Evening had settled over Moraine Academy, casting a calm blue over the grounds that belied the turmoil within him. He made his way back to the common rooms, his dinner the last thing on his mind.

Relar's mind was torn between running to the masters and forgetting everything. The conversation he had overheard lingering like stone in his stomach. He only knew enough to know he didn't want to have anything to do with it.

The common room buzzed with post-dinner activity; groups of initiates lounged in various states of relaxation and conversation.

It was a large, vaulted space. Towering empty shelves lined the walls, their dark wood gleaming in the soft glow of the enchanted light. Many were out, but between the first and second season initiates, it was a sizable crowd. There was a clear divide between the groups, not for lack of mixing, but one could clearly tell which ones were the worried faces of the new arrivals.

In one corner, a group of second-year students huddled around a large, oak table, their heads bent over maps and texts, whispering.

Nearby, a hearth crackled, around which a circle of mismatched sofas and armchairs had been arranged, all of them worn and patched. Here, second season initiates reclined, some with books propped open, others engaged in quiet, earnest discussions. The fire's gentle warmth wrapped the room in a cozy embrace, a stark contrast to the chill that crept in from the stone floors when night arrived.

Across the room, near the wide windows that looked out onto the twilight lit academy grounds, a few students sat alone, lost in thought or scribbling notes into their journals. Laughter erupted from a table near the center of the room, where a lively game of cards was underway.

Relar paused at the threshold, taking in the scene. The common room, a nexus of academy life, felt both comforting and alien tonight. The usual allure of joining his peers in their unwinding failed to tempt him. Their laughter and camaraderie, usually so inviting, now seemed distant as his thoughts churned with the weight of the secret he carried.

He spotted Tomas, Lorelai, and Jarek at a corner table, their heads close together in discussion.

"Level two already," Jarek was saying as Relar approached. Tomas nodded, a lock of hair falling into his eyes. "Same here. The first ones go fast. I think half of our group already got it."

Relar sat down with them, listening.

"Any trouble with control?" Tomas asked.

Jarek shook his head. "Nah, the spells already come more naturally now."

"Good, keep at it. We will need your fighting soon enough."

"And what about you, Relar?" Lorelai turned to him with an encouraging smile. "It's horrible they made you sit out, just because of that noble."

Relar hesitated but thinking about sharing what he had just discovered, but decided against it. "It was alright," he said instead. "I actually managed to make good progress. Level 2 for one of my pages, and a good grasp on the other."

Jarek clapped him on the back. "That's great. I bet that noble just sat in his room crying how unfair the world is."

Lorelai leaned forward. "We gonna talk about team tactics, Relar, I think Elia is still in the mess hall." And with a laugh added "And Kian is out searching for his mystery page."

"Oh sure," Relar taking the hint. "I am gonna go looking for her. Didn't have dinner yet anyway."

Relar left the table, the weight of their casual banter fading with each step toward the mess hall. The corridor was quiet, a slight clatter and chatter of dining barely echoing down the stone length. He slowed his pace. He wanted to see Master Baelor. Dinner could wait.

But why bother Master Baelor with idle student whispers? It was likely nothing. Fantasies spun from boredom or bravado. He had already attracted unwanted attention today; more trouble was the last thing he needed.

He stopped, a sigh escaping him. His practice banishment should be lifted by now, the afternoon was over. He could just talk to the master. Show him his advancement. Ask him about spirits. The decision made, Relar redirected his steps toward the library, Baelor's quarters.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

He walked down corridors until he reached a vast library where dust motes danced in beams of magical light and the scent of aged parchment hung heavy in the air. The door was wide open. Master Baelor stood among towering bookshelves filled with leather-bound tomes and stacks of scrolls. And a glass in his hands. Red liquid sloshing with his movements in the high glass.

"Welcome," Baelor greeted him, catching him in the corner of his eye as Relar had neared. He turned, "And what do we have here?"

Baelor look at him, the dim light flickering off his spectacles, as he peered up at Relar. "Didn't pick the right master, did you?" he noted, his tone neutral.

Relar shifted uncomfortably. "I… was supposed to be in your training in the afternoon, but … couldn't make it."

Baelor gestured to a chair across from him. "Well, you are here now. You can bring me that jug.", he pointed at an earthen carafe on a table a few rows over.

Relar retrieved the wine and made to pour for Baelor, who had settled back on stacks of books as if they were a couch. "I'm listening," Baelor prompted.

Relar swallowed. "My pages are Spirit Companion, with a beast, sir. And Spirit Sense. Master Gumnik told me to seek you out on matters concerning spirits."

Baelor's eyes narrowed slightly. "Spirits? Continue."

Relar took a deep breath, steadying himself under Baelor's scrutinizing gaze. "I've been able to summon my spirit companion, a crane. I believe we've established a bond. It's shown me... memories, experiences. And it follows my instructions, responds to my commands."

Baelor remained silent for a moment, swirling the red wine in his glass thoughtfully. "Memories, you say? That's no small feat. Spirits guard their pasts jealously. For one to share its memories with you suggests a strong willingness to form a bond."

Encouraged, Relar added, "Yes, the memories suggest as much. It seems… lonely. I've also practiced using spirit sense, Master Baelor. So far, I can switch between seeing or hearing through my crane, but only one sense at a time."

Setting his glass down, Baelor leaned forward, his expression turning serious. "Relar, spirits are more than tools or allies. They are entities with their own wills and desires. To advance your bond—and your capabilities—you must understand and respect that. You will have time for that, hopefully.

Now, regarding your training and spell use, here's what you need to know:

First, the sharing of memories is a gateway to understanding the essence of your crane. Each memory holds significance, a lesson or strength it possesses. Reflect on these memories, learn from them.

Second, concerning spirit sense, your limitation to one sense at a time is not uncommon. However, with practice, you can learn to blend your senses, to see and hear simultaneously, or more. This requires a harmony between your spirit and your own essence. Meditation can aid this.

Lastly, the bond you share can amplify your abilities. Don't overlook this. The basis is practical use like have the crane's aerial perspective guide your spells and sensing dangers beyond normal perception with the eyes of the spirit. They are susceptible to aether in a different ways than us. You should be able to see aggregations of aether, like when spells build, or magical beasts roam, and many more. But beyond technique, it's the synchronization of your intents that will elevate your prowess. Your crane should not merely be a follower of your will, but rather, you both move with shared purpose. You should be diffused in each others very essence."

Baelor paused, allowing his words to sink in. "Relar, this is the starting line. You will be tested in the next weeks and soon enough in the Climb. Learn to listen, to truly communicate with your crane, and you'll find that its abilities—and yours—will reach heights you've not yet imagined. Let it in."

Relar absorbed Baelor's words, a mix of awe and a certain weight settling over him. "Thank you, Master Baelor. I'll …"

The master raised his hand, "Any questions?"

He was standing close enough to see the fine lines etched around Baelor's eyes. "Sir," he almost whispered, "may I ask what you know about the shards?" The words slipped from Relar's lips.

Baelor raised his eyebrows, eyes lifting to meet Relar's. "Ah, the mystery of the season," he mused, stroking his chin. "And you," he looked at Relar again, "are the test subjects. I am indeed asking my books the same question. It is not unusual for us to find a new puzzle in the tower. But I will admit this one seems to have its own weight."

Relar leaned in slightly. "I heard there might be scrolls on the topic," he pressed, hope lacing his tone.

Baelor's chuckle was a quiet rumble in the vast library. "Speculating is all they're doing with those scrolls," he replied with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Of course people will look towards the library for answers. But there are none that I know of that hold any real knowledge on the shards."

Relar's shoulders sagged ever so slightly. He nodded, though surprise some disappointment showing in his face. Then it must have been someone's fancy after all, no grand robbery. Just fantasies.

"Now, Relar, listen carefully—They, the spirits you harbor, but especially this first one, will become a part of you, if you let it. A bond with a spirit will not only be a relationship that you both agree too—that's merely a requisite. It will quite literally fuse to your spirit, your soul, if you will. And if it is ever taken from you, and it will if you lose access to the tower. You will feel the loss. It will take an important part of you, not to be returned."

Baelor's face took on a softening of his features. "Don't fret overly. Spirits choose their companions for a reason, Relar, you will be able to accomplish much."

He looked back towards the rows of books, seriousness returning to him, "Now, go on. It's late and I also have much to accomplish tonight. Maybe I can tell you all more about the shards soon. I wager I will see you in the afternoons from now on, if you manage to stay away from the nobles."

The young caster walked away from Master Baelor's realm in the final quest for the day, to see if some food was still left.