"Hail, Skip!" Tenoris yelled joyously as he approached the temple's courtyard. "Do my eyes deceive me, for it appears you have grown. And where are your clothes? Do not tell me you have spent all this time bathing in the mountain's springs, avoiding your trials."

"Tenoris," he grinned, embracing his companion. It was true–where before Skippii had only reached his chest, now he could almost meet the big farmhand's eyes. Arms clasped, a sudden gust of emotion swept through him, swirling in his heart.

"Did I ever thank you properly, my brother, for coming here?"

Tenoris' face effortlessly reflected the earnestness in his, bereft of the hesitation or avoidance which many unsure men possessed. "Not in words. But now you have done, and all is well."

Behind him, a small, tanned figure wearing grey clothes scampered from the temple's halls into the light of day. Cliae came running over, bewilderment in their green eyes. "You're taller."

"So it seems," he laughed. "Or else the whole world has shrunk."

"How did it go?" they stammered.

"Well, I suppose. There's much to tell, and I would rather Eirene be here for it. Where is she?"

"I'll fetch her, and…" Claie's eyes drifted down to his naked waist. "A spare tunic."

"That would be wise," Tenoris said sagely.

The four of them spent the day in the stone courtyard, resting in the shade of one of its old fruit trees while Skippii shared his tale. As he explained the complexity of the first trial, Cliae worked on the wolf hide, which had since been strung to a tanning rack. Tenoris sat uncomfortably on a blanket which Eirene had laid over the stone, until finally, the hermit relented and fetched more stools from her stores. The old woman seemed to have recovered well since her brush with death one night prior.

"I would rather hear your tale where I could record it in ledger," she said.

"I would agree," Skippii said. "But the sunlight's just too nice. This spring day is the finest we've had this year."

"What do you need, avita?" Tenoris said. "I shall fetch it."

"My ledgers, my quill and ink. A wax tablet and my oak table."

"Consider it done."

Once the table was brought outdoors and set with provisions, Skippii continued. He told of his second trial, and how it had nearly cost his life.

"I wasn't strong enough," he said, shaking his head. "Everything I've been developing with the ordinatio… it felt as though I've been working laterally, across a flat plain. I've discovered new ways to use this tool of magia, how to extend it, but not strengthen it. And I met my match."

"But you persevered," Tenoris said proudly. "How?"

Skippii snorted. "More of the same. Two new abilities." He glanced at Cliae, and saw there a look of wonder in their eyes. "Oh, but we do have a lot of work to do."

Cliae smiled faintly, as though in a dream. "I look forward to it."

"What was next?" Tenoris said eagerly. "What could make for more of a trial than such a tremendous foe?"

Skippii swallowed, his throat dry. Taking a sip, his eyes wandered to the temple's black marble pillars as he searched for the right words. "Have you ever…" he started, but realised that wasn't right. "Beasts can kill the flesh, but there's something much more terrible that can crush the soul."

"Desolation," Eirene whispered. "Despair."

"Precisely," he said. "Oyaltun showed me visions… I believe it was her, who else could it be? But they were glimpses of my life, and the lives of others. They were…" He trailed off, shaking his head.

"You need not share what is private," Tenoris said.

"It's okay," he said, taking a deep breath. "It's a bit raw. They stripped me of my mind, piece by piece, to see what was beneath. And they watched the entire time."

"To witness your core," Eirene said. "To measure you."

"Yeah," he agreed gravelly.

"And you withstood it?" Tenoris asked.

"I weathered it," he said quietly. "And I rose above it." Straightening himself, he gazed at the sky. "Not for them though. Not for anyone else. For myself."

Eirene purred contently in the sunlight. "Good."

"Are you okay?" Cliae said. "Do you need to rest?"

"No," he smiled. "I am okay, thank you. Better than ever. Besides, there's no time for rest, even if I wanted it."

"What is next?" Tenoris asked.

"I'm gonna see what else has changed about me," he grinned. "I'm going to test what exactly this new magia can do. Sure, I'm taller, but no… Something else has changed. I can feel it."

"First, follow me." Eirene set aside her quill and rose. "You must transcribe what magia you have ordained upon the walls, that I can record and preserve it."

He took her arm and was led into the temple, whereupon she led him to a wide, low-roofed room. The floors were made of the same mosaic as which carpeted the rest of the temple, but the walls, rather than be made of seamless black marble, were instead the grey rock of the mountainside. They were bare, the furnishings drab, merely a stool and brush in one corner.

"Touch the wall," Eirene said. "Focus your mind. Close your eyes."

He obeyed.

"Focus on your ordinatio. Picture each of the abilities which you have forged. Make them distinct. Bring them to the surface. Yes, like that, but do not cast them. Hold them in your mind's eye."

Skippii's body filled with a calming heat as he followed her instruction.

"Feel them in your body, then move to the next. You must know by now, Skippii, your powers are not wholly formed from Cor, but in some parts, by Oyaltun herself."

"What?" he said, head snapping around.

"Stay focussed," she hissed. "It should not come as a surprise. All the gifts of sentience and intellect come from her Sentiescence. Some possess more than others; some, the talents of foresight and vision."

"Vision," he whispered. "I knew it."

"Yes, yes," Eirene dismissed. "You are acclaimed. We have discussed this. Now focus. Your ordinatio–recite it."

Swallowing a sense of displeasure, Skippii cycled through each of his abilities. Lastly, he envisioned those which he had recently developed: that which he called Blister Arrow and Siphon Flame.

"Once you are finished, open your eyes."

Doing so, he noticed that an orange glow had come over the dim hall. Turning, he beheld a wall decorated in soft flame, burning in the grooves of many symbols, which strung together to form words. Pacing backwards, he marvelled at the inscriptions–geometric symbols forming an indecipherable web. With the growing light, entire tablets emerged from the cold grey stone, stretching through the hall as numerous as the tally of every companeight in the legion.

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

He strode farthest left and inspected each in turn. At first, the inscriptions made no sense to him. But as he gazed, they reformed in his mind, like the eyes focussing on something distant. Words appeared to him in Auctorian. The shift dizzied him, and the beginnings of a headache throbbed in his mind.

"Do not contest it," Eirene said. "Let her vision flow through you."

"I've had enough of visions for one day," Skippii said, rubbing his bleary eyes.

"Do not contest it, for it will only cause you pain. Do not tarry."

He gazed down the length of the wall, entranced by the light, which possessed a glow of its own, beyond his magia now.

"You have developed much in such a short time," Eirene said. "I see some application of your magia which I might have devised myself, but much which I had not foretold."

"You can read it?"

"Yes, slowly. There are texts which I possess that teach this language. Now read them allowed. Let me hear it from your own lips. Do me this pleasure, please."

"Can you read it?" He turned to his companions.

"It is like no text I have ever seen," Tenoris said.

"Stare at it for a while," he said. "Do your eyes adjust?"

Cliae shook their head, confused. "No. Do yours?"

"Oyaltun plays tricks on my mind."

Tenoris gasped. "She has bestowed you the gift of translation?"

"Yeah, without asking."

Cliae darted out and came back with a haul of wax tablets. He had never seen the young scribe so infused. He looked back at the wall and the symbols shifted into focus. They seemed to be divided into three sections lengthways across the wall–each reflecting a layer of his core. The rock beneath each layer was burned a different shade, firstly auburn brown, then a scalded bronze, and finally, a burnished brass. At the centre of each layer was a large symbol from which his ordained abilities branched. As he gazed at those symbols, they translated before his eyes. He read the topmost aloud.

Eruption Aura

The genesis of power; the catalyst of an action and the spark of one's cunning thought. The surface flame and heat, and its lifting of mankind from the primitive to their stage beneath the heavens.

Blinking, he shook his head and the inscription faded back into the weavings of a complex geometric puzzle.

"Stop doing that," Eirene chided. "Don't fight it."

Starting with the furthest branch, Skippii read each ability which shone inside the Eruption Aura.

Enkindle Flames

The rapid ignition of combustible materials, setting them alight at the touch or near proximity.

Whereupon he read his most familiar ability, Blazing Fist, the words formed slowly, as a cloud gathering from a thin white to a solid grey. Blazing appeared first, but it was followed by a different word.

Blazing Strike

The direction of a burning heat in the limbs, wielded through as a bludgeoning, burning weapon.

That much of the description was familiar to him, but an addition to it shone brighter, as golden light:

The fires have intensified, coating one's limbs, improving speed and ferocity of one's strike.

"That's new," Cliae said, scratching in their tablet. "Have you noticed a difference?"

"No," Skippii scowled. "In fact, Blazing Fists proved especially unuseful against the stone golems in my second trial." Eager to solve the mystery, he summoned his magia and channeled it into his knuckles. There, flames appeared, as bright as any watchman's brazier, yet as light as ash.

"That feels good," he sighed. "It comes so easily now."

"Skippii the beacon," Tenoris grinned. "Tell us what else has developed within you. I have seen this one before."

"Alright," Skippii laughed, extinguishing the flames with a thought. "Not easily impressed anymore, are you?"

"After what I've witnessed, you will have to do better than that."

He continued along Enkindle's layer.

Blazing Armour

Fires coat one's body in a repulsive shield, bolstering resilience and deterring the sting of a blade.

Below it, again, an extra passage glowed brighter, then faded as he read it aloud.

Fires wreath the flesh, burning all who stray too close.

"Better be careful with that then," Skippii said.

"How many tunics and cloaks must we expend upon our quest?" Tenoris said.

"We'll need a whole supply train of wares just to keep you from being naked," Cliae joked. "Though, I would like to know where we're going before I arrange such a thing."

"You'll arrange it?" Skippii said.

Cliae bowed their head, hiding a coy smile. "As your scribe, it's my duty."

"I expect you'll want paying this time?"

"You said it yourself." Cliae raised their smooth chin to meet his eyes. "I'm a slave no more."

Tenoris chuckled deeply. "We have yet to depart, and already, our journey is already proving quite expensive. What, may I ask, do you plan on paying Eirene for her services rendered?"

"I will receive payment when my time comes," she said. "It is not your concern. Now stop distracting the heres. I have waited all my life for him to complete the trials and to hear him speak. Hold your tongue, legionnaire. And you too, scribe. Talk of tunics while here stands before you the heres of Cor, himself awakened."

Tenoris' eyes widened and he gave Skippii a knowing look, pursing his lips shut exaggeratedly. He grinned, but turned away so Eirene could not see it. There were few interruptions after that.

Firetail Lance

A spear, once endowed with flames of fury, is launched like a lance, empowered by a firetail for an explosive impact.

Siphon Flame

Naked flame, born of nature or magia, feeds one's own essence.

Flashfire Snare

A rune is cast upon which a power abides, awaiting the presence of a foe to strike with smoke and flame.

Reaching the far right of the wall, he returned to the centre and read the primary symbol on the second layer.

Lava Essence

Tempest and wrath; the forges of war, and uncontainable fury.

"That's new as well," Claie said excitedly.

"Sort of," Skippii admitted. "I didn't tell you because, well… it doesn't matter now. But I managed to expand my core once again while I fought the Coven. Yeah, Lava Essence… That makes sense. I felt it in my blood–a swirling liquid smoke."

"What do they read?" they breathed irreverently, stylis poised over wax.

"Boiling Blood," he pointed. "But this part is glowing brighter. It's changed already. Gotten stronger."

"Read it," they urged.

Boiling Blood

Volcanic energy imbues one's body with athletic prowess, like veins of lava under the earth, so too does the body radiate with tremendous and prolonged speed and agility, beyond the effects of fatigue.

Blister Arrow

Objects such as rock and metal succumb to one's clenched heat, melted into superheated projectiles.

Finally, he examined the third core symbol upon the bottom row:

Magmatic Core

The Primordial essence; the absolution of self and attunement with Cor. The ancient elemental energy of the earth, burgeoning with potent magia.

Only one ability was transcribed there, though Skippii was already imagining new ways to bend this layer in new ways to create weapons to fill in the cracks of his armoury.

Seismic Quake

Shockwaves rupture the earth, blowing apart the crust with violent tremors. Summoned upon a steady command, such explosive energy flows easily through one's being without fatigue nor hindrance.

"This too has changed," he said. "Before, when I first summoned the ability, I passed out cold from the exertion. But since then, it has come easier. And when I used it in the cave–during the second trial–I hardly felt hindered at all."

"There are times when your strength will advance on its own," Eirene said. "And other times, when you reach a limit. Then, absolution is required."

"You mean more trials?" he asked.

"Perhaps," she said. "Though, I have only ever known this temple."

"There may be more?"

"Maybe," she said. "Or trials of some other sort. I do not know."

He smiled, stroking her shoulder. "This is more than enough to work with. Thank you for guiding me."

"What are you thinking?" Cliae said.

"I want to push them all." He flexed his fingers, excitement rising within. "See what I can do with them. Maybe combine a few. Here, look."

He pointed at the Flashfire Trap evocation. It began in his Eruption Aura, but the auburn colouration of rock stretched downwards, merging in the middle with the rising brass of his Magmatic Core.

"I think this evocation combines both essences. That's how it felt to cast, anyway. If I can combine my powers like this, I wonder what other combinations I could make."

"What about developing more within Lava Essence and Magmatic Core?" Cliae said. "Those are lacking compared to your top-layer abilities."

"It reminds me of Drusilla," Tenoris said. "Who lifted weights to make his arms much bigger, but breathed all the heavier upon a long march. Do not neglect your foundations."

Skippii laughed exasperatedly. "Tenoris, a couple days ago, I had no idea what any of this was. I didn't know I had a foundation. Give me a break."

The big legionnaire tutted playfully. "Excuses don't harvest the crops."

"Right," he smiled. "There are, in fact, some gaps in my armoury which I'd like to address. Brute strength, for one. Blazing Fist and Blazing Armour worked well enough against the Ürkün barbarians, but against creatures like the constructs, they weren't enough. Cyclops roam these mountains. It has been on my mind. I need something that will enable me to properly face a foe like that. Something…" he shook his head. "Powerful, and decisive."

"Right then," Cliae said, lowering their wax tablet. "We've talked long enough. Let's see it."

Skippii's frown was sweetened by a soft smile. "I am not the only one who has changed, it seems. You have finally stopped grovelling with every other sentence."

Cliae glanced away, embarrassed, but a grin crossed their lips as they added, "Pardon me, my legio."

Together, they strode from the temple halls towards the courtyard, jostling one another like boys on a spring day, excited for life, and the adventure of the day.

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