative of her own magical abilities and the amount of power she had access too. It grew with her power, becoming more complex and extensive the stronger she got.

Was that what Tris was asking me to do here? Was he encouraging me to create an inner sanctum for myself? A place to reflect, to meditate, to strengthen my mental state? He knew as I did that I wasn't well, and creating a haven for myself, a space that I could use to work through the issues I was having, would be beneficial.

Of course he wouldn't simply tell me such, that would be too simple for the god. Instead, he had chosen a more roundabout way, one which forced me to reflect and analyze, a method of teaching that he'd used countless times. Not that I minded, I enjoyed the challenge. Tris' little games were fun, and gave me something to occupy my mind, a puzzle to solve. It kept my thoughts from turning to the things that were plaguing me, and it allowed me to feel like I was doing something.

Feeling a lot more energized and a bit more excited, I looked down at the crimson flower still clutched in my hand, then holding it by the stem, I offered it to Zosimos. "Here, Zos, hold this for me while I put my hair up."

I couldn't keep holding onto the flower, and tucking it into my hair would keep it safe. While I could have put it into my bag, the thought of doing so felt... wrong, almost offensive. It didn't belong in my bag. No, it was special, and it deserved better.

Zosimos accepted the flower without complaint, holding it gently in his beak. Doing my best not to dislodge the bird perched on my shoulder, I brought my hands up to my hair, running my fingers through the strands and smoothing out tangles and knots. How long had it been like this? I couldn't remember the last time I cared for my hair. When did I last wash it? Brush it? Braid it?

I blew out a sharp breath and shook my head, trying to refocus and regain my composure. My hair wasn’t overly bad, just a little knotted, and I could deal with that. As I reached for the pouch strapped to my upper thigh, I froze as my fingers met not fabric but bare skin. Where was my pouch? More pressing, where were my clothes? I was completely naked—a fact I had somehow overlooked until now. How had I not noticed? Hadn’t I been looking at my shoulder where Zosimos was? How did I not see that it was bare? How did I not feel his claws digging into flesh? My shoulder… I couldn’t even remember what it looked like- only that Zosimos was there.

My mind reeled as I tried to process the situation. Why did I not notice my own state of undress? I couldn’t even recall being aware that my hair was loose, the sensation only now settling in.

I stared at my body, taking in the sight of pale skin, curves and dips, angles and lines. It felt both familiar and alien, as if I were seeing myself for the first time. My fingers traced the curve of my hip, the swell of my breasts, and the dip of my waist. Everything seemed to be in the right places… but wait.

My tails… Where are my tails? The sensation of fur brushing against my calf drew my attention to the pair of tails, which I’d been certain weren’t there moments before. Now, however, they were swaying behind me, as if they’d always been there. I reached behind myself, feeling the solidity and weight of the tails, and then up to my head, checking that my ears were indeed there. My fingers brushed against the pointed and fluffy vulpine ears, confirming their presence.

A soft caw brought me back to my senses and I looked at Zosimos, who stared at me with concern, his dark eyes searching my face. I stared back at the bird perched on my shoulder, my brows furrowed. "Zosimos, pray tell," I began, my tone deceptively light, "have I been naked this entire time?"

"Caw," he crowed in confirmation, the sound muffled by the flower stem held in his beak.

"And you did not think to tell me?" I asked through gritted teeth.

Zosimos cocked his head, but gave no verbal reply.

"I can't believe I've been naked this whole time," I muttered, crossing my arms over my chest and lower body in a futile attempt to preserve some modesty. Zosimos, undeterred by my distress, observed me with a mix of curiosity and mirth, as if my predicament was nothing more than a passing spectacle.

However, I could not shake the feeling of vulnerability and embarrassment that washed over me. Not only that, but I was left to wonder how exactly I came to be without clothing. Didn't Kaledon have rules regarding decency and clothes?

As far as I knew, in Kaledon, every piece of clothing was magically imbued with a protection spell known as the Ward of Consent. This enchantment served as a safeguard, deeply rooted in the world law of Kaledon, where it was viewed as a severe violation to remove someone’s clothing without their explicit consent. The lore of Kaledon explained that the ward's use had become so ingrained in the world's natural mana that it would automatically form on any garment created.

But here I was, completely exposed and unprotected, my clothing gone without a trace. I couldn't help but feel violated in some way. Who could have possibly done this? And why? Tris wouldn't do this, would he? No... it couldn't be him. He wouldn't have left me unclothed, that much I knew. If anything, he would have magically swapped out my clothing for a kimono or yukata, given his fondness for those kinds of garments.

I sighed, hugging myself tightly. If this was a manifestation of my own subconscious mind then, was the nudity a reflection of my own vulnerability and insecurities? It was possible, though I didn't think the subconscious mind worked like that. Perhaps the lack of clothing was simply because I hadn't given proper thought to my own form? I had not given thought to my own body, not considered my own physical self and as a result, I had no sense of self. That would explain the lack of awareness, or rather, awareness only during the moments I actively thought about it.

"At least there is no one else here to see me," I tried to reason, attempting to quell the rising embarrassment within me.

"Caw-ack!"

"You don't count," I replied, scowling at the crow. "You've seen me naked before, Zos, you've been in the room with me while I've changed and bathed more than once." I'd never even given thought to Zosimos or any of my pets being present while I changed, and now I wondered if I should have... at least where the smarter animals, like Zosimos, were concerned.

"Caw-aw."

"I didn't ask for your opinion," I retorted, rolling my eyes.

"Kree-ack."

"And I most certainly do not need your commentary," I snapped.

Zosimos cocked his head again and then shrugged, the action causing me to scowl even more.

"I hate you," I huffed, and the crow cackled, the sound muffled by the flower he still held in his beak. "Get off," I said, flicking his toes which were digging into my shoulder.

Zosimos cawed indignantly and dug his claws deeper, earning another glare from me.

"Get off so I can work out how I am going to get dressed," I insisted, gesturing to my bare form. "Not all of us are feathered."

"Caw," he said, bobbing his head and fluttering his wings as he took flight, landing a few feet away from me and dropping the lily on the ground.

"Yes, Zos, I know I have fur, but being in fox form is not the same as being clothed in human form."

Although, if I couldn't get clothes, maybe that would be the next step. But first things first.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, centering myself. I focused on my breathing, the rise and fall of my chest, the steady beat of my heart, and intrenching myself in the physicality of my body.

I am a physical being, with a physical form. I exist. I am here, and I am real.

Slowly, carefully, I opened my eyes and looked down, taking in the sight of myself. Right... clothes. I focused on the feeling of being clothed, the sensation of fabric against skin, the warmth and security of having clothes.

Nothing.

I tried again, imagining the feel of silk, of linen, of leather, and wool. Still, nothing.

Frustration boiled up within me, and I growled, my ears pinning back against my head. I glared at the air in front of me, willing clothes to appear, but the void did not comply.

"Well, isn't this just fantastic," I grumbled, crossing my arms over my chest and lower body. Empty void or no, I wasn't about to walk around stark naked.

"Ca-caw," Zosimos crowed.

"Oh, shut up," I huffed, glaring at the crow. "If you're so smart, why don't you come up with an idea?"

"Caw-a," he replied, bobbing his head and hopping around, his wings flapping.

I pursed my lips, not wanting to admit that his suggestion had merit, but I knew he was right. I wasn't properly envisioning what it was that I wanted. I wasn't giving enough clarity or specificity to my request.

"Fine," I said with a sigh, "let's try this again."

I closed my eyes and focused on the image of the clothes I wanted, envisioning myself in the simple tunic and trousers I typically wore beneath my priestess robes. My bare skin prickled with the faint sensation of touch, but as I focused, no clothing appeared. I frowned, closing my eyes and trying again, picturing the simple cotton and leather garments in my mind's eye. Still nothing.

I sighed, frustrated, running a hand through my hair. Why wasn't it working? It had been simple to manifest the ground and take it away. So why was creating clothes such a struggle?

Perhaps I needed to concentrate more, to truly visualize each garment in vivid detail. I closed my eyes and began with the underlayer, imagining the soft, cotton underwear and bandeau I wore beneath my clothing. Next, I pictured slipping into my dark brown leather pants, followed by a fitted top made from soft cotton, its deep purple hue enhancing the contrast with my red hair. The top’s flowing sleeves tapered gracefully at the wrists, with two gold buttons on each cuff and a delicate ruffle along the neckline that added a touch of refinement.

Over I wore a corseted leather vest, its intricate gold detailing catching the light and drawing attention to its finely crafted design. Then came my favorite knee-high boots—made from tanned leather, with a slight heel that provided a bit of lift without sacrificing comfort. Each piece seamlessly came together in my mind, creating the stylish ensemble that Rainy had perfectly tailored to fit me.

As I built the image of the outfit in my mind, I could feel the weight of the clothing settling on me, the soft cotton fabric brushing against my skin. But when I opened my eyes, the sensation of being clothed disappeared, and once again, I was bare.

I huffed in annoyance, running a hand through my hair. Why wasn't it working? Maybe if I tried harder? I'd been close last time, with the sensation of clothing brushing against me. Ah, perhaps that was it. I had only been thinking of how the clothing would look, not how it would feel, smell, or sound. There was more to clothing than just its appearance.

Taking a deep breath, I centered my mind and focused on the clothes, picturing them not as static images but as dynamic, fluid pieces. I envisioned the softness of the cotton blouse, the way the sleeves would billow slightly with each movement, and how the cuffs would gather at my wrists. I imagined the tightness of the corset, feeling how it hugged my waist and supported my chest, along with the smooth leather of the trousers, which embraced my hips and legs like a second skin.

I took a step forward, recalling the soft, pliable leather of the knee-high boots, how they molded to my calves, and how the heel gave me a slight lift, making me feel more confident and grounded. I recalled the firmness of the soles and the hardened toe cap, which provided support and protection while allowing for flexibility.

When I opened my eyes, the clothes no longer existed only in my mind. They had materialized seamlessly on my body, as though I had always been wearing them.

Smiling, I ran my hands over the smooth leather and crisp cotton, marveling at the sensation. I felt more solid and real, more complete than before. It was as though the simple act of clothing myself granted my body a degree of permanence, anchoring me in reality.

"Much better," I murmured with a relieved sigh. I no longer felt quite so exposed or vulnerable.

"Caw-ah."

"Yes, I suppose you were right," I admitted, my tone grudging, "but don't let it go to your head."

"Ca-awk," Zosimos cackled, bobbing his head.

Ignoring his antics, I inspected my clothes, mulling over how I'd managed to conjure them up. "This requires further investigation," I muttered, running a hand along the fine stitching on the sleeve cuff. "Before I attempt developing this place as a whole, I need to understand the process of creation better."

I should start by trying to create something simple. Something small, but not too complex.

My eyes fell on the Lycoris bloom, and an idea struck me. I would start with a pot to hold the flower.

"Let's see how well this goes," I muttered, looking around the void. I closed my eyes and concentrated on the image of a pot, visualizing it in every detail. When I opened my eyes, there was nothing but the barren darkness surrounding me.

Right... I needed to think of all the parts, not just one.

I began by visualizing the bottom of the pot, a simple clay disk with a hole that would allow water to drain. Next, I imagined the sides of the pot, envisioning a basic, cylindrical shape.

Once I had a clear picture of the shape in my mind, I started adding the smaller details. First, I visualized the color of the pot, a rich, reddish-brown, similar to the color of the dirt. Then, I imagined the texture of the clay, recalling how my clay bowls and jars felt when I handled them. Next was the smell, the faint scent of earth and minerals, and finally, the sound, the hollow clank of the pot's bottom against the table.

I focused on each of these sensory inputs, immersing myself in the experience.

A loud caw drew my attention, and I opened my eyes. On the ground before me was a small clay pot, exactly as I had imagined. Except it was far too small for a flower pot.

I knelt down, examining the tiny container, and a wave of embarrassment washed over me. The pot was no larger than a shot glass, and looked more like one of my tincture vials than a flower pot.

"I suppose I have some fine-tuning to do."

"Caw-caw."

"Don't laugh at me," I chided. "It was a good first attempt."

It took a few more attempts for me to produce a pot of the correct size. But once I figured it out, I was able to create a variety of different-sized pots and containers with ease.

Then I moved onto something a little more challenging; a chair.

One would think a chair would not be a difficult thing to make, but as I soon found out, it was. It was easy enough to visualize the wooden seat and back, and even the simple armrests, but it was the size and details that proved tricky. How large was the seat meant to be, how high were the armrests supposed to sit? What was the exact height of the back? How much space should be between the legs? I was not a carpenter, so it wasn't like I could accurately visualize every aspect.

However, it was not until I stopped attempting to think about the chair in its every detail and instead tried to envision it as a whole, as an object, that I managed to produce a somewhat satisfactory result. It was a matter of balance, I realized after some trial and error.

If I attempted to over think, to consider each element, I would lose sight of the whole. But if I trusted my instincts, if I allowed myself to create without overanalyzing, the outcome was more likely to be successful. What I needed to do was focus on the intention behind the creation, not the physical details. I needed to think about the purpose of the object, and allow my subconscious mind to fill in the blanks.

It would seem that Tris' plan was not as mysterious and convoluted as I had imagined. Instead, it was a simple, and once solved, boring, exercise in visualization.

I had been expecting a more profound test, something that would challenge my ability to think outside the box or require me to make use of my knowledge of alchemy and magic. But this was neither of those things. This was simply a task that required me to recall and remember, and not much else.

How disappointing.