***
As days turned into nights and nights into days, the forest of Old Elevian was filled with the light of fireballs and the sound of our laughter. Under the watchful eyes of Agnes, Illyanna and I were immersed in mastering the art of the Conjuration of Fireball.
"I've gotten the hang of this one, Agnes," I remarked, releasing a controlled burst of flame from my fingertips. But as I glanced towards my little sister, I saw her struggle, her fingertips producing nothing more than a spark. The disappointment in her blue eyes was palpable.
Agnes, always observant, raised an eyebrow at me. "Max," she began, her voice tinged with curiosity, "I've noticed you conjuring a series of normal fireballs to influence the weather, compelling it to rain. Have you ever considered how much more impactful it would be with a swifter cast and a more potent version of the spell?"
I blinked, suddenly intrigued. "How do you mean?"
