The night passes. Standing on spring water, seemingly without a need for sleep, Ayla notices Centum waking up. “For someone who sleeps so much, you seem so restless,” she comments while walking towards him. Centum rubs his tired eyes as he tries to shake the dreams of Mia from his mind.

Stopping next to him, Ayla continues, “Usually, I’d suggest you get more sleep, but I don’t think it would make a difference. So why don’t we get started on your training, it might be the perfect distraction you need?” Still a bit weary, Centum comes to his feet and nods. “Great! Let’s begin with a demonstration of your magic, so I can determine where to start the training.”

A bit hesitant, Centum thinks to himself, “My elemental essence has recharged so I can cast my spirit magic. I can’t allow the Library’s existence and its secrets to be revealed, but using my tome shouldn’t be a problem.” From his side, he swings his white, metal tome into his hands and tries to imbue it with power. His face becomes strained, but the tome remains inert.

From afar, Turrix’s large, stone eyes widen in astonishment. His senses focus on the tome. “That material, how did he obtain it?! Our new sibling isn’t as simple as he seems.” No one notices this development as Turrix returns his gaze towards the barren landscape ahead.

Centum’s face fills with frustration, “Without the system, my tome is nothing more than a sturdy book. I probably depleted the last of its stored power when I first arrived on this planet. My title bonus also seems inactive. My current predicament seems much more severe than I first thought.”

Noticing his frustration, Ayla instructs, “Why don’t you cast without the book? Relying on tools will only limit one’s own potential.” Hearing this, his expression eases as his eyes fill with a newfound determination. “Alright, cast your strongest spell towards me. Don’t worry; I’ll be fine,” She instructs. A bit hesitant, Centum crudely gathers elemental essence in his hands as he forcefully blasts it towards her.

A frown forms on Ayla’s beautiful complexion as she effortlessly blocks his attack. She lightly shakes her head as she says, “I’d be lying if I said I’m happy with your performance. Calling that magic would be an insult to magicians. Compared to your attack on the demonic beasts, this is pathetic. It seems your reliance on that book is worse than I thought.”

In response, Centum’s expression turns downcast. Ayla’s frown disappears as she hurriedly tries to comfort him, “I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to be cruel. This planet is filled with dangers beyond your imagination, so I can’t afford to be lax with you. My guess is that you haven’t received any formal training. Am I right?” Taking a moment to think, Centum nods in confirmation. Per tradition, the guidance he received from Novem, outside of his role as a Librarian, was minimal.

Ayla takes a deep breath and says, “At the moment, your attack can’t even be classified as a spell, it’s more akin to a blast of elemental essence. We’re elemental spirits, the inventors of spirit magic. Our prowess is unmatched in this field!” Centum’s eyes are focused as he rapidly absorbs the information. “Is that really true?” he asks.

“Of course!” she responds, “I was born on this planet, so I can’t give my own accounts, but I remember a story that Turrix told me when he first trained me. Long ago, before the inception of the term ‘magician’, when the first mortal managed to summon a spirit, Turrix appeared before him. Despite the talent that this particular mortal possessed, Turrix was only able to impart a lesser version of our spirit magic. His name was Leviar or something, I can’t exactly remember, but that’s beside the point.”

A proud expression beams from her face as she looks towards Centum. Without her realising it, he managed to pull out a blank book from god knows where and was meticulously recording her words. “Hey, focus! We’re training now. You can write afterwards,” she shouts. “Sorry, force of habit,” he responds awkwardly as he tucks the new, leatherbound book back into his robe; placing it next to a more worn out leather book. “You were saying,” he urges her, seemingly oblivious.

She releases a deep sigh and continues, “As I was saying; To others, we elemental spirits wield the peak of spirit magic and I won’t tolerate you blemishing this reputation. Unfortunately, our current supply of elemental essence is limited, so I can’t teach you any advanced magic. Luckily for someone like you who lacks the bare basics, this won’t be a problem.”

In her hand, elemental essence gathers. Effortlessly, she begins to manipulate it. The formless energy begins to take the shape of different creatures, switching between them. “We’ll begin with your control of elemental essence. This training won’t be easy, but we spirits are naturally talented. I expect by the time we reach home that you should have mastered the basics. Is that understood?” She instructs seriously.

Enthralled by her display of skill, Centum nods subconsciously. “Good! Now, begin,” she commands. Centum tries to follow her example, but he barely manages to form a vaguely humanoid blob. After an hour of practice, Ayla finally allows him to rest. Unceremoniously, he collapses on the grass, exhausted. She massages her forehead in concern. Exasperated, she complains, “I guess this will be harder than I first thought.”

Turrix, without any need to rest, continues their long march back home. The barren landscape is monotonous, and the setting sun is the only indication that time is passing. In the nights, the grey moon casts no light on the abandoned planet below. Only the lingering heat from the sun’s warm rays provides solace to those trapped on the planet below. The cycle continues uninterrupted, and soon ten years have passed.

Standing on the edge of Turrix’s stone shell, a purple-robed man carefully studies the horizon. Around him, small figures of different colours seem to perform an intricate dance. Each figure is unique in shape; some are humanoid, and others portray various animals. A stubble of hair can be seen on the man’s chin.

Behind the man, a blue-haired woman steps out from the forest. She stretches out her hand out towards him, and a blue deer gallops onto her palm. “Pure water elemental essence,” she comments. The man tuns toward her and asks, “Are you satisfied with my progress, Ayla?” A smile creeps onto her face as she nudges the deer back towards the others. She stops next to him, and her gaze focuses on the horizon. “I’ll consider it a pass, Sage. Luckily, you’ve completed your training of the basic elemental manipulation just in time.”

“We’ll be arriving at your home today, right?” Centum asks. The air rumbles as Turrix’s deep voice reverberates in the surroundings, “Indeed, we’ll arrive by sunset. You should be able to see our home on the horizon.” Turrix points his large, stone head towards a certain direction.

Following his directions, Centum looks towards the location. His eyes widen in shock as an impossible tall citadel juts out from the barren landscape. The citadel’s sheer size dwarfs its surrounding. The citadel isn’t particularly wide, but its hight is over a hundred meters. Its dimensions are bizarre as Centum ponders how such a structure can support itself without toppling over.