Entry #10

Mira hesitated, her fingers hovering inches from the glowing tome Gwydia offered her. Its golden runes shimmered beneath the moonlight, promising a world without pain, without burden—a place to forget everything.

But instead of grabbing it, Mira pulled her hand away.

“I choose this world,” she said softly.

Gwydia blinked. “Why?”

Mira lifted her eyes, fierce despite her youth. “Because I don’t need a new world to live in. I’m already in one—a better one.”

“I’m tired of calling them curses,” she went on, her voice growing stronger. “Mister Louis… he’s trying his best to control his powers. That’s why he’s going through these trials—because he has something to fight for. And I do too.”

A smile tugged at Gwydia’s lips. “I like your answer.”

She snapped her fingers. The tempting tome vanished. In its place, another book gently fell from the sky, bound in ivy-green leather and laced with silver script.

“This is the Codex Arcanum,” she said. “A spellbook containing some of the most powerful magic known—even capable of harming gods. But such spells require focus, discipline… and heart.”

Mira held it close like a sacred gift. “Thank you… for believing in me.”

“Always,” Gwydia whispered, placing a hand on the girl’s head. “Now come. The others are waiting.”

Back at camp, Gabriel lay sprawled near the fire, tossing a pebble between his hands.

“What’s taking so long?” he muttered.

Joaquin, polishing a brass flask, glanced up. “Louis is undergoing his fire trial with Lord Ilazki.”

Gabriel grunted. “That explains the sauna-level humidity earlier.”

“He’s been through this before,” Joaquin said. “I saw him train with Ama-Lurra at her post. She nearly buried him in vines.”

Gabriel smirked. “You’re observant.”

“I’m a doctor. I study people.”

Moments later, the others returned—Louis alongside Ilazki, his shoulders squared and eyes glowing faintly with residual heat. Behind them, Gwydia walked beside Mira, who now wore her new mage’s robe and clutched her spellbook like a shield.

“You’re back!” Gabriel grinned. “And alive!”

Ilazki crossed his arms. “For now.”

“We’ll rest tonight,” Louis said, “and depart in the morning.”

“You have a destination in mind?” Joaquin asked.

Louis shook his head. “Ama-Lurra recommended we come to Ilazki first. But we need guidance for the next step.”

Gwydia approached Ilazki and whispered something.

Ilazki nodded. “She suggests you visit my brother, Vishap.”

Louis’s brow furrowed. “He wasn’t at the council meeting.”

“Because he rarely leaves his post,” Ilazki said. “He resides at the highest peak on this island—training in seclusion.”

“Then we’ll go there,” Joaquin said. “It’s time Gabriel met the master of wind.”

Gabriel raised a brow. “Huh. Guess I’m due for a training montage.”

Ilazki’s expression darkened. “Reaching Vishap won’t be easy. Only those who have mastered the winds can climb his mountain. Perhaps visiting Aide—our sister who rules the skies—would be wiser.”

Louis nodded. “Then we’ll head for her post.”

High atop the mountain, where the air was thin and clouds clung to stone cliffs like ghosts, Vishap trained in silence. Each swing of his claymore cleaved through mist and rock alike. The mountain trembled with every blow.

A sudden gust signaled Aide’s arrival.

“I figured you’d be here,” she said, landing gracefully behind him.

“I haven’t left this peak in over a month,” Vishap muttered.

“Father’s champion is venturing toward my post. Soon, he’ll come to you.”

Vishap stared at the horizon. “Let me know when that happens.”

Aide turned to leave. “Goodbye, brother.”

But before she could depart fully, an icy presence fell upon the mountaintop.

Tenebrae stood there, her black cloak fluttering like torn shadows in the wind.

Vishap scowled. “What do you want, Mother?”

“Can’t I simply visit my children?” she said sweetly.

He clenched his fists. “Shut it.”

“You were always the black sheep, Vishap. A late bloomer. Even without your powers, you couldn’t master your element. How will you guide your Father’s champion, when you can’t even help yourself?”

Vishap’s eyes blazed. “I’ll never fail him. Not like I failed Ran.”

With a roar, he slammed his fist into the cliffside, splintering it. But Tenebrae only laughed—an echo that shook the summit—before vanishing into thin air.

Morning came swiftly. The group stood ready, armored and equipped.

Louis bowed before the forge. “Thank you, Lord Ilazki. Your weapons and armor will serve us well.”

“It’s my duty to arm those who stand against her,” Ilazki said. “These tools are yours now.”

Gabriel tested the edge of his new dagger. “Sharp. I like it.”

As they turned to depart, Ilazki raised a hand. “Should you meet my other siblings—give them my regards.”

Louis smiled. “Of course.”

The group departed down the mountain path, heading east toward the skies and Aide’s domain.

Back in his forge, Ilazki hammered a glowing blade into shape—but paused as a dark presence settled behind him.

“I knew it was you,” he said without turning. “That familiar, bitter chill… Hello, Mother.”

Tenebrae lounged in a chair near the wall, lips curled into a sly grin. “Why so hostile, son?”

Ilazki didn’t look at her. “Because you murdered Ran.”

“Still brooding over that?”

Ilazki’s fingers tightened around his hammer.

“You never even let her speak,” he growled. “Her final words were: ‘Why, Mother? We haven’t even talked yet…’ You didn’t even try to understand her.”

“What’s done is done,” Tenebrae replied, bored.

Ilazki turned and hurled his hammer at her, but she vanished before it struck.

“Next time,” he muttered, “I’ll strike twice.”

From the doorway, Gwydia watched silently.

“Lord Ilazki,” she asked, concerned, “is everything all right?”

He exhaled slowly. “I’m fine. Thank you, Gwydia.”

But even as he resumed his smithing, the fire in his forge seemed just a little darker than before.

Entry# 10 End