Rex sat in the chair like it might bite him.
Across from him sat Velkohr.
Very mad.
Very tired.
Very, very quiet.
Important clarification: Velkohr had not asked Rex to sit there.
He had dragged him out of the ritual room by the collar, deposited him in the chair, sat down opposite him, and then proceeded to do absolutely nothing.
No yelling.
No lectures.
No explosions.
Just staring.
Rex shifted slightly.
Velkohr's eye twitched.
Rex immediately stopped breathing.
The silence stretched.
Five seconds.
Ten.
Thirty.
Rex's brain started screaming.
Say something.
No, don't say anything.
He's going to kill you.
No, worse—he's disappointed.
Velkohr leaned back slowly, rubbed his face with both hands, and sighed the kind of sigh that came from a man who had survived wars, alchemy disasters, magical catastrophes, and now—a teenager with initiative.
"Alright," Velkohr said, voice tired instead of angry.
Rex flinched anyway.
"What did you learn?"
Rex blinked. "…Huh?"
Velkohr looked at him, really looked at him.
The anger was still there, but buried under stress, exhaustion, and something dangerously close to curiosity.
"I'm too tired to yell," Velkohr continued. "And if I start thinking about the hole in my wall again, I will yell. So—distraction. Talk."
Rex relaxed just a little.
"Oh. Uh… okay."
He thought for a second.
"I figured out the Mistica Arcanum isn't just a spellbook," Rex said. "It's more like… a guide. It shows you what you're ready to learn, not everything at once."
Velkohr's brow rose slightly.
"…Good."
Encouraged, Rex continued.
"So I reworked my redirect spell—fixed the output and stability—and then I made a new spell."
Velkohr leaned forward a bit. "What kind?"
"…Air."
Velkohr nodded slowly. "Alright. What does it do?"
Rex hesitated.
"Well," he said carefully, "it can gather air, store it, compress it, redirect it, release it, or explode it. Depending on how I use it."
Silence.
Then Velkohr smiled.
Not a warm smile.
Not a proud smile.
A dangerous smile.
"Really," Velkohr said. "So you made a spell that does almost everything."
Rex nodded. "…Yeah."
Velkohr stood up.
Rex immediately panicked. "I—I can explain—"
"No need," Velkohr interrupted, grabbing his coat. "I was planning to head to a nearby village anyway."
Rex paused. "Why?"
Velkohr glanced back at him.
"To see if it still exists," he said flatly. Then, after a beat, added, "And to test your spell."
Rex's eyes lit up.
"Wait—really?"
"Yes."
Rex shot out of the chair like he'd been launched.
"YES— I mean—yes. I'm ready."
He immediately began packing:
The Mistica Arcanum—carefully.
His focuses—triple-checked.
Sword—secured.
Gauntlet—left hand.
Light armor—tightened.
He looked up, bouncing slightly on his heels. "Ready!"
Velkohr watched him for a moment.
Too eager.
Too fast.
Too calm for someone who'd nearly died twice in recent memory.
"…Let's go," Velkohr said, grabbing a few items of his own—hammer, tools, travel cloak.
As they headed for the door, Velkohr thought:
I need a break.
Fresh air. A simple village. Nothing magical. Nothing strange.
He stepped outside.
The wind shifted.
Somewhere far away, something old stirred.
Velkohr didn't notice.
Rex did—and smiled without knowing why.
End of Chapter.