At the Temple
After dinner, the children returned to their cottages—some to rest, others to whisper and laugh beneath the soft lantern light. But for the young prince, peace was a stranger. All around him, eyes followed—unseen yet unmistakably present, observing his every step, guarding and judging alike.
He felt them in the air, like invisible sentinels cloaked in silence. But he chose to ignore it, pretending they were nothing more than loyal shadows assigned to protect him.
Xerxez and Matheros made their way toward the temple. Inside, the vast hall shimmered with dim golden light reflected off the polished marble. There, seated in the center upon a round mat, was Teacher Devein—legs crossed, motionless, as though carved from stone. His eyes were closed, his breathing steady, and before him lay an ancient tome spread open across the floor, its pages faintly glowing with a breath of fading enchantment.
"Come in," Devein's voice echoed softly. His eyes never opened, yet his tone struck with perfect awareness. "Sit before me."
The boys glanced at each other, exchanging a quiet laugh. Their footsteps were light as feathers, careful not to disturb the tranquil stillness of the temple.
But the teacher's words had caught them before they even reached the center.
"How did he know we were here… without even looking?" Matheros whispered, his voice tinged with awe.
"Maybe…" Xerxez murmured, his gaze fixed on the serene old man, "…he's a foresseer."
They sat down before the teacher, their eyes instantly drawn to the open pages of the ancient tome. The letters shimmered like living fireflies, rearranging themselves into new phrases with every blink. Images shifted and breathed upon the parchment—mountains moved, stars twirled in miniature skies, and rivers of light streamed between the words.
"Whoa… this is fantastic!" Matheros blurted out, eyes wide with wonder.
"Ch! Shhhh…" Teacher Devein hushed him gently without breaking his meditative posture. His voice carried calm authority, like ripples across still water.
"Do what I am doing," he murmured, eyes still closed. "Close your eyes… listen to the voice of your heart, and follow the light that appears within your mind."
Matheros tilted his head slightly. "So, this is like our lesson this morning?"
"More like it," Devein replied quietly. "But tonight's teaching is different from what any other master would show you. Now—follow me. Both of you, hold my hands."
"Sure, okay!" the boys answered in unison, excitement barely contained.
Silence filled the temple once more. The air grew thick with unseen energy. Slowly, a faint glow began to radiate from their joined hands, threads of light weaving between them like living veins of spirit.
Xerxez felt his heartbeat slow—then rise, powerful and synchronized with something vast and ancient. The warmth of Teacher Devein's hand pulsed with a rhythm not his own, and a strange current surged through his veins, whispering in a language of pure energy.
Their breathing deepened. Matheros trembled slightly, feeling the air hum around them. The light in their minds began as small sparks, then bloomed—gentle but pure, like dawn rising behind their eyelids.
Teacher Devein's voice drifted into their consciousness, distant yet clear:
"Let your soul remember what your flesh has forgotten…"
Xerxez gasped softly. "I feel… something—an energy, powerful and vast… like a guardian spirit empowering my soul."
"Now… think about a flame," Devein instructed softly, his voice calm yet commanding. His eyes remained closed, unmoved, as though his spirit alone spoke. "Feel the energy that grows in your palm. Do not force it—let it breathe through you."
The two boys obeyed, their brows furrowed in concentration. Their palms faced upward, trembling slightly as they focused their will. The air around them thickened, humming faintly with invisible resonance.
Then—spark.
Tiny lights flickered between their fingers like newborn fireflies. The warmth swelled, and soon a faint flame danced above their hands, glowing against the dim temple light.
Matheros gasped, his eyes reflecting the glow. His flame burned with a cool, ethereal hue—blue, shimmering like water under moonlight.
"Whoa… this is incredible!" he exclaimed, his voice echoing softly through the marble hall. "I can actually see it—it's real flame!"
Beside him, Xerxez's breath caught as small motes of light drifted from his palms, spiraling upward into the air. "Me too! I can see light—floating like stars!" he said, his tone rippling with wonder.
Teacher Devein's lips curved slightly, almost into a smile, though his eyes never opened. "Good… your inner elements have begun to awaken. What you see is not fire—nor water—but the essence that defines you. Remember this feeling, for it will guide you when darkness comes."
The boys looked at their hands again, their hearts pounding—not from fear, but from awe. For the first time, they could see the unseen world breathing through them.
"Tomorrow night, at the same hour," Devein said, rising slowly from his posture, his calm voice echoing faintly within the temple walls. "Both of you must return here to continue your training."
"Yes, Teacher," Xerxez replied with a small bow, gratitude lighting his eyes. "I'm… happy. At least now we both know how to form a flame — even just a small awakening."
Matheros grinned, his tone light and teasing. "Yeah! My classmates are going to be shocked when they see this. Heh… they'll be jealous for sure."
Devein's eyes opened slightly, his calm gaze turning firm. "Enough boasting over such a small step. You sound like a hunter proud of catching a shadow. Do not let arrogance dull your growth — it's not a good path to walk."
Matheros scratched the back of his head, smiling sheepishly. "I just wanted to prove to them that Thallerion kids aren't hopeless. They've been talking — saying we're too dull to awaken our flames."
"Let them talk," Devein replied, his tone soft but unwavering. "Do not waste energy proving them wrong. Instead, show them through your strength — not with pride, but with purpose. Inspire them, don't compete with them."
A brief silence followed, broken only by the flicker of the candlelight. Then Xerxez, who had been staring at the ancient tome, spoke quietly.
"Teacher Devein… this book — is it magic? The letters, they were… moving, and glowing. Why?"
Devein drew a slow, steady breath, his expression calm yet reverent. "This book… is known as the Book of Orion." He paused, letting the name linger in the air like an echo of ancient power. "Or rather… this is a copy of it. The elders once poured fragments of their spirit energy into each page, binding their knowledge to its form. Every letter you see is alive — breathing with the remnants of their essence. But even so… the copy is incomplete."
"Whoa…" Matheros breathed, his eyes glimmering with awe as he gazed at the glowing tome. "That's… amazing. They created it with their spirit energy?"
Devein nodded. "Yes. What you see before you is not ink and parchment — it is the crystallized wisdom of souls who transcended mortality."
Xerxez leaned forward, curiosity sharpening his tone. "If this is just a copy… then where's the original?"
Devein's lips curved into a faint, approving smile. "A good question, young prince." His voice grew low, almost a whisper carried by memory. "When Orion's Chosen One — the last bearer of divine flame — perished, the original book vanished without a trace. Some say it was reclaimed by Orion himself… others believe it sleeps somewhere beneath the roots of the world."
He rested a hand on the tome, and its pages quivered faintly, glowing like breath beneath his fingers. "The disciples who survived tried to recreate it. They succeeded — partially. But many passages were beyond mortal comprehension. Some words refused to be written. Some formulas defied understanding, and even our greatest mathematicians remain baffled to this day. The symbols… the hieroglyphs… they twist and change when read."
He looked up at them, eyes calm but heavy with meaning. "So, this copy holds only fragments — the simplest teachings. What you performed tonight was one of those fragments. But the deeper truths of the Book of Orion…" His gaze fell to the tome again. "…those remain locked away, waiting for the next soul worthy enough to awaken them."
"To be honest," Devein said softly, exhaling a calm breath, "even I am uncertain about the true nature of this book. Its meanings shift each time I read it. But through years of meditation and trial, I discovered one truth — one hidden between its lines."
The faint light from the tome reflected in his eyes as he continued, voice low and deliberate. "Spirit energy can awaken another spirit energy. It's not something you can learn through words or symbols — it must be shared. When I transfuse my spirit energy into another, their inner light stirs, like a sleeping flame being touched by dawn. That… is the essence of what this book taught me."
Xerxez and Matheros exchanged awed glances.
"Wow… you're amazing, Teacher Devein!" Matheros said, his voice bursting with admiration. "You discovered that on your own?"
Devein smiled faintly, shaking his head. "No, not amazing — just persistent. But listen carefully… no one else in Wendlock knows about this. The elders believe the book is merely symbolic, a relic of the past." He looked at them with quiet seriousness. "Let's keep this between us — just the three of us."
Both boys straightened, nodding solemnly.
"Promise," Xerxez said.
"Yeah, we won't tell a soul," Matheros added, pressing a hand to his chest.
Devein closed the tome gently, and the glow of the pages dimmed until only the flicker of candlelight remained. "Good," he said softly. "Some knowledge isn't ready for the world. It must choose its time — and its bearers."
****
Meanwhile, beyond the Wendlock barrier…
Something slithered through the night air — a forked tongue, tasting the unseen. The air itself trembled with faint distortion as several dark shapes prowled along the invisible boundary, their scales glinting beneath the moonlight like shards of obsidian.
The lizardkin flock moved restlessly, their breaths hissing through the mist. They pressed their faces close to the air, tongues flicking, tasting for the faint pulse of spirit energy that marked the barrier's hidden edge.
"Master," one of the scouts rasped, its voice guttural and low, "we can taste something nearby… but we can't pinpoint the barrier's exact location. Still—my kin are prowling in every direction. We'll find it soon."