I had half the mind to think this girl was making things up, but prolific sorcerers such as myself had various ways to discern lies based on our aethereal perception. Her tale was so tall, but having met her just recently and seeing the nonsense that travels in her wake, there was no way to deny the influence of someone at least close to my level.

“Gazen, huh…?” I chuckled and enjoyed another apple. I had to admit, my student was no slouch. “Must have been five or six hundred years ago at this point… I am sure I met a young boy by that name. He arrived with a crew of pirates but didn’t dress the part. I have to say you and Tawny are lucky to have taken such a direct route. Not many know the language of the sky, and a gang of shoddy pirates and half-assed mages certainly wouldn’t. You missed nine guardians that most generally fall to. Still, somehow that child was the only survivor of the whole crew, but he was so weak I had to expel him from Paradise. Not in a thousand years could that talentless boy become my student.”

“Yeah, no way that could have been my dad,” Cira laughed, lifting her mug for the first time in a long while, “He couldn’t ever have been that old or weak.”

I clinked the glass with a genial smile, though I had my doubts. If this person truly was a ‘sage’, then it would be strange for him not to have been a few centuries old. Still, if he swatted away a primordial demon so casually, however did he let that same demon’s curse take his life? Something isn’t adding up, but at least my student has given me an interesting query to ponder, among other things.

“You’re probably right.” The ale tasted marvelous. I had never had the chance to try it myself, but this was a degree of satisfaction that was a long time coming, if I do say so myself. “I do not believe I would have withstood forced corporealization. For a few centuries I was eager to try it myself, so how is it that I was able to resist it in your hands? Do you even realize what it means to give one such as I new form? My soul has ceased dwindling completely and my corporea is nearly complete.”

“It would be at least moderately upsetting if you disappeared,” My student laughed with a youthful grin like what she was saying wasn’t incredibly heavy. “But what have you done with them? Practically my whole crew’s grown respectable auras. You realize I brought them here not because I need them to grow stronger for any particular reason, but because I have neglected them. I’m practically the worst teacher of all time.”

“Oho,” There was a certain charm to her naivete, “It seems you are mistaken. No matter how great your father was, you are yet lacking. The burdens you shoulder at such a young age will surely bring you to ruin, as I can tell you have no intention of wasting time to resolve them. Growth comes slower in isolation. The fact that you have such a devoted following is possibly the best-case scenario here. Just as facing strong opponents is imperative to progress, so is walking among those weaker or less fortunate than yourself. Should you ever forget the weaknesses you lack, you will grow too arrogant to overcome those you don’t.”

Cira watched her students across the training ground she conjured before I sent her to that place. Some of her crew meditated near the pylons, but most practiced their skill or exercised of their own accord in the field surrounding the central aethereal anchor. Cira expressed with great shame that she felt inadequate to see them thriving so in her absence, despite my having stuck to her curriculum.

“How do you instill such discipline into these lazy bastards?” She asked.

She tuned in on Jimbo completely shrouded in mist, her paladins channeling holy light, a small group drawing power from the sun, a larger group completely in flames around her fire element pylon.

“I can’t be more impressed… but I feel like I haven’t done anything.” An uncharacteristically terse expression shadowed her face. “How am I even their master… if they’ve made so much progress beneath your tutelage?”

Cira leaned back in her seat downcast and finished another glass.

“Were there not certain steps you laid out?” I asked curtly, “I followed them diligently. Physical aptitude is mandatory, but that was a mere guise to test or challenge their determination. While some still needed to condense their aura, the first step you laid out was to gather a domain. I admit, a little much for such novices, but most of them have already come that far. Your simplification of crystallization I think has made great strides in their progress, especially as Tawny seems to be well versed in it. Many more are able to manipulate elements to the point of pure solidification. Not just Tawny, but all of your fire proficient students have attained aether flame. Your Lamplight is remarkable even in my eyes, at least in efficiency and overall craftsmanship. It has helped your students reduce mana consumption and even form their own rudimentary spells just by keeping it in mind.

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“And it’s my understanding you left a boy an ordinarily chisel and he used it to walk the path of artificer.” I couldn’t hide the boisterous twinkle from reaching my eyes, “Your junior division is something to be proud of as well. My iron fist may have made an impression on these people, young and old, but they could have left at any time. They don’t want to be like the strict old man, they want to be like the bright young sorcerer disappears or appears in a flash of light seemingly on a whim. How your lackadaisical attitude has inspired so many is beyond me, but I am certain your father the Great Sage would be proud.”

___

Cira felt her cheeks turn red and tried to face away. Again, outside praise bothered her, but to hear someone she considered to be at least a semi-reliable source claim objectively that her father would be proud of her made her giddy like when she was a kid.

“Dad, look!” I stuck a fork in the potato and held it up with pride, “I made it grow!”

Long ago, Cira had just begun to dabble in nature sorcery. Vegetables did not agree with her, so she discovered she could divert her father’s attention by making them keep growing from her plate. Plants were remarkably resilient with just a little push.

Potatoes possessed an origin and nature she was unclear of, so Cira found them quite dubious. Still, they grew like vegetables when she pumped them full of mana. Now that nature was within her grasp, an extra little sprinkling of life mana and cooked potatoes could live on.

“Dear…” It was really scary last time when he reversed her imbuing of life and Cira cried at the dinner table, so this time Gazen was all out of cards. “You’ll never be a great sorcerer if you can’t eat your vegetables… At least take some of my carrots. No matter how alive they are, they’re just as delicious—”

“That’s even WORSE!” I can’t believe I cried under the table for hours about the mortality of carrots… Could it really be said I’ve become a sorcerer he can be proud of from his nonexistent grave?

“I guess I’ll never make him proud if I don’t continue my path…” Cira stood up from the table and looked over the training grounds. “I don’t have much time left with this new collection of friends… but I owe them some. We’ll talk later, Old Man.”

“It’s Io…” His voice died on the wind as Cira dissipated into crackling shadows.

“Watch out.” Cira’s voice came as a whisper when void lightning turned into a fist.

“Wh-Lady Saint?!” Captain Shores was caught by surprise as his holy barrier shattered to pieces. The other paladins looked on in a panic until one man’s open palm caught her fist. “Gratos…”

“You will not catch me off guard, lest I make my Lady look bad.” His jeering face accentuated every muscle in his smile. A honed body heads taller than Cira went tense as holy light fought her menial display of shadow. “I have been waiting for this.”

He wore a grin like the old goblin king but without all the blood lust. It was a simple yearning for combat—the desire to trade fists for no further merit than the sake of it.

This guy… I can’t overwhelm him with sorcery. It wouldn’t be right. This is the same look he gave me when I first arrived in Green Pit. Not a trace of animosity, but he wishes to fight. Somehow… I feel the same. Why is that?

Cira assumed a stance that hadn’t felt comfortable in many years, but right now she couldn’t imagine fighting unarmed in any other position. One arm was ready to deflect, while another lay eager to strike like a coiled serpent. This style of martial arts was designed for the sorcerer who expended their pool of mana, but Cira retracted hers completely instead. Holy light dwindled within kind in Gratos’ fists.

“W-wait, Gratos!” Shores cried, “Stand down!”

“No.” Cira interjected, “Don’t interfere.”

Her opponent’s baseless smile turned into a smirk.

“My gratitude, Lady Saint.” Gratos cracked the earth with pure physical strength and landed before Cira in an instant, “Let that fire in your eyes burn.”

Cira dodged a quick swipe and they each returned to their repose, feeling the other out for response. A few seconds later, both to make the first move. This guy had a lot of weight on her, but Cira was as agile as ever with both legs.

“Who trained you?” Gratos asked.

“My father, of course.” Cira couldn’t contain a laugh but maintained her posture. “And you?”

“Former cardinal of the Final Sky, Peugolo, taught me everything I know,” He let out an earth-shaking chuckle. “I was his apprentice for many years until Shores and I left Port.”

He didn’t elaborate further, but this wasn’t a conversation, it was a fight.

Perhaps in jest, the hulking man took a stance not unfamiliar to Cira, as if to mirror the open palm she smote Kieran with. One thing she noticed was his legs held him to the ground like a mounted cannon, and his palm seemed to shake the air as it approached.

He took my attack… and showed me a more perfect form. It’s not about momentum to throw my palm, but a solid foundation to maximize forward pressure… If I let him land this hit I’m done for.

As if by instinct, Cira wove to the side to feign a dodge, then grabbed his striking forearm with her offhand. She used his own weight to turn it downward and exposed his flexed ribs from the torsion. With a single step past his back, Cira dropped her elbow in just the right spot to hook under his ribcage and poke some uncomfortable organs.

“Gyah!!” The man roared in pain, untwisting himself with a backhand like a weathervane in a hurricane. This was the moment Cira lost consciousness.