87th of Season of Air, 58th year of the 32nd cycle

Newt sat in his testing room in the Chamber of Runes. He couldn't tell when he had started enjoying examining spell seals, due to his unique realm layout, the activity felt nearly identical to sculpting, and as his understanding grew, so did his potential.

Even with Dandelion designing the exact blueprint, understanding what he had done and why was also an important part of Newt's path. He was slowly making his way through spell seals fit for fourth realm scribes, but like with all things, the higher the realm, the wider the field became.

The spell seal he was studying would have been a great treasure a year ago. It explained how to change the ambient mana's attribute from fire to earth. While he no longer planned to have anything similar within his realm, the mysteries behind the energy conversion were fascinating in their own right.

A sudden knock pulled Newt's mind back towards the material world.

"Yes?"

"Sir Salamandra, your guest requests a meeting with you."

Finally. Newt stood and left the chamber.

"Thank you."

Despite his impatience, Newt didn't expect Dandelion would finish his task so quickly. Just drawing the blueprint must have taken days, and yet he managed to finish the entire job in less than two moons.

Compared to him, Newt was much slower. It had taken him two days just to push Lady Woodhopper out of his mind and focus on work.

A week later, when he went to visit his friends again and confirmed that Obi indeed had a new girlfriend, he thought it was unfair. A rational part of him knew that Obi courting a woman his own realm and approximate age was different from his crush, but it still made him feel bitter.

Then he learned that she and Obi had both failed their trial, and it reinforced what Lady Woodhopper had said — you can have one or the other. Never both.

He also learned that Emeraldstreak had placed second by climbing the tower for six days. That news cemented Newt's belief that the woman was crazy, or driven, as champions would probably call her condition.

Then again, Newt could also be called crazy, spending weeks studying, pausing only to eat from time to time. And he looked forward to Dandelion's blueprint almost as much as he looked forward to a letter from his parents. Possibly more.

Newt's steps faltered when he realized he cared about the blueprint more than about a word from his parents.

When did I become like this? Why did I become like this?

Newt continued towards Dandelion's lodgings considering those questions, but found no answers. Maybe it was because he knew his parents were alive and well.

When he reached the humble building made of planks, Dandelion was already waiting.

"Come in, Newt."

Newt entered the building, and Dandelion's ridiculous defensive spell seal sprang to life as soon as the door closed, completing the frail circuit.

"Members of your order have spied on me seven times." Newt almost jumped, but Dandelion placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "I was developing the blueprint within my realm, so other than me sitting still, they had little to see. They gave up after two weeks of seeing me meditate constantly—"

The barrier burst.

"Thank you for your concern, Senior. We are fine. There is no reason for worry," Dandelion said without hesitation, and the spell seal sprang back to life.

"I think they are trying to crack my seal, but that's exactly the problem. Cracking it causes it to collapse. Anyway, I have completed what I promised I would do." Dandelion showed the pile of papers on the table stunning Newt. He had expected ten sheets at most, since his previous realm blueprint was four pages of intricately drawn spell formations. A hundred and twenty lay on the table, at the very least.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

"Please refrain from having a stroke." Dandelion chuckled. "I have disguised the blueprint, since we have people spying on me. Only the top part of the paper is important; the rest is random rambling on spell seals. That is not to say my rambling is useless. You should read it. It should help you advance your knowledge of spell formations, but the real message is hidden."

Dandelion gathered the papers and handed them to Newt.

"The pages are numbered, but I did not bind them into a book, for ease of use. I must warn you, though, that this is probably not the most optimal realm blueprint. The highest grade of spell formations I can master at our realm is the sixth. If you want to wait for some three hundred years, I can deliver a much better piece. At least twenty percent more efficient."

Newt gawked, and Dandelion burst into laughter.

"I knew you would react that way. I agree with you wholeheartedly, wasting three centuries and your potential is not worth the improvement you may or may not be able to put into practice. Why the long face? You cannot seriously tell me you are disappointed."

Newt shook his head.

"No, it's not that. I'm seriously considering waiting three centuries for those improvements. It might be worth it."

"Newstar, look at me." Dandelion squeezed Newt's shoulder, and the youth raised his gaze to meet his big brother's. "Time waits for no man. Your order might get destroyed tomorrow, others might learn of your secrets and start hounding you. mana itself may fail. Every bit of strength you can have, you seize. Now."

He slapped the stack of papers.

"This here will already make you one of the strongest third realmers. On par with the royals probably, perhaps even the imperials. There is a theoretical draft for the fourth realm blueprint you can make yourself. Should something happen, and I am unavailable or unable to make a better blueprint than what I have, use it, improve on it. I know you can do it. Trust me. You are a star."

For some reason, Newt didn't like Dandelion's forced smile. There was sorrow in the man's eyes he did not understand.

Suddenly, Dandelion clipped him on the back of the head.

"No need to look at me like that. I intend to lead a long and happy life, trying to reach immortality. But I may not always be within reach. If I hear your order is in danger or something, I will help as much as I can. And I promise to write from time to time."

The promise didn't seem to help Newt, but Dandelion waited in silence, armed with patience.

"Big brother," Newt hesitated, and Dandelion remained silent, letting his friend sculpt his thoughts into words. "What's the point?"

Dandelion's lip twitched into an ugly half-smile.

"What is the point of what?"

"Ascending."

"Ah, that one is easy. The point of ascending is to challenge the heavens, to fight against fate and mortality, and to become master of oneself by creating an inner realm which houses our essence and reflects our being."

Newt blinked.

"That would be the compilation of all the decent definitions I have read on the subject. If you are asking what I personally believe, I would say ascension is a tool. A tool often misused."

Newt furrowed his brow, trying to keep up.

"A tool? What sort of tool?"

"Well, you could call it a tool of the soul, but that is of lesser importance. The more important question is what is the tool meant for."

"And what is it meant for?" Newt's eyes burned with his yearning to get the answer.

"To realize ourselves. To help us become more real. I even think it was originally a tool meant to achieve happiness and unity with the world, but we have gone astray, made it foul, or maybe humanity never walked that path to begin with. I cannot say for certain, you can never trust history."

Newt didn't understand, and Dandelion only smirked.

"What is the cause of your doubt? You certainly have found your path, follow it. All doubt should disperse as long as you stay true to yourself."

"But what about love, friendship, family?"

Dandelion shrugged. "You and I are friends. Should you die tomorrow and there is nothing I can do about it, you will be my dear friend who passed away tragically. I know you would feel the same sentiment about me should I die, and I hope you try to help me if I am facing a lethal threat, assuming you are not throwing your life away by getting involved."

Newt once more gawked, wondering whether Dandelion had gone mad to broach such inauspicious subjects like common topics.

"Family and love are the same. I am a poor advisor on such matters, but someone very dear to me, someone I loved more than life itself, told me you should learn to let go. To accept loss and move on. I could not, would not." A self-deprecating laugh escaped Dandelion, his eyes focused on some distant place. "I do not believe I will ever reach the point where I can move on. To not give my all, when I know I can do better."

He shook his head, and sanity returned to him.

"I must apologize. I will give you only poor advice on this subject. Maybe you should talk with one of your seniors, someone you can trust. My advice remains the same as what I told you back at Hailstown. You are young, you lack life experience, so if it does not hurt your realm, drink, eat, fornicate, drown yourself in sin from time to time, for without sin you will only see one facet of life."

Dandelion roared a laugh. "My advice is horrible. Your seniors will probably tell you to shut yourself in a cave and meditate, as you should."

Something was strange about Dandelion, but Newt couldn't figure out what. The ancient man noticed the questioning gaze and grew serious.

"I apologize. I have spent too much time locked up in here, perfecting the manuscript. I best get going."

Newt watched him leave, wondering what it was that made him think Dandelion was ancient. For a brief moment, the weight of time and experience in his eyes dwarfed the disciplinary chaplain's.

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