Trace's room was silent, the two chairs beside the bed were vacant. His eyes opened just after the door. A bearded person walked inside the room.
The puzzled thoughts in Trace's head cleared slowly. He became conscious of his body and moved his arms. His muscles were still a bit stiff and ached just by moving a bit.
The room was neatly lit. Thus, as soon as Trace sat up, he saw the bearded person. In a split second he recognized who the person who! Waves of shock passes over his mind. How could this happen? What happened to me?
"Master…?" Trace spoke in a lot voice.
"You kept me waiting for long, for so long" an old man's voice resounded throughout the room.
It was as if the voice was complaining and contained a bit of resentment. But ultimately, it carried relief. Master still had long hair extending down his eyes. Towards the back the hair were tied in a ponytail. The straight back that existed once was now bent.
"What happened… master," Trace's voice turned hoarse.
"40 years have passed in the outside world, you have been sleeping all this time. You were by my side but Eimi..." Master shook his head.
Trace's throat turned dry, how much time was forty years? In this time a frail child could grow up to the peak of his prime and fall again. But what about a grown man? What about a girl in her youth? Forty years were enough to strip her away from purity.
Sorcerers could keep their appearances, they could look young forever but the mind doesn't stay the same. Over years it keep accumulating experiences, there was no way to preserve the innocent state of mind.
"Master… what do I do," Trace was almost in tears now.
"Don't cry my dear apprentice, it was a joke!"
Master pulled away his beard fiercely and threw it to the side. The bent back was straight like a spear again. He came closer to pat Trace's head.
"Only 8 days have passed," Master said. "But it is a long time. At a glance it might not seem much but it is priceless. So it your body."
Trace heaved a sigh and listened carefully. For his master to do put this act, there must a meaning behind it. Eight days are a lot, Miss Swirls would be really angry, Trace thought.
"The path of Sorcery is well planned and divided into steps. If you follow it as it is, you gain immense benefits. But you have missed the crucial step. You are still unable to transfer mana inside your body. Without a strong foundation how can you safely perform Sorcery?"
Trace knew the harms of using the 'senses' to detect things. He was basically, sending mana out of his rings in random directions. With concentration, he could direct the mana flow. It acted like a receptor and brought back information. But claiming the information was proving detrimental to his body.
But knowing the harms only made him scared after experiencing forty years have passed act put up by his master. Trace understood the loss that would occur to his loved ones if he ever did something like this again.
"Master, how can I increase my foundation?" Trace asked.
"Every sequence is a step before the door to the next Level. You directly opened the door of the second level. Achieve what you failed to do all those years ago. Properly step on the sequence of Level 1, make mana flow inside your body. If you have a strong body then the aftereffects of Sorcery will drastically lessen," Master said.
Methods to step on the path of a Sorcerer were released by the Federation. But the records only disclosed secrets up to the third sequence of Level 2.
The records of first Sorcerers can be dated 1000 years ago. Over the course of time many Sorcerers emerged. Different nations rose to powers and much bloodshed was ensured for years to come. But suddenly all nations sent their representatives to form a union, which is now called the Federation.
How the Sorcerers came to be? Who was the first? Which event led to the formation of the Federation? There are many answers to these questions. Different theories and rumors flow about. But perhaps an educated man or a high ranked individual would know that all of these are rumors. Many secrets about the world are shuddered under the giant mountain of the Federation.
The term, Federation, has been seemingly overused since the world saw many terrorist groups and occult organizations being crushed under special forces. In truth there were many individual countries and states. But everything belongs to the Federation, everyone comes under the jurisdiction of the Federation.
…
On the next day of waking up, Trace took a bath and wore fresh clothes. He walked to the shop room above. A little office like space with only his master present.
"Master, I will be going now," Trace said.
Master handed him a bunch of coins. Yesterday Trace was also told about his caretakers that visited. I can visit them both today, Trace looked at the coins. He thanked his master and walked out of the office.
Trace jumped down from the last step of stairs. This made his muscles ache a little. On stretching his hands, he experienced the same pain. I have to make by body strong if I want to continue, Trace looked back at the 'Detective Agency X Fortune Telling' written on the glass window.
After moving to-and-fro for a few minutes, Trace decided to walk out of the street. A carriage arrived and Trace got on. For a moment he thought of sending letters to Eimi and Noelle of his arrival but then changed his mind. If I am going there then it would be a waste of coins to send them a letter.
On the way to Eimi's house, Trace closed his eyes and meditated. A flicker of flame lit up in his mind. It kept dividing until there were seven such flames. When he moved to the city of Koyoko along with his master five years ago, this was one of the things Master taught.
In the beginning Trace easily grasped how to imagine a single flame. The next year, he was taught how to walk on the path of Sorcery. But Trace couldn't advance from the sequence one-Truce of Level 1. Thus for the subsequent years he spent more time on what he could do rather than forcing tp sequence two.
The flames in his mind danced. Every flame was controlled with precision. It was easy to control one flame or two but controlling seven together was an exhausting task. Soon all the flames froze in place. Then moved back and lined themselves in the order of their creation.
Seven flames turned into five, then into three. Instantly there was only one flame left. Trace willed the flickering flame started bubbling. It slowly turned into the figure of a person. Flames danced on its body and hair waved violently.
Tap tap tap. Knocks on the carriage turned louder. The flame figure disintegrated and Trace's eyes snapped open. A voice flooded inside his ears.
"Wake up Keneone Street is here! Sir…"