Aurelius returned to consciousness, his glabella twitching. This was the fifteenth time he had observed his soul over the past three days.

  He was horrified by that blueprint. He had no idea what it meant, nor could he hope to decipher it. He had already sent messages to Seraphine for advice, and they had agreed to meet after lessons on Thursday afternoon.

  “Isn’t that too long, considering the gravity of my situation?” Aurelius had written in his letter.

  Seraphine’s reply had been casual. “True, but He hasn’t made a demand of you yet. Until He does, you shouldn’t be disturbed. Also, I’ve got a bunchhhhh of schoolwork to do.”

  Reading the magic letter, Aurelius could only sigh. No matter what they believed about the nature of Quetzalcoatl, He was still a god!

  Yet, strangely, her carefree tone comforted him. Her lack of urgency rubbed off on him and eased his worries slightly. Their talk after the incident had also given Aurelius a clearer view of the situation.

  Furthermore, one of the prices for his revival had been revealed.

  “He wouldn’t kill me off so easily after leaving a blueprint behind…” Aurelius muttered, nursing his headache.

  “Does He want me to take up His soul-shape?” he wondered aloud.

  ???

  Thursday’s lessons were fairly typical. Arithmetic, magical history, and applications of magic filled the day. These classes were smaller, since most elemental mages replaced them with specialized electives to hone their craft.

  Applications of magic was taught by Professor Philant, who had also guided Aurelius in his work with golems and basic spellwork.

  Practical spellcasting, on the other hand, was handled by Professor Faluth, whose lessons leaned heavily on active casting and spell binding.

  Professor Faluth was much more focused on the “practice” of soul-shaping, giving Aurelius little room to ask for help with improving his craft theoretically. Professor Philant’s guidance had therefore been much more helpful to him, going through with him the theories and processes that were important to spellcasting and suggesting ways to improve his mana manipulation and soul-shaping.

  He was an older mage, always dressed in a magician’s suit, white gloves, and a tophat. Though not from the Western continent, his research had always revolved around it since his scholar days and had brought about his peculiar, distinguished fashion sense.

  His brown eyes still held a glimmer of youth, despite the deep wrinkles around them. Long white hair, tied neatly into a ponytail, matched a sharp and immaculately maintained beard.

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  “All across the world, but especially in the Southern and Western continents, a certain, brilliant applications of magic have been passed down for generations,” he lectured.

  “In the modern day, their original purpose has grown obsolete with the peace we now enjoy. However, tradition does not die so easily.”

  He drew his wand, a light stormy blue length of ivory engraved with geometric patterns, the size of a forearm.

  “They are soul-extenders,” he continued.

  “Mine is a wand crafted from one of my own forearm bones. In theory, any other bone of my body could have sufficed.”

  “It once saw widespread use in war, since soul-shapes could be directly imbued onto them for faster casting.”

  “The process is necessarily painful, as the bone must become an external piece of your soul through suffering. Only then does it leave a lasting connection.”

  “I crafted mine under the guidance of my master. I carry his legacy from the age of war, but I hope you all understand that we are fortunate to live in an era where magic builds, repairs, and forges, rather than destroys.”

  “That is the core lesson I want all my students to take away.”

  “Even so, despite the pain, I recommend aspiring scholars and adventurers to explore the process. This wand proved invaluable during my journeys through dungeons, forests, and ruins…”

  The lecture wound on, but Aurelius only listened half-heartedly. His thoughts were restless, consumed by the upcoming meeting with Seraphine. His knees bounced restlessly beneath the desk, and his pen twirled clumsily between his fingers.

  An unbearable hour later, the professor finally concluded and dismissed the class.

  Aurelius bowed slightly in thanks as he hurried out the door, making straight for the library.

  ???

  “Hello there, god summoner!” Seraphine whispered brightly as Aurelius approached her table.

  The library stretched in rows upon rows of books, grimoires left behind by generations of mages. Located underground, it was safeguarded with sealing magic to prevent theft of its more valuable tomes.

  Seraphine had picked a quiet corner, surrounded by teetering stacks of books. However, the dark bags under her eyes betrayed nights of missed sleep in her smile.

  “I was hesitant to get involved in divine bullshit at first,” she admitted, “but you need someone you trust to watch your back!”

  “And… I can’t deny I’m curious. A blessing from a deity happens maybe once a century, and even then it’s not guaranteed.”

  Aurelius rubbed his temples, bracing himself for her extroverted energy.

  “What’s with the books?” he asked.

  “We’ve been here the past few days digging into your… benefactor.” Her expression turned complicated.

  Aurelius scanned the titles stacked high beside her, taken aback by the response. Legends of Quetzalcoatl, Dragon Slayer, Elven Records of the First Age…

  The tomes were thick, many looking ancient enough to be relics themselves.

  Had she been going through them to help Aurelius discover clues to his situation? A pang of guilt struck him. He had dragged her into his strange predicament, and she was throwing herself into helping him—yet he hadn’t even thanked her. Aurelius felt his cheeks burn up slightly in shame.

  “Thank you, Seraphine. And you as well, honourable spirit, Sylven,” Aurelius said, bowing his head.

  “Don’t mention it. I still have a scholar’s heart from ages past. There’s no greater gift to me than studying a blessed of the divine,” squeaked the white mouse from Seraphine’s breast pocket.

  With a small smile and cloudy emotions, Aurelius sat down.

  He flipped through a nearby tome carelessly as Seraphine pushed a stack of books aside to make room for her notes. Sylven levitated a pen nearby, with it orbiting the books leisurely during the process.

  With preparations complete, the two ladies began to share their research and findings.