Upon arriving home, Tyrese wasted no time. He took a bath, prepared his infusion, and felt a small measure of relief as the warm liquid eased his pounding headache.
Now I need to decide what to do, he thought, sitting on the edge of his bed. Even though venturing into the Ancient Forest seems reckless, I can't just give up. There's still plenty of time before tomorrow. First, I'll train through visualization. After that, I'll draw as many sigils as my Willpower allows. Tomorrow, I'll explore the forest and return to the Lost Sanctuary.
With his plan set, Tyrese settled into a cross-legged position on the floor. He took a deep breath and began to clear his mind, channeling his Willpower inward. Slowly, the waking world faded away, and he found himself once more in his mental place.
Before him stood the sanctuary, still under construction. Its grand pillars reached skyward, unfinished and raw, and the interior consisted of a single hall, open to the infinite void above where a ceiling should have been. Beyond the sanctuary, there was nothing—only endless emptiness, a void stretching endlessly in all directions, making it seem as though the sanctuary floated in an eternal sea of infinity.
Tyrese sat cross-legged in the center of the hall, his gaze steady. "In here, I don't need to draw sigils to create. Intent is all that matters. The more vivid the construction, the better."
He closed his eyes and focused. "I'll start with something simple… sand."
In his mind, he imagined sand gathering around the sanctuary, grain by grain. His focus was sharper than ever, his thoughts crystalline and unyielding. Slowly, the sand materialized, swirling around the sanctuary. It was golden, radiant, indistinguishable from the finest gold dust. Yet Tyrese remained in a trance-like state, his intent unwavering.
He continued, his imagination unbound. The sand fused, forming a smooth golden landscape that surrounded the sanctuary. Then came grass—short, vibrant blades of green—soft yet resilient, spreading over the golden ground. A gentle breeze swept through, brushing against the grass in delicate waves.
The sanctuary itself began to shift. Its unfinished ceiling started to take form, inch by inch, as if evolving with Tyrese's growing intent. When he finally opened his eyes, he saw that the hall had expanded ever so slightly—perhaps by a meter, barely noticeable, yet he could feel the change deep within.
In the center of the hall, he noticed something new: a small pedestal, upon which the beginnings of what resembled a throne were taking shape. Tyrese exhaled slowly, standing and stepping outside.
The sight took his breath away. Surrounding the sanctuary, the golden ground stretched five meters in every direction, shimmering with a heavenly glow. The short green grass danced lightly in the breeze, each blade alive with vitality. He felt a strange sense of rightness, as if this was how it had always meant to be.
It's beautiful… but it feels like this how it was always meant to be.
Back in the waking world, Tyrese's eyes fluttered open. His body felt light, his mind calm. Yet something about his Willpower was different. Focusing inward, he examined the spiral of energy in his heart. Where it had once been diffuse, it was now concentrating, slowly gathering into a single, cohesive core.
The quantity hadn't changed, but the quality was drastically different—it was as though his Willpower had been refined, distilled into something sharper, more potent. While it felt undeniably powerful, it also carried an air of unfamiliarity, even a sense of unnatural transformation.
His thoughts lingered on the omnipotence he had felt in his mental place. What once seemed awe-inspiring now felt absurd, almost alien, in retrospect. He ran a hand through his hair, the weight of the unknown pressing down on him.
"I feel like my life is shifting toward something far beyond what I can comprehend," he murmured, his voice barely audible in the stillness of the room. "Hopefully, I'll get some answers tomorrow."
Rising to his feet, Tyrese moved to the window. The world outside was cloaked in darkness, the faint glow of twin moons illuminating the quiet streets of Solhollow. Glancing at the celestial timekeeper on his wall, he saw it was the 30th hour.
Ten hours… he realized, astonished. I spent over ten hours in my mental place without even noticing.
The first day of the week arrived—the sixth day of Emberleaf, in the 1465th cycle of the twin suns. Tyrese woke up feeling remarkably refreshed. For the first time since the incident during his first training, he had slept peacefully, free from the pounding headaches and haunting visions. In fact, he couldn't remember the last time he felt this well-rested.
The twin suns, Durnas and Veyra, were just beginning to crest the horizon, their golden light spilling over the town of Solhollow. Tyrese stretched and moved through his morning routine, savoring the strange but welcome clarity of his mind. After a quick breakfast, he decided to head to the bustling marketplace to purchase a sigil-inscribing stylus.
The training styluses they used at the Church weren't theirs to keep, and Tyrese didn't want to borrow one for his personal use. On the way back home, he stopped to gather several smooth rocks from the roadside—materials for practice and testing.
Back in his small room, Tyrese prepared himself for the task ahead. He cleared his bed of clutter, placed the rocks neatly beside him, and sat cross-legged with his new stylus in hand. It was a simple yet elegant tool—crafted of polished steel, with intricate sigils etched into its surface to help channel the user's Willpower.
Taking a deep breath, Tyrese steadied his hand and began with a protection sigil. He carefully drew a symbol on his left forearm, the stylus gliding smoothly over his skin as he created an intricate design resembling a sphere encasing a small figure. Around the sphere, he added lines to mimic rays of light radiating outward, giving the sigil a protective aura.
Once the symbol was complete, Tyrese closed his eyes and drew a deep breath, steadying himself. He directed his Willpower into the sigil, feeling the energy flow through him as he poured his intent into the intricate lines.
In his mind's eye, he visualized a radiant barrier forming around him—a translucent sphere of glowing energy, impenetrable yet flexible. He imagined it as a shield that could repel any attack, though he knew its strength would depend on the force it faced. The barrier shimmered in his thoughts, allowing his strikes to pass through while deflecting anything that sought to harm him.
The sigil etched on his arm began to glow faintly, its light pulsing in rhythm with his heartbeat. The energy coalesced, settling into place as the sigil's power stabilized. Tyrese exhaled slowly, his eyes still closed, sensing the faint hum of power surrounding him.
He opened his eyes and examined the sigil, surprised that its form remained unchanged. A sense of satisfaction coursed through him—it felt solid, more stable than his previous attempts during training.
Encouraged, he moved to the next sigil: fireball. On his right arm, he inscribed a design resembling a small flame contained within a circle. With deliberate strokes, he added a fiery flourish, shaping the symbol to resemble a miniature sun. Once more, he poured his Willpower into the sigil, his intent focused on creating a fist-sized orb of searing fire.
This time, as the sigil settled, it shifted slightly, its lines transforming into a more intricate design—one that radiated a little heat even before activation. Tyrese frowned but dismissed his unease.
Next, he worked on sigils for speed and power, drawing them on his legs and arms. The sigil of speed resembled a pair of wings in motion, while the sigil of power was a symbol of crossed axes encased in a circular frame. Each time he focused his Willpower and intent, the sigils glowed brightly, humming with energy before dimming to an idle state.
Finally, he moved to his chest, where he carefully inscribed a concealment sigil. This one was more complex, shaped like an eye with a line drawn through it—a representation of obscurity and invisibility. He focused his intent on being less detectable, his presence blending into the background to avoid notice.
By the time he finished, Tyrese had drawn a total of fifteen sigils across his body. These included additional protection sigils, offensive ones resembling basic elemental abilities for one time use on the rocks he had gather and utility sigils on his body for enhanced perception and durability. He sat back, marveling at his handiwork.
Tyrese stood up, flexing his fingers and stretching his limbs. It was time to test the sigils. He began with the protection sigil, activating it with a pulse of Willpower. A glowing barrier sprang to life around him, encasing his body in a translucent sphere of light. The barrier was glowing lightly, it felt sturdier than what he envisioned.
Next, he activated the fireball sigil on his right arm. A sphere of flame formed in his palm, larger and hotter than he had anticipated. The heat was intense, radiating outward like a miniature sun. He extinguished it quickly, surprised by its potency.
Moving on, he tested the speed sigil on his legs. The moment he activated it, he felt a surge of energy propel him forward with incredible swiftness, almost making him hit the wall. The burst was brief but exhilarating, as though his body had momentarily become weightless.
The power sigil on his arms followed. He punched the air experimentally and felt the raw strength coursing through him, his strikes creating faint shockwaves. The sensation was almost intoxicating.
Finally, he activated the concealment sigil. It didn't render him invisible, but he felt his presence diminish, as though he were fading into the background. He tested this by walking past a mirror and was startled to see how faint his reflection appeared—blurred and indistinct.
As he deactivated the sigils one by one, Tyrese couldn't ignore the odd sensation lingering in his chest. Drawing and activating fifteen sigils should have taxed his mental capacity beyond its limits, yet he felt no strain—no sign of exhaustion or depletion.
In fact, he felt as though he could continue drawing indefinitely. His Willpower, refined and concentrated after his time in the mental place, seemed limitless.
"This is absurd," he muttered, his voice barely audible. The power coursing through him was both exhilarating and unnerving. He looked down at his hands, flexing them as if trying to grasp the intangible changes within him.
His gaze shifted to the rest of the rocks he had gathered earlier. Testing his sigils had revealed something unsettling—something he couldn't explain. His abilities had surpassed what a novice should be capable of. After just one night of training, how could this be possible?
He clenched his fists, determination hardening his expression. "The answers lie in the sanctuary," he said to himself. "I'm sure of it."
As he looked out the window, the twin suns hung higher in the sky, their light casting long shadows over Solhollow. The celestial timekeeper on the wall ticked steadily, marking the hours.
It was time to go.